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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months

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Hi! Could I be ✨Anon? (Im not sure whats been taken already) I've been on a big Batfam kick these past few days and have a v indulgent request if it interests you.

Could I request something for a (gn) civilian reader who is friends w/ the Batfam, but recently got superpowers that are magical girl-esque? Neither of the parties knowing of the others Alter Egos. Here are some of my thought, but write the post however you'd like.

Reader was accidentally caught up in some commotion that involved stealing specialty cargo. One of them being an alien artifact, and reader uses it in desperation to save themselves. But now they have these sparkely, pretty, and showy powers that they never asked for. (And maybe a magical animal companion that insist they bring light and justice to Gotham)

Reader is reluctant to be a vigilante, but keeps finding themselves in situations to help people anyways.(Maybe its a side effect of being a magical girl) They end up fighting alongside the Batfam at some point, but they feel embarrassed to interact w/ them. Reader feels completely out of place with their colorful and over-the-top powers when next to the cool and brooding batfam.

Sorry if this idea is a bit out there, but ty for letting me be indulgent in your ask box 💕!!

NO CAUSE I FEEL THIS DYNAMIC SO MUCH.

I either have the friendliest vibe or the bitchiest vibe and no in between. Meaning that people either come to me for everything or think I’m a snob/will bite-

and sure non! i don’t really keep track of my anons nowadays so people can be whatever as long as it’s not listed in my pinned

BAT X MAGIC ✨

IN ANY CASE

I’m gonna mix Sailor Moon, Miraculous Ladybug and Onimai for my inspo with this ask if you don’t mind

Magical Girl/Boy/Person! Reader is really close friends with Tim and Damian. If there was one thing all three could agree on it’s that they loved superheroes in manga/comics.

And Reader? Boy did they adore the Batfam. There was just something about their dark, brooding aesthetic that they couldn’t get enough of.

So it was a tad bit ironic that they stumbled upon the most “girly”and “bright” power ever known to Gotham.

It didn’t help that your abilities had to be activated with cutely yelling things like “Sparkle Blast!” or “Smile Hurricane!”

I like to headcannon that you have a familiar or Kwami like creature that in exchange of keeping your identity magically hidden, absolutely bullies you by making the one above a requirement.

I headcannon that Damian has the PHATTEST crush on you. Like even moreso than the stalker, otaku Tim. Like he is just head over heels. You’re strong, you’re capable, you’re adorable?? But that mostly extends to just your magic persona rather than your real self. He’s super obvious about it to anyone but you too (similar to the og miraculous ladybug w/ felix instead of chat).

Tim is more interested on who tf you were. Like yes!!! Magical Person Hero!!! You were basically his childhood crushes incarnate!! But his inquisitive mind really needed to know who you were in order to calm himself down.

Jason is honestly a bit overwhelmed by your whole getup, but grows to love you the most in terms of how kind you are and how you help them even in the most dire of situations (not knowing that you were basically forced to)

He’s very much Tuxedo Mask type wherein he’d be very annoying to you when the disguises are off but an absolute Casanova with em on.

You and Dick are the most close when it comes to patrols and fighting. I feel like you, being the big fan you were, would make him look even more flashy and handsome during battle with sparkles and whatnot. I have a feeling he’d be the first to ask you out or fully romance you, as well as be the first to befriend you/contact you as a vigilante.

Bruce is definitely perplexed by how you always evade him in terms of your secret identity. It frustrates him to no end that whenever he gets close to finding out something either gets in his way or his mind just goes blank.

Once you explain how your magical persona works tho he’s pretty quick on the bandwagon, especially since he sees that his boys love you.

Also cause you look way too adorable to really be heinous.

…Right?

Once you break one of your familiar’s rules though, they do share your identity with the bats and well…

All hell breaks loose.

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leclerc-hs · 4 months

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Heyyy I saw you were looking for some Charles inspo and I’m just putting this out there: getting shitfaced with bestfriend Charles, doing something you totally should(n’t) and waking up in bed together the next morning

A/N: this has been sitting in my inbox for a while now and i felt the need to finally write it!!! this is my take on it (i didn’t include the morning sorry) and i hope y'all like it!!! let me know what you think!!! :) don’t be shy warnings: smut under the cut!!!! minors do not read. xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You’re not sure what exactly got you into this predicament but you didn’t care. You couldn’t find yourself to care or complain. Not with the little baby blue bullet vibrator pressed to your clit, and especially not with Charles fingers curled against the heat of your walls rubbing them with the exact speed and pressure you liked.

With an exasperated yet playful tone, you urge, “Oh, c’mon Charlie!” The living room of Charles apartment is alive with energy as you twirl in a circle around the furniture, the glint of excitement in your eyes. The neck of the tequila bottle is firmly held in your fist, “Dance with me!”

As your legs stumble slightly, Charles’s callused hands firmly grip the soft skin of your hips. The delicate flesh exposed from the tiny baby tee and sweatpants that hang almost too low on your hips, bringing a halt to your twirling spins. The contrasting sensations of the rough hands and the exposed skin create a moment of electrifying tension. Your eyes twinkle when meeting his green ones, both swaying gently to the music as you tossed your arms over his shoulders and behind his head languidly. The tequila bottle swayed behind Charles back, hitting him a few times in the shoulder blades, but he didn’t mind. He was too enraptured in the joy on your face.

You bring the bottle to your lips with one arm, taking a sip from it, the burn barely even noticeable with how shit-faced you almost were. Charles took the bottle from your hand, phrases like ‘relax, cherie’ and ‘slow down, baby’ spewing off his lips in a comforting cadence. Although he was very biased, taking a swig from the bottle almost immediately after, sparking laughter between the both of you.

You’re not sure what changed but the next time your eyes met, you felt the heat build in your tummy, and the need to press your thighs together is hot on your mind. You always were a horny drunk, but never like this. Not with your best friend.

Charles seemed to have noticed the inner turmoil you were facing. Maybe it was the fact he saw your thighs press slightly together, or the change in your dilated pupils. Whichever reason it was, he was all hands-on deck. Or maybe it was the fact that he has never been more turned on by someone in his life. He wasn’t sure if his mind was playing tricks on him, but he was going to take his shot regardless.

“Open your mouth for me, cherie.” Charles takes a sip of the tequila, his eyes locked on yours as he towers over your small frame.

In that fleeting moment, your head tilts ever so slightly, a delicate dance of confusion and curiosity etched across your features. The slight glimmer in your eyes reveals a layer of excitement beneath the surface.

You oblige happily, jaw widening and mouth hanging slack. Almost instantly Charles’s hands are gripping your face in a tight grip, locking you in place as he dribbles the tequila from his mouth into yours. He brings one hand to the bottom of your chin, his thumb swiping any liquid that missed, before commanding your jaw shut.

“Swallow.” You don’t hesitate. The searing hot ache between your legs only growing more at his commands.

You notice the change of his pupils as he watches your swallow, his eyes focusing on the center of your neck like lasers. His eyes are half shut, and the loopy grin on his lips has your stomach doing somersaults.

Is this really about to happen?

You both knew you shouldn't cross that line. But, neither of you cared in this given moment. In this given moment, all you could think about is the intensity of his eyes on you and how you never wanted him to look away. In this given moment, all he could think about is what it would feel like to have you. Finally have you. He wanted to be consumed by you.

In an instant his mouth is hot on yours, tongue swirling around your own as you both moaned into each other's mouths. Your tongues pressed against each other in a heated dance, as if you couldn't get enough of each other. You both taste the hints of tequila on your tongues as they slip against each other.

The answer is yes. Which is how you find yourself in said predicament.

“Mm, ça a un putain de gout délicieux, chérie,” Tastes so fucking good. He’s moaning loudly into your pussy, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Because he couldn’t. One hand pushes the tiny vibrator harder onto your puffy clit, your arousal seeping out of you, while the other grips your thigh tightly, his arm wrapped around it as he pushes that leg over his shoulder, spreading you wider for him.

His tongue is hot on you as he traces his tongue around your dripping hole, sucking up anything you’ll give him. He pushes his tongue into you, flicking it in and out of you with such speed, that it has you careening forward with a sharp cry.

His pulls his face up for some air, not that he wanted it, shoving two fingers into you while he rambles on almost incoherently.

“Tu vas être une bonne fille pour moi?” Gonna be a good girl for me? He shoves his thumb into you, staring at the way it slips into you and your pussy flutters around it.

“Oui!” Yes! You were shouting, the bullet vibrator now rubbing in slow, languid circles, but the vibration on the highest setting, his fingers pummeling into you with such dexterity.

Charles finds himself involuntary flexing his hips into the mattress of the bed, trying to receive some relief from how turned on he was. He swears his cock was about to explode.

There was nothing slow about this, Charles was eating you out much like he drives. 200 mph, with limited "braking", and pure skill. He didn’t bother to tease you; he was full on feasting like your pussy was the last meal on earth for him.

“Une si bonne fille.” Such a good girl. He groans deeply in his chest at the sight of you bucking your hips, small gasps leaving your glossy lips as you shut your eyes with such force.

“I’m gon-“ You began to warn, but Charles didn’t need the warning. He could tell by the squeeze of your pussy on his fingers that you were about to cum, and it only encouraged him to speed up his fingers, sending you quickly over the edge. "Oh fuck- oh my, mmm,"

Your orgasm was earth-shattering, tears sprang from your eyes as you squeezed them shut tightly. Charles chucked the vibrator aside and pressed his face into you while you bucked your hips against his face, completely riding his face now. He held you in place, your thighs nearly suffocating him as they clamped shut tightly around his head.

He curses into your pussy repeatedly, loving every single drop you gave him. So sweet, so fucking good. You were completely fucked out, your body falling limp to the mattress as Charles pulled up from between your thighs, his lips completely coated with you. A cocky grin on his face as he looks at you half passed out on his bed.

Je n’arrive pas à croire que nous ne l’ayons pas fait plus tôt.” Can’t believe we never did that sooner.

“Pouvons-nous le refaire?” Can we do it again? Your words were jumbled and hushed but Charles must have understood you loud and clear. The shit-eating grin on his face told you more than enough. And the grasp of his hands onto your hips, rolling you over to your stomach, and the slip of his cock into your hot, wet folds was far better than a simple ‘yes’.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fic #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x you

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infernalodie · 1 year

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hii, can you make a sam carpenter x fem!reader, where after they all go to college (the group; tara, chad, mindy and reader) sam starts to notice her feelings for tara’s best friend (reader, obviously) maybe with smut and bottom!reader pls? i love your writing btw

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 (𝐏𝐭.𝟏) || 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

"𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘎𝘰𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺"

Inspo: DaniLeigh - Easy

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Black!Fem!reader

Summary: Her desire for you was primal and naked...

Warning: Fluff, possessive Sam, smut, praise kink, oral (R receiving), fingering, squirting, corruption kink, sub!reader, dom!Sam Carpenter, and a splash of more fluff.

Part Two

Words: 2881

DNI IF YOU'RE YOUNGER THAN 18!

Samantha didn’t know what to think when she first realize the feelings she had for you. Truthfully, it wasn’t something big as it may be shown in movies or TV. It was subtle. Slipping into her bloodstream and quickening her heart rate whenever your presence was in her vicinity. As if her body knew exactly what she wanted.

It was something small that sparked it.

She only met you after the whole incident with Amber and Richie. When the news came out about Tara being harmed in the spree, you showed up at the hospital unannounced. Pouncing onto the injured girl and promising her that you would protect her at all costs. But that had been the first time Samantha met you.

The first time she talked to you officially besides 4 word sentences was at the airport when you decided to drop everything and join the group in moving to New York. Everyone was passed out waiting for time to pass that would be the announcement for everyone to board the flight. You were seated next to her, listening to music with a gentle hum surfacing from your throat.

And the melody was recognizable to Sam, so she gently nudged you. Making you pull your headset off with a quiet hum, big eyes looking up at her curiously. And her guess on the song was correct; internet crush by Jeremy Zucker. That devolved from music to the purpose it held for the two of you to then personal life. How you left your mother behind who did nothing but drank herself to sleep every night. Hoping a bottle would fill the hole that had been left since your sister died. You both resonated with the shared issues revolving around your guys’ parents. Missing fathers and alcoholic mothers.

From that point on, the remote reaction when you appeared before Sam came from a bubbling euphoric aroma that clouded her thoughts. Abiding by every request and treating you like a queen. Thoughts around you become obscured by her admiration for you. Able to pinpoint the specific things about you that she adored and tell anyone why she loved them so much. Your hands. They were so small and delicate in hers. How you held her hand when you wanted to show her something interesting. Or there were your eyes. Full of innocence compared to Sam’s or Tara’s. How they would twinkle (or it might be Sam’s imagination) whenever you asked a question or looked up at her. Then there was your height which was significantly shorter compared to hers. Coming about 2 inches shorter or so than Tara. But Sam loved the idea of towering over you or even being able to hoist you onto the surface. Feel your small hands hold her face as you made some childish joke.

If she could, she would write an essay about all the things she loved about you and why. But she wasn’t sure there was enough paper in the world for that. So, she would rely on her inner monologue to keep track of all the beautiful qualities surrounding you.

And tonight was no exception. You looked as beautiful as always; skinny jeans with one of her shirts that were baggy on you. Swallowing your frame to a certain extent, but allowing her to make out the curve of your hips. It looked cute. Sam wasn’t afraid to make it known that she was staring either. After all, she’d asked you to stay close since this was a party and there weren’t many people either of you knew in New York.

So, to please her, you did as she asked. Staying within arm’s length and one of her fingers secretly hooked in one of your belt loops. Unbothered by the faint tug once and a while. But you continued chatting with some people and getting to know a bit about the city and some parties that were being planned. But you hadn’t noticed a guy awkwardly make his way over from Chad and a group of guys from his classes. Sam had seen it though and judging by Chad’s teasing smirk, he was tempting her to do something about it.

To show her protectiveness over you.

Everyone in the group knew that Sam had feelings for you, except you. Tara didn’t like the idea simply because she found it gross. Often warning Sam that she would kill her if you two ever hooked up or dated. But Sam wasn’t good with listening to orders. Especially if it revolved around you.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you from around here?” A random boy asked, dragging your attention from a girl you’d been talking to. He was a good foot taller than you. Curly strands and a romanticizing aura about him. He looked like the type that tried to fit in with the cool kids and get laid, but he was too good for that. A classic cliche.

Seeing your confused expression, he placed a hand on his chest with a chuckle. “Sorry, my bad. I’m Ethan. A pleasure to meet you.”

You’d had your run in’s with guys trying to flirt. Yet, you still had the same question pop up in your head; how do I let them down easy? It would take a simple, “Sorry, I’m not really interested,” or an, “I’m already taken. Sorry,” but you felt like it was too harsh. And to be honest, the guy had a creepy look in his eyes. Most times you humoured people and gave them a chance to catch your attention. Try and hold a strong conversation, but when you start to try up talking points that seemed too complex for them, they fell face flat. With this “Ethan”, you weren’t really at the spot to humour whatever he had to say.

“Uh, I’m good, thanks,” you said as politely as possible. Forcing a smile before turning your gaze back to the girl you were talking to before.

Ethan laughed, glancing back at Chad who waved at him encouragingly. Hesitantly reaching toward you and places his hand on your shoulder. “I never caught your name-”

“Is there a problem?” Sam’s arms curled around your waist, gently pulling you to sit in her lap with your arm instinctively wrapping around her shoulders. Managing to save face with a gentle smile playing across your lips, looking up at the boy.

But it felt like years before Ethan responded and you were able to feel Sam’s hands move at a tantalizingly slow pace. Almost teasing you. Once resting on your hips and holding you right on her crotch, they now ran up and down your thighs. Her nails dug into the denim pants and lips kissing the exposed parts of your skin. Shoulders, neck, and ear which she promptly nibbled on.

You weren’t sure if she was just trying to push the motive of you two being an “item”. But it felt amazing.

“She’s your girlfriend?” Ethan asked, pointing at you. At the sight of Sam’s older and predatory demeanour, he couldn’t help but shift uneasily. That and the fact that Sam looked about ready to tear your clothes off at the drop of a hat. Primarily at your simple request, which she hoped would be the case.

Sam paused her kisses along your shoulder and looked up at Ethan through hooded eyes. “What of it? You wanna fuck her?” She asked, catching the boy off guard. Her lips brushed against the shell of your ear, making you exhale shakily as she whispered, “Would you like that, Y/n? Would you want him to fuck you?”

It had to be alcohol. It had to be the catalyst for her saying or acting in such a way. This wasn’t like her ambushing you in the hallway of her apartment. Or her whispered praises in your ear.

“Only you can.”

Hearing that drew a deep hum from Sam’s chest. Her hands rested on the inside of your thighs squeezing gently and causing you to bite your bottom lip. And that seemed like enough for Ethan to get the memo and walk away, trying to hide the faint tent in his pants.

You let out a sigh, smiling faintly. “Thank you so much, Sam.” You began to sit up. “I thought he wouldn’t ever leave me alone-”

Before you could get too far, Sam caught your hand and pulled you gently. Hoping to not crash down into her, you placed your hands along the back of the couch and straddled her. Not intentional, but the look on Sam’s face this close was too good to back away.

Hooded eyes by the copious amounts of alcohol you saw her drink and wet palms from the effect of weed Chad had shared with her. Her hands softly glide to trace the curves of your figure. Intently watching how her hands caught slightly caught the sides of your shirt to reveal your stomach. She tucked her bottom beneath her teeth, finding balance on your hips and gently beginning to rock you.

This was all new to you. You had your first kiss, first make-out session, and first girlfriend. But sex was completely foreign. For someone who got a lot of attention from guys and girls in high school, you never dared indulge yourself in that type of thing. You liked to make up the excuse that you weren’t ready for it whenever Tara questioned you on it. But you were just waiting for the right person. Someone that was going to sweep you off your feet and take your breath away

But since Sam came into your life, you wanted to feel something. The forbidden 4 letter word was always on the tip of your tongue whenever she was around. Whenever her large hands rested on your hips when you reached for something in the cupboard. Or when you were bent over, you caught her staring a little too long at your ass. Because if love wasn’t you staring at the girl from across the room, taken aback by her beautiful features, then you weren’t sure what love was. Being in her presence was like weights being alleviated from your shoulders. Always able to match her energy under the right circumstances. And if felt like tonight, you wanted to set the tone.

Your hands slid from the back of the couch with one hand finding solace on the side of her neck and the other resting on her side, thumb just barely touching her breasts. “What’re you thinking about?” You whispered, voice drowning in the loud music and conversations happening throughout the house. Yet, she seemed to hear you loud and clear. Everything else falls into the background and is forgotten. Only you becoming her thoughts and source of attention.

“Did you mean it?” She whispered, head rolling back to look at your elevated position. “Are you only mine to enjoy?” Her hands slid further down, kneading at your round ass. Your hips followed the movement she had set moments prior.

There was a hazy shroud that fell over the two of you that pushed the extra confidence in you. It could be the own toxic substances clinging to your thoughts, persuading you. But you grounded your hips roughly against the crotch of her jeans. Clamping your lips shut when the friction to your clit sent a lovely shot of bliss through your system.

Leaning your lips down enough for your hot breath to fan her neck. “Match me and maybe that becomes reality.”

Lust clouded Sam’s senses as she pulls away just enough to make out features. Finding no ounce of hesitance or force. Only desire. A senseless and primal feeling that she’d managed to submit for the past few months. And now, it felt like the chains had been unbound allowing her to be free.

Her hands cupped your face, kissing you feverishly. Her hands threading through your hair and pulling you incredibly closer. The two of you pushed against one another, seeking to feel each other's body more extensively than ever before.

You wanted everything that came with Sam.

By the time you, Sam, and the others got back to the apartment, Sam was already pulling you in the direction of her room.

From the moment she had you sprawled out on her bed, practically shivering from the lack of warmth her touch provided you, she wanted all of you. She wanted you to beg. She wanted to absorb every piece of you and have you coming back for more. What she wanted was to claim you for herself. Take the innocence from you and make you into a doll that craved nothing else but her touch.

Maybe she was just drunk off your taste, but it’d been on her mind for quite some time.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” Sam whispered against the inside of her thighs. Her soaked lips softly grazed your sensitive sable skin that was marked by her teeth and lips. Forcing a whimper from your lips. “You don’t know how soaked I am just from hearing those cute little noises. Fuck, I’ve wanted to hear them for so long.”

Her voice was muddied beneath the past four orgasms she ripped selfishly from you. And now, she was dragging out the fourth. Enjoying herself and tasting every piece of you she could. Safe to say that this being your first time, it was the best anyone could ever ask for.

She didn’t let you do anything either. All she told you was to lie down and enjoy it. Soak up the feeling of her tongue abusing your clit and her tongue pressing past your fluttering entrance that squeezed around nothing. And that’s what you did. You let your legs rest over her shoulders and grip the sheets as you moaned and cried out her name. Thighs occasionally twitching and squeezing Sam’s head. But she never relented. Not when she’s thought about being in this position for months. And being crushed by your thighs was just too pleasing to complain about.

“S-Sam, you f-feel amazing.” You could barely get the incoherent sentence out, but it fueled the fire in the older girl’s stomach. A new reinvigoration struck her heart as she delved deeper. Everything beneath her eyes became smothered in your juices that she drank from like they were a divine potion from the Holy Grail. She wanted every last drop if it made you feel good.

But this action, the faint shake of her head and moan caused the coil in your stomach to tighten. With her tongue slowly exiting you, the emptiness was soon replaced by two fingers. Your eyes rolled back, toes curling as her digits did the same.

There was a sensation. Something familiar, but foreign in how it felt. A build-up. It almost felt like you were peeing? You couldn’t think much about it before the pleasure began to take it course with the build-up quickly releasing. Your legs convulsed as you placed your hands against Sam’s forehead, attempting to push her away as your head snapped back with a cry. “W-Wait- Sam-!” But her hands wrapped around your thighs kept her in place, causing the overstimulation to finally take’s it hold. “Fuck! Holy fuck, Sam!”

Your hips lifted off the bed, a cry following after as Sam pulled away, grinning widely at the sight of you coming undone. And her fingers worked slower than before. Helping you down from the high as your body lay in her with a wet patch surrounding your apex. Through half-lidded eyes, you saw Sam nibbling on her bottom lip, her face drenched and strands of her hair sticking to her forehead. But that was the least of her concerns as she simply stared at your puffy red cunt.

“Sam…” you panted as her fingers slowly stroked the inside crease of your thighs. Dangerously close to where she’d been occupied for the past hour. And when her thumb lightly flicked over your clit, you whined, which she promptly quietened with a soft kiss on your leg.

“It’s ok, baby. We’re done with you for the night.” The open-ended sentence left you dreadful for what she had planned. But when she stripped herself bare, allowing you to see her in her full glory, heat found itself between your legs. She crawled toward you, lips still pulled into a grin as she said. “I’ve always wondered and dreamed of what your fingers would feel like inside of me.”

Taking your hand, she gently pulled it toward her soaked lips, groaning as you stared in shock. “You gonna give me what I want, sweetheart?”

Unfortunately, the two of you had forgotten about the trio left in the apartment when you two disappeared. Leaving them to sit on the couch in awkward silence watching a random movie turned up to full volume to block out the extra noise. But it didn’t help.

Chad, who hugged a pillow to his chest, blew out a breath. “I really did not think that sending Ethan over there would’ve resulted like this.”

And when both Chad and Mindy looked at Tara they found the girl repeatedly tapping her head off the table, muttering, “I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.”

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

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I am way, way early for sleepover day butttt this popped into my head and I’m curious to see what you can do with “This is my wife, Dr. Bradshaw. She’s been accused of stirring the pot before.”

(I, an aspiring PhD, am FERAL for being called doctor. I’m also curious what Dr. Bradshaw did. If it doesn’t spark inspo, are you studying anything? What was your favorite subject in school?)

standing at the bar, a smile tugging on your lips as the suns sinks into the ocean just outside, you sigh a happy sigh. you're off work for the next several days--which rarely happens--and that means you can spend every waking moment with your hunk of a husband.

he's currently losing a game of pool to Phoenix, who's tickled pink that you're here so Bradley won't pout all night, and stealing glances at you whenever he can chance it.

God, does he look good, too--that dumb Hawaiian shirt that really must have some sort of magic in it, a tight white t-shirt, blue jeans. he's tan and happy and warm and everything in the world that you love. and you're fairly certain that isn't just the Long Island iced teas talking. being married for the past three years hasn't really changed much at all for the two of you--you still daydream about him like a ditzy teenager. and he still gets flustered when you catch his gaze and wink--it's one of the things you love most about him; how easy you can make him blush.

"isn't he handsome?" you ask out loud to no one in particular--and you're fairly certain that it is because of the Long Island iced teas.

Jake Seresin happens to be standing beside you, waiting for Penny to finish up with another customer so he can get his first whiskey sour of the night, and he glances at you when he hears the dreamy lilt in your tone.

shit--you're hot. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you here before. for a quick minute, he racks his brain, trying to place you. he knows you're familiar--maybe a past fling or a match on tinder--but nothing's calling out to him.

he gives you a once-over, a sly one, and notices a few things: the way your breasts strain against the fabric of your tee shirt, the gloss over your eyes, the way those jeans hug your hips, and a wedding ring.

he follows your gaze to Bradley, who's gaping as Phoenix absolutely demolishes him in pool without so much as breaking a sweat, and frowns.

"eh," Jake answers, shrugging. he turns and catches your gaze, his brows slightly knit. "he's married, anyway."

oh. you recognize this guy from all of Bradley's stories--this is Jake. Hangman. you two seem to always just miss each other: you're out of town when he comes over for a football game, you're working at the hospital when he's on base, you're at the grocery store when he FaceTimes Bradley.

for a moment, you maintain his gaze, waiting for him to place you. but he's just staring at you blankly.

"married, huh?" you ask softly, leaning in closer to Jake. you make a show of looking all around Bradley and Jake's brows knit even further--you're brash for a married woman looking at a married man. "I don't see a wife?"

Jake scoffs softly, an incredulous smile tugging on his lips. surely you're joking. but then he keeps watching you eye fuck Bradley, teeth sunken into your lower lip, and he automatically straightens his spine.

"you're married too," Jake points out, nodding to your ring finger. he crosses his arms over his chest. "how'd your husband feel knowing you're eyeing a Navyman?"

"ooh," you sing-song, batting your lashes. "he's a man in uniform, too, huh?"

Christ. you're less shameless than him.

"and married," Jake repeats, frowning a bit now. "you know, like you. married. holy matrimony and all that. union. like, legally bound."

stifling a laugh, you give a very blasé shrug of your shoulders and bite your lip.

"all the good ones are taken," you say, wrinkling your nose. "don't you think I deserve a little fun?"

Jake fully scoffs now, aghast at your behavior. it takes everything in your body not to break character and introduce yourself. but you wanna see how far you can take this: you've heard stories about Jake. a shameless, over-confident creature who'll turn taken women into single women with a bat of his long lashes. and you've got him gaping at you like you're some sort of wild animal.

but before he can say anything else, Bradley finally wanders up behind you, pressing a few kisses to your cheek as he wraps his arms around your waist.

and that is about all Jake can take.

"listen, man, I don't know your wife but I'm sure she wouldn't be too happy about you kissing up on another married woman!" Jake says, hands on his hips. he's never been more disappointed in Bradley before. he feels like he's in the fucking Twilight Zone. Bradley "I Never Shut Up About My Hot Wife" Bradshaw shacking up with some stranger at the bar while his wife probably busts her ass at the hospital? no fucking way. "and I ain't gonna hold my tongue about it--I'll tell you that now."

when Bradley laughs, Jake just blinks at him. but then you're laughing, too, patting Bradley's chest.

"we almost had him!" you tell Bradley, shoving him playfully. "that vein in his forehead was starting to throb!"

instinctively, Jake slides a finger across his forehead. huh. maybe it was. how the fuck would you know about that vein, though?

"Jake," Bradley says with a grin. "this is my wife--Dr. Bradshaw. she's known to occasionally stir the pot."

beaming at a still-flustered Jake, you extend your left hand.

"pleasure's all mine."

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moonlight-prose · 5 months

Note

Hello what about "my job is to watch your back" sentence with Joel

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄

a/n: i am a sucker for a man being protective of the one they love, but make that man joel and i am GONE. he's so perfect for this line. so i did my best to make it short and sweet. thanks for dropping this line in my inbox, because it sparked so much inspo. also apologies for taking forever on this. it wound up getting lost into the void of my drafts. the divider is by the incredible @saradika.

summary: you needed to protect him as much as he needed to protect you. the only problem was...joel believed he didn't need caring for. he didn't need protecting.

word count: 0.9k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, a tad bit of arguing, joel being stubborn, reader giving him a taste of his own medicine, passion, tension, feelings.

You heard him outside of the room before he even entered. The familiar thud of his boots on the hardwood floors, echoing through the hallway as he finally returned home for the night. Although you couldn’t classify this shitty apartment as a home, you knew that he did. If the small butterfly he taped to the window was anything to go by.

Shutting your eyes, you tried to give off the idea that you were asleep, letting him know to be quiet when he finally walked through the door. But you knew he had other things in mind. After weeks of fighting him on your ideas about leaving the QZ on a small run, you finally decided to go it alone. Meeting with smugglers, whose names you didn’t bother to learn and trading things you couldn’t remember. All you cared about was that they could get you what Joel needed the most; a small car part that would finally let the truck run smoothly without issues.

In all fairness, you did try to get back before he noticed, but it took a day longer than you anticipated. Only seven hours ago you found yourself trapped in a room, hiding from three infected, silently wishing that you had said goodbye to Joel. Maybe if you stayed a bit longer in bed, partook in one more languid kiss that would have resulted in him pressing you into the mattress, you wouldn’t have found yourself in this situation.

But that’s not how life worked.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” His words were a low guttural growl—the anger practically bleeding into the air around you.

“Joel—”

“You went out alone?” he spit, standing over you as you tried not to disappear into the couch.

Averting your gaze, you felt your body fill with guilt. “I made it back alive okay?”

He let out a breath, eyes blazing with a rage you’d only seen directed at other people. “Bullshit.”

“It’s not bull—”

“And the infected that found you?” he snapped.

You didn’t want to relinquish yourself to an argument that would lead nowhere. You’d already had it out with him enough to know how this would play out. He’d stay pissed for a few days. The anger of almost losing you overtaking his anger that you left, and then things would settle back into their usual routine. Both of you avoiding the tension in the room, both of you terrified to say what this actually was.

Standing, you tried to side step him, but the tight grip he clasped around your arm kept you near him. Unable to run from this. He was tired of watching you flee, tired of ignoring the blatantly obvious truth.

Your eyes met his sorrow prominent in the brown you found you couldn’t live without. “It wasn’t a problem,” you said, hoping that the nonchalance seeped through your words—hiding your fear.

It didn’t.

“Don’t do that.”

You looked away. “Do what?”

“Act like your life isn’t important.”

His words struck you in the chest, and for a brief second you wondered if perhaps you pushed him too far. This life was dangerous. You knew that going in that you would give more than you got. When all is said and done, nothing but an unmarked spot in the ground would be your end. But you understood that. Yet shouldering what you had to do without question felt like you had a rock in your stomach at all times.

You might have been able to accept your unimportant ending.

Joel wouldn’t.

“It’s true.”

He stiffened, eyes narrowed at the blank expression you painted across your face. “Darlin’—”

Releasing a breath, you faced him head on, the fear ebbing away slowly. “I’m not here to be important Joel. I’m here to survive until I can’t anymore. Isn’t that the whole fucking point of this life?” You tried to stop the hot tears that stung your eyes, but they fell anyway. A piece of the vulnerability you refused to show him. “Importance flew right out the window the second that first bite happened.”

“Look at me.” His words were gentle, touch soft against your face as he turned you towards him. “You’re a whole lot more important than you know.”

You scoffed. “No need to lie.”

“I ain’t lyin’.” He stepped closer, caging you against his body—his hands cupping your head. “You left and I lost my mind.” “Joel—”

“My job is to watch your back.” He let out a shaky breath, emotions he struggled to keep back now shoving their way forward. Until he had no choice but to show you the broken bits you managed to string together delicately since he met you. “If I can’t protect you…” His lips brushed across yours, forehead a soft press against yours. “I’ve got nothin’.”

Clutching onto his jacket you felt your heart twist violently, threatening to take you under the dangerous waves of pain. “That’s my job too Joel. Who’s gonna protect you?”

“I don’t need…” He inhaled sharply when your lips pressed to his, fingers digging into the top of his chest, until he swore he felt your fingerprints branded into his fucking heart.

“Don’t bullshit me Miller. Everyone needs protecting.”

Joel didn’t know when he started to grin, when you brought back his lost smile, but it happened. Maybe the day he met you or even a month ago, but there he was…smiling like a hopeless fool. Life had gone to shit, the world wasn’t livable anymore, but he had you. To him…that was enough to live for, on days when he felt the weight of the world begin to suffocate the last bits of breath out of him.

“Alright,” he murmured, thumb running along your jaw. “You protect me darlin’ and I’ll protect you.”

“Deal.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller fic #pedrostories #my writing #the last of us fic

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junkissed · 1 year

Text

packages, boxes and bags

day eight of junkissed's svt season's greetings event

member — boyfriend!seokmin x reader genre — the sweetest and purest fluff word count — 3.1k synopsis — you’re having trouble finding the perfect gift for your boyfriend on your first christmas together. maybe his friends can help. warnings — a little cursing, reader is called seokmin's girlfriend, pet names (baby, honey), they are so damn cute it hurts, when can i have my own seokmin god please i'm begging notes — lowercase intended. i apologize this is late but i was busy the past couple days and i also didn't have much inspo for this. so imagine my surprise when today i sit down at my laptop and boom three thousand words just. appear. but i am so happy with how this turned out and i hope you will be too. i must warn you all this is disgustingly sweet and precious and i definitely screamed into my pillow more than once while writing this. i hope you enjoy :) p.s. i promise this isn't an ad for kay jewelers— blame @duhnova for that

one reblog = one (almost) engagement ring

you shut your laptop closed and groan, putting your head in your hands. this was never going to work.

you’ve spent the better part of your day off on websites like amazon, macy’s, even walmart, trying to find the perfect gift for seokmin.

despite being together almost seven months now, it’s the first time you’ll be spending christmas together. and… you have absolutely no idea what to get him.

first you thought about getting him some little gadget for his computer at work, maybe a new keyboard or a cute new mouse pad. but then you remembered how he told you in passing the other day how he couldn’t stand how his job had him hunched over his computer all day, and he was thinking about looking for a new one where he wouldn’t have to be on it so much.

then you thought you might get him a nice framed picture of the two of you, something small to keep in his apartment for when you’re not there. but when you came over last weekend, the first thing he did was show you the digital photo frame he found in his closet that his mom got him for his birthday that he’d forgotten about. he was stoked to “finally be able to put it to good use” and had programmed it with dozens of pictures of the two of you.

you’d tried google. you’d looked at every gift-giving website under the sun. you’d even asked your best friend what she was getting for her boyfriend for christmas to see if it might spark an idea.��

but everything you come across is either something he already has, something he doesn’t need, or something he could easily get on his own.

so… you were stuck. thoroughly and completely stuck.

meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, seokmin is currently on the other side of town, running through the mall in a panic, trying to figure out what to get you.

he knows he shouldn’t have waited until three days before christmas to get his holiday shopping done, but he’s been busy– there’s a huge promotion up at his job, and he’s doing everything he can to get it. not only would it mean less sitting at his desk all day and more moving around, it would also mean a big raise, so you can finally move in together like you both have been wanting to. now that would be a perfect christmas present if he gets the position, but he won’t find out if he has or not until the new year, so that rules that out.

it’s your first christmas together, so he really wants to go all out. winter is his favorite season, and now he gets to spend it with his favorite person, so why wouldn’t he make it something extravagant? except… he can’t find anything to get you.

so here he is at the mall downtown, ducking into every store and searching for something, anything that might give him an idea of a gift you might like.

he doesn’t wanna buy you clothes, because that’s lame, and also because he doesn’t wanna get something that’s not guaranteed you’ll like. what if you think the fabric is too itchy, or you don’t like the pattern? returning or even exchanging his gift would mean a big failure.

he doesn’t wanna buy you the trinkets he found at that one gift shop, because even though they are cute, they’re not special enough to get for you. these are the type of things he’d pick up for you on his way home from work as an everyday treat, or at the very most, a stocking stuffer; you deserve more than some cheap little thing he found on a whim.

he thought about getting you a new purse, because you said you’ve been needing one since the strap on your current one broke, but he’s pretty sure you already bought yourself one when your boss gave you an amazon gift card as a thank-you for all the overtime you’ve been doing lately.

it seems like everything he thinks of to get you is a dumb idea. so now he’s stuck. thoroughly and completely stuck.

you sigh, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your gallery, praying that one of the photos is hiding some kind of sign that’ll tell you exactly what to buy him. but as expected, there’s no magic word or wish list or qr code that leads to the perfect gift.

you’re just about to give up and call him and just ask him what he wants, when an idea hits you. calling him would be admitting to him you can’t think of something special to give him, but calling his friends… now that, that might get you somewhere. they’ve known him for way longer than you have, they must have some idea of things he likes or might want.

you quickly dial the number of his friend minghao. you’ve only met him a few times at some get-togethers, but he seems like the most responsible out of his group, and the most likely to give you a helpful answer.

he picks up on the first ring, but the voice that answers… isn’t minghao?

“hello seokmin’s girlfriend! this is minghao’s phone, how can i help you!”

“junhui, i told you to stop touching my phone!” you hear a voice in the background that you guess is minghao.

“fi-ine,” the first voice—junhui?—grumbles, and you hear a shuffling noise as you assume the phone is being passed back to its owner.

minghao sighs. “hi. sorry about him. what’s up?”

you try not to laugh at the phone mix-up. “just, uh, have a question for you.”

“mhm?” he prods.

“has… seok mentioned anything he wants for christmas? or, like, is there anything you know he needs?” you ask, hoping it sounds nonchalant.

he hums. “mm, not really. are you trying to come up with a christmas gift for him?”

you whine. “yeah. but i’ve tried everything, i can’t think of a single good thing to give him.”

minghao pauses. “he’s really sentimental, but you probably already figured that out by now. the best i can suggest is something homemade, or something related to some kind of memory you have together. he’d like that.”

you freeze. “i… i think i’ve got an idea,” you say jumping up from your chair. “you’re the best, minghao, i owe you big time for this.”

“don’t worry about it. merry christmas.”

you hang up the phone and open your laptop again. this just might work.

you hadn’t planned on spending this much on seokmin’s present, but why not go all out? sure, you’ll have to cut back on your morning coffee for a couple weeks, but it’ll be worth it to see the look on his face on christmas morning.

at the same time, across town seokmin’s just walking out of the jewelry store, a shiny velvet box tucked into his jacket pocket. it’s a lot more than he wanted to pay for it, but it’s better than showing up empty-handed. besides, if that promotion comes through like he hopes, he’ll pay it off in no time. it might have cost a small fortune, but he just knows it’ll look so pretty on you. he can’t wait to see you wear it.

christmas eve finally rolls around and you’re standing outside the door to seokmin’s apartment, your arms full of bags for the weekend you’re spending with him.

his entire face lights up the second he opens the door, and he squeezes you in a tight hug before giving you a soft kiss. “hi baby,” he says, almost shyly. “merry christmas.”

he grabs the bags from you to carry them inside, and you give him another kiss. “merry christmas.”

he takes your things back to his room to set them down, then comes back out into the living room, wrapping his arms around you again. “i’m so glad you get to be here,” he says quietly.

“mm. me too.”

the room is quiet, besides the faint honking of cars outside. you snuggle up on the couch together, picking out a movie to watch, the dim lights casting a soft glow around the apartment.

“do you wanna open your present now?” he asks when the screen turns black and the credits slowly roll past.

“seok, you have to wait until christmas! we can’t open all our presents tonight!” you giggle, and he pouts.

“please?” he says, looking up at you with those big, pleading eyes you adore so much.

“fine,” you concede. “but only one! or else we won’t have anything to open in the morning.”

he grins and gets down on the floor beside the couch, crawling over to the tree to grab a small wrapped box nestled into the bottom branches. he comes back over and sits at the base of the couch, putting one knee up as he hands you the box.

he grins up at you as you tear open the wrapping paper, revealing the soft velvet jewelry box.

you look down at him, and he nods eagerly, motioning for you to open it. you hesitate. it definitely looks expensive, way more than you would’ve wanted him to spend on you. but you did pay almost $300 renting the place for his gift, so you write it off as being even.

you delicately pry the box open with your fingernail, revealing a breathtaking ring absolutely covered in diamonds and intricate silver gilding. it gleams even in the low light, sitting in its little velvet box, staring up at you.

you gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth. “seokmin, what the fuck is this!?”

his smile instantly drops, the color draining from his cheeks. “do you not like it? i can probably still return it, i have the receipt–”

“no!” you shout, and he jumps, eyes wide. “no,” you repeat, calmer this time. “no, i love it. it’s gorgeous. i just– i thought we were doing… small presents first?” you stutter, still in shock at the beautiful piece of jewelry in your shaking hands.

he blushes. “i… wanted you to wear it now,” he murmurs.

you study him, and suddenly you realize he’s still down on the carpet on one knee. and everything finally clicks.

you scream as you jump up from the couch. “seokmin, you’re not proposing, are you?” you gasp.

“no?” he stammers, confused why you’d think he is, before realizing himself that he looks… well, he definitely looks like he’s proposing.

he hurriedly puts his knee down, sitting flat on the carpet. “i’m not! i’m not. this is just a really nice ring, i swear,” he rushes to explain. “at least, not yet,” he mumbles under his breath, but you don’t hear him. you’re still focused on the fact that there’s more diamonds in this ring than you can count on one hand.

you’re still standing in front of him, mouth hanging open, and he’s starting to get worried because you haven’t said a word in a few minutes. “do you want me to propose?” he asks hesitantly. because, screw it, he’s already got the nice ring; if you’re ready, then he’s ready, might as well—

“no! i mean, yes, i do, i really do, but not right now, i…” you trail off, not sure how to continue.

the room is silent, both of you staring at each other. after a minute he stands up, taking his seat back on the couch. “oh no,” he says, finally breaking the silence with a groan. “i ruined this, didn’t i?”

“no,” you sigh, having recovered enough from the shock to sit next to him again. “no, of course not. i’m just… surprised. i wasn’t expecting this. it must’ve cost a fortune.”

“it’s rude to ask someone the price of a gift, you know,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“trust me, i’m not asking,” you laugh. “i don’t even wanna know.”

“can… can i put it on you?” he asks, his voice getting soft again.

you look at him, and then at the glittering diamond ring in his hand, and you can’t not accept it. you nod, letting out a quiet “mhm” in agreement.

your eyes start to water as he slides it onto your finger, and he looks up worriedly when you sniffle. “it’s so pretty, oh my god,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

“please don’t cry,” he says softly, and he looks so upset that you have to reassure him you’re not mad and you just really, really like your gift.

you admire how it looks on your finger for a second before you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around him.

“i love it, baby,” you murmur. “you really didn’t have to do this.”

he hums. “but i wanted to. i wanted to show you how much i love you.”

tears well up in your eyes again, and you bury your face in his neck to hide them. “you already show me. every single day.”

he sighs, a happy sigh, relaxing into your arms. “i’m glad you like it.”

you stay like that for a while, gently rocking back and forth on the couch, peacefully enjoying everything. the scent of his cologne wafts around you, a comforting, familiar smell, and the colorful lights of the christmas tree shine softly in the background. you wouldn’t want to spend christmas anywhere else.

you pull away a little, breaking the silence with a short laugh. “mine’s gonna look so stupid compared to yours,” you pout as you snuggle into his side, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“are you gonna make me wait until tomorrow to open it?” he asks, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“no,” you sigh. “it’s probably after midnight by now, anyway.” you lift yourself out of his arms, going back into his room to get his present from one of your bags.

it’s a lightweight little box, and you hand it down to him. the gift itself isn’t big in size, but you know he likes taking the wrapping off, so you put it in a box and wrapped it for him.

he waits for you to come sit beside him again, and he opens it, carefully tearing the red and green paper with a grin on his face.

he opens the box, revealing a small piece of paper. he looks back at you. “baby? what’s this?”

your cheeks heat up as you begin to explain, suddenly feeling shy about your gift. “well, i… i rented out the movie theater we went to on our first date, and i thought it would be fun to, just… spend the day there, i don’t know.” you trail off, looking down at your hands, until seokmin takes them in his own.

when you look back up at him, his smile is so wide, it almost looks like it hurts. “i love it,” he beams, his voice breaking a little. “that’s so thoughtful, honey. i really love it.”

he leans forward to squeeze you in a hug, and you can’t help but smile, too.

“this is the best christmas ever,” he sighs into your neck, holding you tightly against him. “love you so much.”

he sits back, pulling you onto his lap facing him. “do you know where i got the ring from?” he asks suddenly, locking his hands behind your lower back.

you look at him. “um, kay? it says it on the box.”

he grins. “and?”

you frown in confusion. “and… what?”

the tips of his ears turn pink. “y’know, their slogan? ‘every kiss begins with kay’? from the commercials?”

you blink at him.

he groans, rolling his head back. “can i just kiss you now, please?”

you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck and rubbing your nose against his. “fine.”

and just as he’s about to, his pocket vibrates, and he pulls out his phone.

“my… boss?” he says, confused, showing you the screen.

you whine, resting your chin on his shoulder. “what does he want that can’t wait? it’s one in the morning on christmas eve– well, technically christmas morning, now.”

he looks at you with pleading eyes, and you sigh. “you can answer it. quickly, though, please?”

he presses a kiss to your cheek in thanks before sliding the button to accept the call, holding the phone up to his other ear. “hello?”

you can’t hear what’s being said on the other line, so you close your eyes, worn out from the night’s big surprises. you have a lot to do tomorrow—today—and you’ll need sleep if you want to spend the whole day with him like you want to.

seokmin sits up suddenly, startling you. you lean back, looking at him, wordlessly asking if something’s wrong. but he’s beaming, his smile so bright you’d think he’d just been told he won the lottery, and you crease your eyebrows in confusion.

he stays on the phone for another minute, listening intently. “thank you so much. merry christmas,” he says finally, then hangs up, tossing his phone to the other end of the couch.

“what? what is it?” you ask, still concerned despite his giddy expression.

he settles back, his hands sliding to your waist and holding you up on his lap. “i just got some news,” he says, and you know he’s being vague on purpose to draw out the suspense.

you pout. “well, are you gonna tell me, or not!”

he giggles, unable to hold it back any longer. “i got the promotion!” he yells.

your mouth falls open. “what promotion?” you ask, tentative.

“i didn’t wanna say anything unless i was sure, but there’s been a position available at the company, and they wanted to hire someone from within,” he says excitedly. “it wasn’t guaranteed that i’d get it, but i did! i got the promotion!”

“aw, seok! i’m so proud of you, baby,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him.

he pulls away after a second, and you look at him expectantly. “i have more news,” he says with a grin.

“and?”

“and… it comes with a big raise, so we’ll finally be able to afford a place together,” he beams, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, and feel your eyes well up with tears, spilling down your cheeks.

he calls your name softly, and you look up at him. “are you… what do you think?” he asks, his big eyes searching your watery ones.

“i– i’m just so happy,” you stammer, leaning down to hug him again. “i love you so much. this is more than i could’ve ever asked for.” you bury your face in his neck, letting your tears of joy fall onto his sweater.

“merry christmas, honey.”

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thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! if you liked this, reblog or leave an ask or a comment, it shows me you enjoyed this so i know to write more like this in the future!

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sevcasejay1chicago · 3 months

Note

Well in that case.... I’m gonna send you this idea... if it sparks inspo... sweet. If not or you don’t want to take such requests at the moment that’s totally cool too.

What about something where the reader is working a couple jobs like waitressing and bar tending or something while also going to college. During finals she’s working and studying and neglecting sleep and self care. Buck and Eddie start to get worried. So they convince her to come hang out at the station. She ends up collapsing (maybe on the stairs? And gets a minor concussion) due to exhaustion and dehydration. Once she gets home they both insist she just relax and nothing else. Lots of cuddles and bringing her food and water and basically only letting her up to pee. Ooh and maybe they give her a bubble bath... very spa like with candles and they do all the work and wash her hair for her and everything...

Over worked and under paid- Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley

Authors note: A few things.

1. I’m sorry this took so long. I’ve been so busy and I’ve only been able to write in short periods.

2. I know this isn’t my normal One Chicago content, but I love these boys too and you asked, so I (very lately) delivered.

Warnings: possible wrong medical jargon, passing out, over working, vomiting, concussion, FLUFF

———————————

The boys are nothing short of proud and amazed by you. You are working part time as a barista at the coffee shop down the street from the station and frequently bartend for a friend at the bar that the 118 goes to every now and then. On top of your busy work schedule, you are also going to school online full time, helping take care of Christopher when Buck and Eddie are at the station, and trying to make sure you do your part around the house. If you asked Buck and Eddie, they would say you do too much in the first place and the house is something they can take care of, but you feel obligated to do your part.

Finals week has always been tough for you, but this is the first year that you are working two jobs and going to school full time. Buck and Eddie have been trying to help you as much as they can, including making sure you eat and drink, but they have been having a hard time getting you to slow down and sleep. Your mind just goes and thinks through all the stuff you need to be studying, so you are often sneaking out of bed to do so, much to Buck and Eddie’s dislike.

One day, Chris calls Eddie while he is at the station to express his worry. You had picked Chris up from school and brought him home like normal, but you didn’t get him a snack and sit down to help with his homework like you always do. He always tells you that you don’t have to, but you always do it anyways. With you forgetting this, the parlor of your face, and the bags under your eyes, Chris is worried something is seriously wrong with you.

Eddie has Buck call you as he calls Carla to come hang out with Chris. Buck calls you an Uber, saying you’ll be staying at the station and they want to help with everything, so you’ll just ride home with them. You cave, thinking that they are all gonna help you study, but not knowing their plan to get you to sleep or rest at the very least.

You arrive with your book bag on your back, still in your jeans and black tee from work earlier. Buck and Eddie hear Hen greet you and go to meet you at the top of the stairs. They both go running down as they watch your eyes roll into the back of your head as you drop with a loud thud, your forehead smacking against the railing as you go down.

“Y/n!!” Buck, Eddie, Hen, and Bobby yell. Buck and Eddie run down to get to you as Hen grabs the kit from the ambo and Cap runs up the stairs, having just come in the side door after getting something out of his personal truck.

Bobby is the first to make it to you and carefully holds your head in one hand while checking your pulse with the other. “She’s tacky and has labored breathing.” Bobby announces to the room. “Hen, give me the collar and then go get the rig ready.” Bobby instructs, passing you off to Eddie to steady you as he calls for Chim. “Chim. I need you on the floor. Y/n’s down. We need to go to the hospital.” He says, then after hearing a quick copy, he switches the radio to the dispatch frequency. “Dispatch, this is Captain Nash with the 118. Do you copy?” Bobby says, waiting for the copy from Maddie at dispatch before continuing. “Maddie, Y/n just collapsed at the 118. We are loading her and taking her to the er. Take the house out of commission.” Bobby says, standing as Buck finishes putting the collar on you and Eddie helps him hoist you into Evan’s arms.

“Copy you. Keep me posted. Dispatch out.” Maddie says.

Buck gently lays you down on the stretcher as Eddie takes a towel from Hen to gently wipe the blood from your face. Your eyes flutter as you groan, trying to swat his hand away. Hen chuckles as Bobby shuts the doors and Chim takes off with sirens blaring.

“Baby. Baby. Shhh. Stop mi amor.” Eddie murmurs, cupping your cheek in his hand as Hen places a pulse ox on your right hand. “It’s okay. We gotcha. You passed out baby.” Eddie explains as Buck clutches your hand and tries to keep his cool next to Eddie.

“Mmmm. Ed-ddie.” You moan, leaning into his touch. “D-don’t f-feel well.” You murmur, trying to push yourself into a sitting position. You don’t even have to express the way your feeling as your face turns ashen and your eyes widen.

Buck immediately pulls a puke bag from the dispenser and puts it around your mouth. “Alright baby. I gotcha. Just do what you gotta do.” Buck says, taking your hand again as you reach for him. It pains him to see you in so much discomfort.

Your breathing gets faster as the nausea builds. You vaguely hear Hen talking to Eddie about you possibly having a concussion as you begin heaving, crying out in pain when you can catch your breath. Your hearing is equivalent to being under water, but you can tell that both Eddie and Buck are trying to sooth you as tears stream down your face. Once you push the bag away, Eddie gets onto the stretcher with you and puts a towel on his neck, allowing you to press your forehead into his neck as much as possible with the collar still on.

Once at the hospital, Eddie ends up having to ride with you into the ER since you won’t let him go. They basically force you to untangle as nurses and a doctor want you moving into a bed to begin assessing you. Buck and Eddie stand at the top of the bed, both lightly touching you somewhere to let you know they are still there, while the doctor examines your head and does a spinal test. After many tests are done, fluids are given, and you get well educated on concussion protocol and the importance of taking care of yourself, you are finally released into the care of Eddie and Buck again.

Bobby was thoughtful enough to grab the guys go bags and drive Buck’s jeep to the hospital. Once you are cleared, the 118 is back in service, but Buck and Eddie are relieved of duty for the time being so that you can be taken care of. Buck drives back home with you curled around Eddie in the back seat. They gave you a sedative in the er and something for the pain, so you are practically knocked out. That is, until you get home.

You sleepily clutch onto Buck as he takes you from Eddie’s arms when you arrive home. You immediately bury your face into his neck to hide from the street lights now that it’s pretty late into the night. Eddie opens the door and disappears into the kitchen as Buck sits down with you on the couch.

“Chris?” You murmur, wondering where your son is.

“Carla has him at her house. Just relax sweet girl.” Buck whispers, kissing you on the forehead.

“Mmm.” You hum, snuggling back into his embrace.

“Alright you.” Eddie says, coming in with a tray of food and drinks. “Toast for you ma’am. I put butter on both, just to help settle your stomach. I also got you your favorite flavored water.” He says, handing you the water first. “Drink.” He says gently, before turning back to the tray. “A sandwich and water for both of us too.” Eddie says, handing Buck his sandwich when his boyfriend makes to grab for it, but you whine at the shift, so Buck settles back down.

You lay on Buck’s chest, nibbling at your toast and drinking your water when prompted. He could care less that you are getting crumbs on him as long as your comfortable and eating. Once everyone is finished, Eddie goes to clean up, leaving you and Buck back on the couch. You yawn, rubbing your face into Evan’s shoulder, causing him to chuckle.

“Alright baby. Bath and bed for you.” Buck says, standing up with you once again. “Eddie! Gonna go get her cleaned up.” Buck calls, nodding as Eddie replies with an okay.

You started to protest, but Buck is quit to shut you down.

“No ma'am. You just chill out. You need to relax and let us take care of you for once.” Buck says, sitting you on the bathroom counter in the master .

“But I-“ you begin to say, but you are cut off by Eddie as he saunters into the bathroom.

“You will relax and let us take care of you.” Eddie says, coming to stand between your legs. “What happened today could have been avoided if we put our foot down. Now, you will allow us to pamper you and give yourself time to rest. Okay?” Eddie says, lightly connecting his forehead with yours.

You close your eyes and sigh gently. “Okay. I’m sorry.” You murmur, bottom lip trembling as you fight back tears.

“Shhh mi amor. It’s okay. We are just worried, that’s all.” Eddie whispered, gently capturing your lips in his.

“Just let us take care of you. Okay?” Buck adds, coming to your side and kissing the side of your head. “Now, let’s get you in the bath while it’s still hot and I’ll even light your favorite candle. Okay love?” Evan says, trying to get you in bed as quickly as possible given that your eyes are having trouble staying open.

You nod and allow Eddie to undress you. It’s definitely not easy to let yourself get taken care of. You’ve grown used to fighting through this rough patch and hiding it the best you can from your boys, but you love them and they love you. Luckily, that just might save your life.

That night, the boys gently wash your hair. Eddie sitting on the edge of the tub behind you, caging you in with his legs as he gently massages your scalp. Buck washes your body, gently rubbing your sore muscles as he goes. They don’t stop until you are practically asleep against Eddie’s knee. Buck scoops you out of the tub while Eddie goes to throw your pjs in the dryer to warm them up. They then both help dry you off, gently brushing and blow drying your hair. Once you are all dry, they put you in your pjs, which consist of one of their fire shirts and your undies. Then, they get dressed themselves before getting in bed with you and settling in for the night, knowing that you are safe and sound in their arms.

————————

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starlightkun · 17 days

Text

⇢ teaser word count: 2.2k | series word count: 67.8k ⇢ warnings: past unethical experimentation, brief blood and gore descriptions (some human and some non-human), you have to accept the premise of a single human empire in space in the future with colonies and a military and not think deeper about that ⇢ genre: sci-fi, set in the near-ish future, humans and aliens and robots, black op mission, captain kun, ?????? reader, slow burn, fluff, dash of angst, ft. wayv as the crew of the vision ⇢ extra info: took a lot of obvious inspo for this one from isaac asimov’s robot stories, specifically his concept of positronic brains & the three laws of robotics (and if you’ve read any of his stories, you’ll probably be able to see some other places too) ⇢ estimated release date: saturday, may 18, 2024 6:00 p.m. eastern time ⇢ series masterlist

The air smelled like blood, burned electrical components, and whatever horrible odor came from blood getting onto electrical components as they sparked. All the blood wasn’t human, you could tell that, too. Skipper blood always stung your nose like rubbing alcohol. It was pitch black in the space you were hiding in, or maybe it was just nighttime. You should be scared, but your heart wasn’t beating fast for some reason.

Two pairs of heavy footfalls. One was heavier than the other. Walking, so definitely not Skippers. Both were still too light to be heavier races.

They slowed to a stop outside your hiding spot, and you really hoped they couldn’t read the Outspacer controls that would open the otherwise impossible-to-see door. After all, it was a language that had been dead for hundreds of millions of years, there was no way—

“Hey, Zennie, you got a read on these?” A man’s voice came from nearby, muffled by both the wall and presumably a helmet as well. Human, or related species.

You couldn’t hear this ‘Zennie’s reply, as it most likely came through the comms in his helmet, but you could hear the man’s side of the conversation.

“Oh, of course, how dare I, a mere meatsack, doubt your high-and-mighty artificial intelligence,” he replied with fake deference. “Yeah, yeah, I know that’s not what you meant. Alright, so just tell me which one’s the self-destruct button so I don’t press it?”

“Move, Wong, before you blow us up.” Another voice interjected. “ZEN? You said it’s a passageway? Oh, safe shelter. Bit different, don’t you think? Mind translating the dead language right the first time?”

He paused as he probably listened to Zen’s reply, then continued, “So? You know which one’s the open button?”

You couldn’t go anywhere. The hideout you were in was designed to hold only a few people for weather emergencies, to be structurally sound; not to have a back door in case you needed to escape intruders. You just had to hope Zen was completely wrong and they wouldn’t get it open.

Click.

There goes that.

The door dematerialized, and the rancid smell from before became even stronger. A man peered in barrel-first, and you recoiled back from the sudden light flooding your vision. You couldn’t press yourself any further back into the corner, but you still turned your head away to shield your sensitive eyes.

It only took a couple strides for one of the men to reach you, the other stayed back in the hallway, keeping his rifle fixed on you. The man stood over where you were sitting on the floor—your legs had gotten tired of standing after so long—and lowered his gun slightly so you could see the entirety of the front plate that covered his face. It was a reflective shield that gave you no clue to who was behind it, only let you see a warped, thinned and stretched version of yourself cowering in a corner. His armor was an improved version of the standard issue United Human Navy, if the insignia on both of his shoulders didn’t make that clear enough. It looked the same as the standard issue, but the heft of his footsteps had belied a weight difference that wasn’t explained by his stature or build, so it must be the grade of material.

“Are you hurt?” His voice came through an external speaker on his helmet. He was speaking in standard human. You couldn’t detect any sort of odd stiltedness or lag that sometimes happened with computer-assisted translations. He was assuming you understood standard human, and you did.

“No,” you replied, slowly uncrossing your arms to show your hands first, that you didn’t have anything hidden in them to attack him with. You still weren’t scared, for some reason.

“Oh, she’s pretty,” his companion commented from the hallway. The two of them must be sharing helmet feeds, as the one in front of you was definitely blocking most of you from his sight.

“Wong, shut it.” The outer speaker had been turned off for that, but it was still pretty clear to you.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“Can you stand?” His weapon was still at the ready, his finger resting above the trigger.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d wiggled your fingers and toes, and it felt good to do it. “Yes.”

He stepped back, the unexpressive mirror of his face shield watching as you pushed up from your half-sit half-crouch, bracing yourself against the wall. Your body instinctively took a deep breath to try to recover from the sudden exertion, but the vaporized Skipper blood burned your entire respiratory tract, and you coughed and spluttered trying to force it back out, catching yourself on the wall on your forearms to stay upright. The odor made your head swim, your eyes water, and your chest hurt like someone had put gasoline in your lungs and struck a match.

“Okay, woah, woah.” Two gloved hands were on your arms and back, helping you stay up. His voice was muffled again as he switched to his in-helmet comms, “Xiao, get over here! We’ve got a survivor! Yes, really, just look at my stream.”

Then, his voice was projecting to you once more, “Breathe, breathe.”

You felt the roughness of a thumb wiping at the tears running down your cheeks, the durable material of his glove scratching against your skin. He grabbed the front of your shirt collar, pulling it up towards your face at the same time he firmly pulled your hand down that had been covering your mouth as you wheezed. Positioning the material over your nose and mouth into a makeshift filter of some sort, he continued holding it there for you as you took a few breaths.

“Better?”

You nodded shallowly. The smell of Skipper blood still cloyed to your throat and lungs, but the shirt helped keep more from entering.

More footsteps from down the hall, then another pair entered the shelter.

“Holy shit…” Someone breathed out.

“I know, man,” the voice that you were already pretty sure was ‘Wong’ from earlier replied.

“How long has she been in here?” A fourth voice asked, belonging to the footsteps getting closer to you.

“I don’t know,” the man already with you answered. “Wong and I just found her while clearing this sector.”

“Okay, well, you mind, Captain?” He said indicatively. “Can’t examine my patient through you.”

“You got it?” The captain asked you, shaking the collar slightly.

You took it from him, holding it over the bridge of your nose yourself as he had been doing for you before. Looking into his face shield where you were pretty sure his eyes should be, you nodded firmly this time.

He didn’t step back until you felt another pair of gloves grabbing your elbows where he had been. The newcomer’s uniform differed from the others’ in one way, he had a neon green rectangular patch on his right arm below his UHN insignia, as well as a few other places—intergalactic signal for medic. It was removable for the wearer’s own safety, and his in particular was slightly askew, as if he’d just slapped it back on in a hurry.

The medic flipped through the pockets of a pack strapped to his thigh before pulling out a small disc of clear plastic and pushing that against your hand. “Here, this’ll work a lot better than your shirt.”

You accepted it, and he helped you orient it the right way over your nose and mouth. It was apparently a mask or rebreather of some sort. It wasn’t exceptionally bulky, and you could feel that there was some sort of fine mesh material on the inside. Immediately, you could tell the difference. The air coming into your lungs carried only the slightest tinge of lingering burning electronics smell, and while you could tell that there was Skipper blood, it didn’t burn, or make your head spin. It was just unpleasant.

“There. How’s that?”

You gave him a thumbs-up, the standard human gesture for good, since they all seemed to speak standard human. The mask didn’t allow much room for talking.

“Alright, good. Are you injured?”

You shook your head.

“Do you feel pain anywhere?”

You shook your head again.

“Good, good. I have more questions, but we should get somewhere you can breathe. Give me a second.” He looked upwards as if talking to the heavens, and his outer speaker turned off. “Liu? Professor? Did you finish clearing the building? Alright, ZEN, got readings on air quality for her?”

After a pause, both the medic, Xiao, and the captain, who had been hovering behind him the whole time, nodded.

“Thanks, ZEN.” Xiao’s speaker turned on, “Here, our teammates found somewhere that you can breathe. It’s going to be a little bit of a walk, though. Is that okay?”

You nodded. Your legs would just have to deal.

“It’s not pretty out here…” The only one that hadn’t been identified to you in passing called out as a warning from his position in the hallway with ‘Wong.’

You turned around and pushed off the wall as your answer.

Stepping into the hall, you knew why you had smelled that particular concoction of smells. Just off to your left were two dead Skippers, their uniquely-articulated hind limbs that gave them their distinct gait—and consequently, the questionably flattering nickname from humans—stuck out at awkward angles now. Dark purple sludge seeped out from under their armor, Skipper blood. On the outside of the armor were smears, streaks, and splatters turned a gleaming ruby red under the emergency lights, human blood.

You couldn’t see any dead humans, or pieces of them, in this corner, but you remembered what the captain had called you. A survivor. Which meant there were others who didn’t survive.

“Come on.” It was the captain who ushered you the other direction from the Skipper bodies. “This way.”

Their helmets must have been mapping out the facility as the unit cleared it and displaying a route in all of their HUDs, because the four of them moved as if they knew the building like the back of their hand. The captain and Xiao flanked you on either side, with Wong at the front and the fourth unnamed one at the rear. You couldn’t tell if it felt more like a protection detail or a prisoner transport.

You kept your eyes on your feet not only so you didn’t have to see all of the mutilation, or to keep from stepping in something, but to avoid the unsettling, cold dread slowly sinking over you when from the moment you caught a look at the first dead human you passed by with her remarkably in-tact face, dandelion yellow blouse and lab coat, and realized you didn’t recognize her. When you inhaled sharply and shot your eyes down to your feet, you could tell that the captain noticed. He turned his head just ever so slightly towards you, off of the consistent path it had been before, and he paused, then went back to keeping watch.

They weren’t kidding when they said it was a bit of a walk. You could feel the muscles in your legs get sore, then start twitching, then start shaking, but you didn’t even consider asking to stop.

“Woah, Liu, slow down!” The captain ordered into his headset. “Okay, yeah, I see it. Don’t touch anything. We’re just sweeping right now, remember?”

“Great, the kid’s found more toys,” the one behind you snorted.

Xiao and Wong suddenly erupted into more laughter than that statement warranted you were pretty sure.

Wong then informed him with a snicker, “Mic’s on, Ten.”

“You say that as if I wouldn’t have said that to his face, too,” the one now finally identified as Ten retorted.

“ZEN, the mics, please?” The captain sighed. “Thank you.”

“Now he’s going to whine that we were shit talking him behind his back,” Xiao groaned. “Again.”

“Well we are,” Ten laughed.

“If he just stopped acting like a baby, Captain here wouldn’t have to step in and put him in time out all the time,” Wong clicked his tongue.

“You think he’s the one in time out right now?” The captain replied dryly.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle into your mask, trying to cover it up with a cough when all four of their reflective shields whipped around to face you, as if they’d forgotten you were there. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, they all shifted back into their watchful stances.

The captain suddenly spoke again, “Yes, Professor? Okay, sure… ZEN, put that on everyone’s HUDs.”

The lack of commentary from any of them for seemingly several minutes was startling, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what this ‘Professor’ was showing them.

“We’re going to have to go back there after dropping Xiao and her off, aren’t we?” Wong was the first to speak.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” Ten sighed.

“Or already know the answer to,” the captain said. “If she has any wounds that Xiao needs to tend to, one of you will stay to keep guard. If not, it’ll be Ten and Wong with me to meet up with Liu and the Professor, and Xiao will stay with her.”

“Alright, Ten,” Wong rolled out his neck. “Rock paper scissors?”

⇢ series masterlist | blog masterlist

#kun #kun x reader #wayv x reader #nct x reader #wayv #nct #kun imagine #wayv imagine #nct imagine #i: kun #f: frankenstein complex #fc: teaser #text #mine #writing #bias tag #kunkun

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bloodlustngore · 1 year

Text

My safe place is you - Emily Prentiss

Okay so I managed to spark up some sort of inspo up for another Emily Prentiss oneshot but its more cuddling ofc (maybe some slight teasing too)

You were pretty exhausted after this case, everyone was. Emily always lets you rest your head on her shoulder on the jet and she also gives the best cuddles back at home, you feel so safe with her.

The case was finally over and the unsub caught. You had been feeling exhausted this entire week, working tirelessly to catch this guy that you didn't even bother sleeping much. You were up most nights at the hotel and only got 2 hours sleep at the most.

In fact, the last three nights you'd spend in Emily's hotel room because she had insisted it be okay and that you can get some proper rest. You'd always felt safer and calmer around the brunette woman, especially when she lets you rest your head on her shoulder or when she cuddles you, places her hand in yours or any type of comfort. Because your love language was physical touch, sometimes you felt annoying but Emily always let you know that she doesn't mind whatsoever because she's the one who suggests things in the first place.

Most people would think you're a couple or something with the way you acted with each other, the rest of the team called you a 'married couple' sometimes just to tease you both. But neither you or Emily cared because you both loved each other and that's all you knew.

On the jet, Emily sat beside you, giving you a smile as she sat down. Her hand found yours and she intertwined her fingers with yours. "Y/n you need to get some rest, okay." Emily mentions.

"I know but I get really anxious when I try to sleep on the jet" you added, the jet was something that flew in the air so you had a valid reason to get anxious, but less when Emily was there which she was right now.

"I know Y/n I know. I'll wake you up when we're back and then we can grab a late night takeout, how's that sound?" Emily asked, trying to take your mind off of things. "Mhm sounds good" you added, finally resting your head on Emily's shoulder, relaxing instantly.

"Then we can go to mine, watch a movie or continue catching up on a show but you have to rest afterwards" Emily smiles, of course you were going to say yes to that. Either way it would already of been the plan if it was said or not. You barely even spent time in your own apartment at this point.

You didn't answer because the moment you closed your eyes and knew that Emily was there beside you; you felt at piece. ~~~~ When everyone got back, you all said your 'good nights' and went separate ways except for you and Emily. She got in her car and you got in with her, driving to a pizza place to get takeout from and then drive back to her apartment.

You felt very touchy and wanted to hold Emily's hand as you entered the apartment building. The thing was you didn't even need to ask, she knew already. Holding the box of pizza in one hand and yours in the other, smiling to yourself; you glanced at Emily and saw the smile on her face.

You hadn't a clue why you wanted to kiss her so badly at this point but you just really had the urge to crash your lips against hers and forget about the pizza and anything else. Trying to keep your mind occupied with other thoughts really didn't work as best as it should.

Walking to Emily' apartment she unlocks the door and lets you in before closing it behind you "feels so good to be home" she mentions as she turns the hall light on along with the living room light "I can agree on that, definitely good to be home" you agreed, plopping down on her sofa. Emily smirked at you when she realised what you had just called her apartment, you called it 'home'. But you didn't realise what you said until Emily smirked at you and pointed it out.

"Did you just call my apartment, home?" Emily asked, just to make you say it one more time. Although she doesn't think it'll ever get old to hear you say that.

You sit up, watching as Emily comes over to the sofa, placing the pizza in the box on the coffee table, sitting beside you and facing you waiting for your reply. "I guess I did, at this point it is like a home to me more than my own apartment" you finally spoke, as soon as you realised what you had said previously.

Whilst the two of you ate the pizza, a show was playing in the background, honestly though neither of you were watching much of it. At some point after the third slice of pizza you had, you decided that you would lay your head on Emily's lap and laying down on the sofa as she moved to one end and sat up. Her hand playing with your hair every now and then, as you glanced up at Emily and she glanced down at you.

The brunette agent had said something but you weren't paying much attention, all you could think about was how much you wanted to kiss Emily...you tried not to think about it because you didn't want to ruin the friendship you had with each other, but then again people already thought you were a couple, considering the amount of flirtatiousness, physical affection and just the way Emily and you look at one another. Penelope has pointed it out to you many times that you should just tell Emily how you felt...but its not so simple when you haven't a clue if Emily really likes you back in that way and the fact she's technically your boss. And this has been going on for months, but you're very good at hiding things. Or atleast you thought.

"Em, I'm really tired" you mention, with a yawn following after. "Me too, its midnight and we do have to go back to work" Emily adds. Which made you roll your eyes. "I didn't have time to bring spare clothes with me though".

Emily chuckled "Y/n, you still have a hoodie of yours here, a few of your tops, and a pair of jeans but you can always borrow some of my clothes".

You sighed, you did remember leaving some clothes at her apartment in case you stayed over for the night or even a few nights but the whole thing with sharing Emily's clothes is that people would insinuate things and maybe Emily doesn't want any of that to happen. "Remember last time I wore one of your blouses to work, Luke thought we were sleeping together?" You questioned.

Emily chuckled "Oh I remember that" but smirked once more afterwards you looked at her wondering what that smirk was for internally gay panicking, but visibly blushing. Emily and you loved teasing the team about it sometimes it was quite fun making them guess something is going on then telling them that they're completely wrong and that nothing is going on between you.

But the problem was you wished something was going on. You wanted, you loved Emily Prentiss.

"Come on Em, lets get some rest, we can get a shower when we wake up" changing the subject immedietely after, she furrowed her brow, usually she was the one saying that to you...but instead you said that to her. Walking into the bedroom, you would both have a shower in the morning instead. Emily handed you a t-shirt and some lounge shorts to wear which would be more comfortable as you slipped into them.

Emily just stripped off her clothes right in front of you (although you do that sometimes anyway), unclipping her bra and putting the tank top over her head and then putting these pyjama bottoms on. She wished that you could see the fact she noticed you looking at her and the smirk on her face. Emily slipped into the bed under the sheets next to you, biting her lip as you turned over to face her.

You let out a sigh, looking into Emily' eyes but then looking a her lips, you wondered what she would taste like, how her lips would feel against yours and that was it...you had to kiss her. "Emily" You whisper her name.

"Yes, Y/n?" She answers.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked, instead of just crashing your lips against hers in case she didn't like that, you had asked which is the polite thing to do. "Y/n, you don't have to ask" Emily replied with a smile.

Emily was the first one to make a move, crashing her lips against yours, they tasted like that vanila lip balm she always wore, her lips so soft. You had kissed back almost instantly and when you did, the kiss got way more heated. Emily' hand went to your thigh and she squeezed it slightly, a quiet moan slipping from your lips as she smirked into the kiss. Emily wanted to get on top of you and continue but you needed rest and this was just distracting you from getting a good few hours sleep in.

The brunette woman took her hand off your thigh and pulled away from the kiss, you tried to kiss her again but she had placed her index finger on your mouth "get some rest baby, its almost one in the morning".

"You can't just kiss me and tease me like that then expect me to sleep!" You whined wanting more of her. "I just did. You really need rest Y/n, I'm not going anywhere. We're still cuddling." Emily mentioned.

You sighed and was about to say something else in protest until Emily interrupted you "if you rest we can continue this later and also I'm taking you on a date after work if we can tomorrow".

This made you smile and definitely agree to rest "okay but one more kiss?" You pouted hoping that she will give you what you wanted. Emily rolled her eyes at you but placed a quick kiss on your lips. You smiled in victory. "Turn around, you're the little spoon" Emily chuckles. Turning around, facing away from Emily, she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to her body, legs tangled in each other. All of a sudden Emily had kissed your neck which sent the good kind of shivers down your back, the things this woman can do to you. "Goodnight Y/n" Emily whispers. She always made you feel safe and wanted.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #fluff #criminal minds #This is just a self insert tbh #I want cuddles from Emily Prentiss #pls #cuteness #internal gay panic included

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samlovesradiohead · 14 days

Text

false idols - ch. 2

lucifer x f!reader

cw: slow burn, drug + alcohol usage, lowkey enemies to lovers, more to be added

wc: 2.3k

a/n: rip charlie you wouldve loved taylor swift, lululemon, and stanley cups. charlie would love the clean girl aesthetic. (btw, i get a lot of my inspo from taylor swift and phoebe bridgers i love them so much) I REALLY HATE THIS CHAPTER NEXT ONE WILL BE BETTER TRUST ME. im winging this whole story

thinking about making a playlist for this fic. anyway heres the song i been listening to on repeat while writing this: the albatross - taylor swift (the tortured poets department - the anthology)

“Why didn’t you tell me you were famous?! That is so cool!!!” Charlie bursts in your room, startling you so much that you almost fall off your bed. It was after dinner, and you had announced to the group you were turning in for the night. You were in the middle of watching hell’s equivalent to trashy reality TV, and it was pretty entertaining.

“Sorry for scaring you, I’m just really excited at the news!”

“Who told you?” You ask, but you already have an idea. And when she replies with Angel’s name, you internally high-five yourself for guessing correctly. You adjust yourself to sit upright at the edge of the bed to face Charlie. “I figured. I was just answering his questions while having a drink with him and Husk at the bar.”

You can see Charlie practically vibrating in excitement at this new revelation. “What kind of songs did you sing? What genre? How many fans did you have? Did-” Charlie is abruptly interrupted by you.

“One question at a time, girl!” You give a light chuckle at Charlie’s embarrassment, a light pink flush decorating her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, you’d think as the princess of hell I’d be accustomed to people with status, but it’s different! The ones I know are just old, stuck-up royals. I’ve never met a famous singer before.” Charlie giddily explains, hands clasped together.

“It’s fine. I’ve seen way worse reactions when people meet me. I used to be a popstar. I’d say I was…” you didn’t want to seem like an asshole bragging about how many fans you had, “decently famous. Of course, there are always people who had to catastrophize the things I did, so, my career did have its fair share of scandals.” You make the assumption that she would also like to know how you died, so you tell her. “Now I’m here because I got poisoned at a party.”

You still think your death was not how it should’ve been. But you can’t do anything to change it now. Young starlets died all the time. You weren’t special. Honestly, you thought you’d be a bit sadder about dying. But with death came an escape from the chains of your previous life, and for that you are grateful.

An exasperated expression paints her face as you nonchalantly let her know how you wound up in hell. “That’s a horrible way to go, I’m sorry you went through that. At least you’re here now!”

You sigh. “It’s alright. I was being stupid, kinda deserved it. It’s whatever now. I’m glad you guys were the first people I found. I don’t wanna imagine what could have happened to me if I stayed out in the streets. Thank you, Charlie, seriously.”

“I just want to help my people. It’s no big deal.”

You smile at that. Charlie, the ever-saintly hellborn.

She sparks up. “I know it's your first day, and I’m not sure how much the others have told you, but sometimes, especially powerful sinners gain powers relating to how they lived or died. I figured since you were quite reputable on earth, you’d have powers that coincided with your singing, kind of like my mom. We don’t have to test that out right now, but I was just letting you know!”

Woah. “Really? Hmm, I might test it out later.” A part of you hopes that you do indeed have powers. Maybe you could scream at supersonic levels and make people’s ears explode.

“Okay, next question! Do you think… how do I word this… do you think some of your fans are down here?” Huh. You actually never considered that. Your career spans from your late teens to 27 years old (since that’s the age you died at). There’s no way some fans haven’t died throughout that span. You ponder her question for a second.

“More than likely. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Charlie’s eyes light up. You can already tell she has something planned. “I have the most fantastic idea ever involving you but I don’t want to push you out of your comfort zone this early into your stay here, but what if we orchestrated a mini-concert, with you singing of course! Sinners and your fans that are down here can come enjoy your music and learn about the hotel, maybe they’ll take a chance on redemption!”

You gotta hand it to Charlie: she really wants to help sinners. Her explanation earlier was evidence enough, but her pure dedication is admirable. As for you, you’re not sure redemption is possible, as there hasn’t been proof of it. You’re not even sure if you want to go to heaven. For now, you’ll help Charlie with her dream while trying to figure out what you want. It’s the least you could do, as she is letting you basically free-load off of her.

Her idea didn’t really deter you, anyway. You performed at packed stadiums plenty of times, a simple concert isn’t that bad. A tiny part of you is excited to visit the echoes of your former glory. Is that selfish, to want to restore what once was?

“That sounds cool. I’m down. But, uhhh, where and how will we make that happen?” The logistics of the situation hit you mid-agreement. Seriously, how?

Charlie laughs, “I’ll ask my dad, Lucifer. He can basically make anything at the snap of his fingers. Ooh, by the way, I’m going to call him up tomorrow. He may or may not swing by and visit.”

You stand up immediately at that. “Lucifer?! Like the Devil from the Bible!??!” Why did it not hit you till now? You figured her dad was some king or whatever, but you didn’t expect her dad to be THE king of hell. The church raised you on the scariest iterations of Lucifer, so you only expect the worst. What if he incinerates you for looking at him wrong?!

She chuckles at your reaction. “He is nothing like what humans are taught. He’s a real sweet guy, albeit a little… distant. I promise, he won’t kill you a second time, unless you do something really bad. But I doubt you will!”

Her assuring words offer some comfort to your original antsiness. Still, it’ll be your second day tomorrow and you’re already (possibly) meeting the king of hell. “That’s … refreshing to know.”

“It’ll be alright.” Charlie reassures you, assuring herself as well in the process. “Anyway, I’ll leave you alone for the night. Vaggie and I’s suite is just down the hall, knock if you need anything.” She back steps towards the door, swinging it open. “Goodnight!” she says before closing your door. You repeat the pleasantry. The door clicks, signaling its closure.

Sleep came quite quickly after the talk with Charlie. But before slumber pulled you under, you did some introspection while staring at the blank ceiling above you. This time of the day is when you surrender yourself to your worst thoughts.

You thought of this while dying, but now its persistence has fully enraptured your attention. You can’t help but think of the world you left behind. Did they find your body yet? You can see the tabloids now: “Global Popstar Phenomenon Found Dead from Laced Drink at Trashy Party Bathroom”. What a joke.

Even now, you are nitpicking yourself to atoms as you realize you’re thinking about what the world thinks of you instead of worrying about the few real people who cared for you.

You can count on one hand how many people carried genuine sympathy for you. Two friends from your childhood, but even that’s pushing it because you haven’t been keeping up with them. You’d count your ex, but that was before. So… who was left to mourn you?

These self-deprecating thoughts came to you in familiarity. It is known that celebrities are extremely unhappy and you were no exception.

In life, perfection was always a concept you tried to reach. You knew you couldn’t do it, but you tried to get as close as possible to it. It didn’t help that your management team was also ensuring you were at your best at all times. With practice and rehearsals for concerts leaving you overly exhausted and bruised, to taking hours in the dressing room, trying on different outfits and makeup styles to see what fits best, you don’t know how you’ve survived that long under those conditions. The team will be very relieved to find out they don’t have to manage a prima donna anymore if they didn’t know you were dead already. And this thought made you feel awful. God damn, why is it every thought trails back to you feeling bad about yourself?

You push these demeaning voices aside as you close your eyes.

– – – –

You wake up to the sound of rustling coming from your closet. Still, your morning grogginess lingers. Rubbing your eyes while sitting up, you try to focus your vision on the movement coming from the closet.

Hearing you move instantly had Charlie shooting her head out of the closet. “Oh My Gosh I am SOOOO sorry for waking you up. But I forgot to give you a wardrobe, so I woke up super early to go get some outfits for you! And I may or may not have been listening to your music catalog while out in town…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at her, she was just so adorable. Her unlimited kindness is fascinating to you. “It’s okay, Charlie. This is about the time I wake up anyway. But you were listening to my music? I didn’t know hell had access to earthly media.”

She stands up, straightening out her clothes as she explains, “We don’t! But you know, after tinkering around and doing some searches, I found a website that uploads music from earth! How they manage that, I’m not sure. But it’s there! It seemed like your entire catalog was there, so I listened! I’ve been listening since last night before Vaggie told me to go to sleep. You’re such a great songwriter and singer!”

You were used to compliments up on earth. Oftentimes, they were said under false pretenses and malicious reasons. But for some reason, it feels more personal now. Maybe it was the genuine look and obvious sincerity in her tone, but it was different than usual. Blood rushes to your cheeks as you stammer out a mousy ‘thank you’.

“Oh! By the way, Vaggie’s almost done with breakfast. So, get ready!”

It’s after breakfast, and you sit on the couch with Angel Dust, watching Charlie pace back and forth.

“Babe, just call him. You won’t know his answer unless you talk,” Vaggie says, trying to console her girlfriend. Charlie takes a deep breath.

“Okay, you’re right. I am calling my dad.” And so she did.

You felt bad for her, seeing as her responses and facial expressions were evident of her emotions. It was clear her and her father don’t have the closest relationship, with her grimacing face making an appearance continually throughout the call. After a minute of awkwardness, she ends the call, turning to the group who were now seated on the couch.

“Okay sooooooooooo my dad’s going to be here in an hour.”

Angel and Niffty seem excited at the news.

“I’ve always wanted to meet the big dick in charge.”

“The ultimate bad boy!”

Vaggie pretends like she didn’t hear that. She takes charge as she gives out orders to the residents. “Alright, Lucifer’s going to be here in an hour. Let’s get this hotel presentable.”

— — — —

Lucifer continues to stare at the portrait, even after the call ends. The frozen glimpse of the family haunts him. He can feel an isolating cold run through his body as he stares into the eyes of both his daughter and … ex-wife. Charlie, standing there, shyly smiling, but with wide bright eyes. And Lilith, the former Queen of Hell, emulates prestige and elegance like no other. Even framed, her beauty was radiant. A looming aura of gloom and despair was ever present within the king.

Some days, Lucifer thinks he’s finally over it and that he’s ready to face everyone after years of cowardice. But one glance back at the stagnant memory and into the hypnotizing gaze of his first love, he crumbles apart again, just as he did when he first saw her in Eden.

It is unfathomable to him that after being condemned to damnation for eternity, raising hell from the ground up, and creating a child together that she would leave it all behind. 7 years has not changed his questions for her disappearance. He knew it was getting rocky after Charlie was born. Even with Lilith constantly taking Charlie away from Lucifer and arguments over the governance of Hell, he never thought she’d leave after over 10,000 years of marriage.

To be quite honest, Lucifer is tired of Lilith haunting him. Echoes of her presence still linger in the palace and her phantoms breach the darkest corners of his psyche. It’s like she’s tormenting him with memories of her and their love. He wishes he could get over it that quickly, but being together since the fall of humanity has instilled its lasting legacy on him. Lucifer does not want to be a doddering fool who keeps wistfully yearning for the woman he loves, but he can’t help but play the role. He obviously still loves her dearly, but he knows what they had has long been buried by time.

This phone call with Charlie has granted him a chance to make up for the past few years of distance, isolation, and hurt he has bestowed upon his own daughter.

“I’m trying my best, dearest.” His fingers trace Lilith’s enigmatic figure in the portrait.

---- ----

tag :3 @vififofum

#false idols lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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kairismess · 4 months

Text

bon appetit ~ !

🍰 kairi's mini event 001.

🍥 author's note: so i went home early because i was feeling really sickly (if i only had yang's username i'd @'t them, but @xoxo-cha, i'm finally resting don't u worry) but i'm kinda bored being at home with nothing to do, and seeing the new hq official art of the karasuno and nekoma boys IN WAITER UNIFORMS did something to me .

💭 so what is this event about?

this event is about the haikyuu boys in a cafe/barista/waiter au !! after seeing the official art all over my twt, i figured, why not write a few imagines regarding them?

i'm absolutely IN LOVE with the new official art because it sparks a lot of inspo for me, though i didn't have one particular character in mind ... ( ･ั﹏･ั)

hence, you guys can send me an ask/request for an imagine you'd like me to write about specific haikyuu characters you'd live to see in a cafe/barista/waiter au !!

💭 what kind of requests can we ask for?

so far, since i'm kind of sick, i can't do long fics for now :(( unless i get better and start feeling productive, then i can !!

you all can ask for imagines, headcanons, drabbles, or scenarios !! i don't mind which characters to do, so long as they've been featured in the anime already !! (i'm currently reading the manga, so this might be subjected to change ~~~)

💭 how long will this event last?

i'm thinking until... maybe the second week of february !! yeah, it's a long while, but i might change that if i don't get as many requests or i might feel unable to continue the event (๑´•.̫ • `๑)

anyway, that's all for today !! i'd love to see your requests in my inbox, and so sorry to those who requested on this account and my main, school has been getting in the way recently and my motivation and inspo ... kinda tanked before seeing that official hq art 😵

but no worries !! i see your requests and am RARING TO GO START ON THEM ONCE I GET BETTER (◡ ω ◡)

stay safe and healthy my babes !! (≧▽≦)

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wildflowerluver · 1 year

Note

HI I LOVE YOUR WORKS AND YOURE AWESOME !!! some of my fav hotch fics ever for real <3

if you’re still looking for ideas for the aaron hurt/comfort idea you posted about i thought i'd try to supply you with inspo ! maybe reader is an anxious overthinker (couldn't be any of us hotch stans wdym) and is feeling really anxious bc they feel like they made a friend mad/upset for some reason bc the friend seemed a little off + hasn't replied to readers messages. so poor reader is just so concerned and scared they did something wrong and on top of that they're tired, stressed, and overall overwhelmed so they just CRYYY and ofc hotch comes along and does his comfort thing and reasons through it with them. and then reader's friend texts them back like hey sorry i was really busy today but yeah! we should definitely go out more, i had a ton of fun today!! bc we need closure here LOL and then reader can cuddle and fall asleep with hotch to get out any lingering anxiety and take care of that sleepiness fr

THIS IS SO LONG IM SORRY MY BRAIN WAS TRYING SO HARD TO COME UP WITH SOMETHING AND IT TRIED A LITTLE TOO HARD I THINK LMAO hopefully this sparks something for you tho ! of course feel free to do what you wish with this, change it around, whatever it may be there's always no pressure !! happy vibes for you <3

(ria!!! thank u for ur request ily <33) fem!reader, anxiety, mentions of past friendship issues, hurt/comfort vibes, 1k words

ʚ♡ɞ

you had a natural tendency to overthink.

every interaction, big or small, seemed to replay in your head for hours. had you said something off? did that person see something strange about you?

you were terrified to tell aaron about your struggles with anxiety and overthinking. it hadn’t gone well in the past several times and you didn’t want aaron to leave too. but, he didn’t. it never even crossed your mind.

aaron collected you in his arms, squeezing you tightly and thanking you for telling him. he asked what you needed from him.

“reassurance,” you spoke tentatively. not once had a previous partner asked how they could help. “and maybe a kiss.”

his laugh was full-body, lips upturning. “i think both of those can definitely be arranged.”

___

aaron hadn’t been home a lot recently.

he was away on a case down in texas, then swarmed with meetings and paperwork, another local case, and more paperwork. the absence of him was starting to impact you severely.

just in the way you were open about your anxiety, he was open about his job and the time aspect of it. he called or texted, reassuring (like he promised), that he would be home soon or the timeframe of the case. you just couldn’t help your intrusive thoughts from creeping up.

you tried to fill his absence in a productive way, maximizing the time you had outside of work by reaching out to some friends to hang out. your friend B and you set up a lunch date. she was a close friend and you knew being in her company would help your mood.

usually when you’re with her, time seems to go by fast and conversation flows easily. this time was the opposite. you had met for lunch downtown and expected it to be like it always was. instead, it felt so forced it was almost uncomfortable. naturally, your brain had drifted into believing it was something you had said.

you were on autopilot going home, brain reeling at lunch. you wanted aaron. he always knew what to say or do and was your number one comfort. but he wasn’t here.

you trudged into the house, haphazardly dropping your bag. you sat in front of the fireplace, it wasn’t warm but in your mind it was.

it was the first time in weeks you felt like you had a moment to stop.

the tears came hot and fast.

you buried your head in your knees, arms wrapping around your legs as your body shook. everything felt wrong and you were so terrified you had hurt B.

you were exhausted.

the back door open and closed. you hardly took notice. your head was pounding.

“honey!” aaron’s voice rang through the home. “i’m home!”

his voice only made you cry harder, though you kept your sobs muffled by the fabric of your pants. it was early, he shouldn’t be home yet. why was he home?

“honey?” he called again. “i got off early today, sent the entire team home early too. figured we all-”

he stopped dead in his tracks when he entered the living room and his eyes fell on you. “oh, honey.”

in an instant, aaron was kneeling down at your side. the second his hand touched your back, you broke. you threw your body into him, needing to feel him close. he held you while you cried, hand rubbing up your back. he didn’t shush you or help you calm down just yet. you just needed to cry.

after a few minutes aaron pulled back, hands reaching up to cup your face. he thumbed away a few stray tears that continued to roll.

“what’s hurting you?”

you took a deep breath before explaining. it was always easy with aaron to be honest. you rambled about his absence, how you missed him, how work had been a little tough lately, lunch with B, how you feel like you said or did something that made it feel off. everything.

though aaron had sat back on the carpet, your hands remained interlocked. he squeezed them occasionally throughout your words.

he collected you in his arms when you finished. “i’m so sorry about being away. i shouldn’t be going anywhere for awhile. i’m sure B is okay. you didn’t say anything off. maybe she was just having a bad day.”

your phone dinged on the table.

aaron picked it up, features softening at the text. perfect timing.

‘hey! so sorry if i seemed a little off at lunch today - work has just been super crazy and i got an email right before about a deadline being pushed up so i was distracted. it was still so so nice to get together, we should definitely do it again sometime soon!!’

he showed you the text B just sent. his hand fell to the small of your back again, finding the patch of exposed skin and leaving his hand there.

B’s text eased your anxiety. you didn’t do anything wrong. she was just having an off day.

“do you feel better? about B at least?”

you hummed. “a little, yeah.”

you slumped into aaron’s side. “can we go lay down for a little?”

he kissed your cheek. “absolutely.”

aaron guided you upstairs, stopping though to put his work things away though he motioned for you to head into the bedroom to get settled.

you kept the lights in the room off before crawling into bed. physical and mental exhaustion was clouding your brain.

aaron padded in a few seconds after you, quickly changing out of his work clothes and into soft sweatpants and a shirt. he stopped at the edge of the bed, eyes peering down at you.

“how are we doing this tonight?” he motioned toward the bed with his hand.

“can you just hold me?”

he smiled softly. “of course honey.”

aaron slid under the covers beside you. he raised one arm, an open invitation for you to curl up. you did, sliding over and tangling your legs with his. he, in turn, tucked you under his chin and brought his arms to cocoon around you.

“it’s gonna be okay, i promise.”

he sealed his words with a strong kiss to the crown of your head.

somehow you knew it would.

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner blurb

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drabblesaf · 2 years

Text

Movie Night Frustration - Steve Harrington Smut

REQUESTED: Nope. I haven’t written for quite a while, and I had a sudden inspiration strike last night (especially after S4 P1 dropped).

WARNINGS: Oral (both receiving), “sir” kink - MINORS DNI PLEASE

SUMMARY: You and Steve are on the night shift at the video store - you’re trying to do work and catch up on the week’s missed jobs, but Steve gets bored easily and needs something more than videos to entertain him.

NOTES: Uh, hey. So, I’m kind of back?

Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I’ve been really busy with uni for the past few years (in case you couldn’t tell from my utter lack of posting here) and now I’ve finished everything, I wanted to try and get back into my writing.

May be a bit rusty, so bare with me. I had inspo strike from the new season of Stranger Things, so here we are.

Hope you enjoy guys <3

Working the night shift at the Family Video Store was not how I originally planned on spending this evening. Sure, the pay was good for night shift, I couldn’t fault that. And any of the stock of candy we had left over was pretty much free rein until the next day’s batch came in - even more so once we hit the end of the week and needed to start clearing everything out. Those two things were no problem to me at all. The problem? Steve Harrington.

Steve had changed a lot since his time at Hawkins High. No longer a complete fucking asshat, he’d actually matured into a guy who gave somewhat of a shit. Shocking for the King of Hawkins to have such a redemption arc behind him. Maybe it was the fact he kept hanging out with the kids from sophomore year, Dustin, Mike and Lucas. Maybe it’s because my coworker Robin had actually knocked some sense into his pretty little head. Or maybe…just maybe, Steve was actually thinking seriously about his future and realising that he couldn’t be a dick forever.

Whatever it was, it still didn’t seem to occur to him that he could do his job without picking up chicks at the store - although maybe that was the same case for me too with guys. Somehow, Hawkins still had enough of a single male population that seemed to want to try their luck with the cute girls behind the movie counter, which always ended in Robin giving a heavy eyeroll and me gaining some dude’s home phone number or a reminder that they’d “pick me up at whatever time and we could go find a place to get away from it all”…which would almost always end in them wanting to go to Lovers Lake or Skull Rock, and Steve or Robin covering for me while I camped out in the staff room.

Surprisingly enough, this often worked quite well - I guess the boys were intimidated by my coworkers enough to eventually skulk out of the store, never to return again. This tactic didn’t work on the girls though, but then again, Harrington never seemed to have enough game to be able to woo them. Which is where he was stuck on this particular evening, moping as he stood next to the counter counting out the change in the register. “What’s got you so down in the dumps?” I said, staring at him from across one of the aisles, brush in hand.

“I’m losing my spark, Y/N. Losing my magic touch,” he sighed, idly playing with a cent in his hands.

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you seen the chicks that come in here? None of them are interested in me offering to take them to see the latest films in the cinema. Not a single one.”

“Have you tried just being yourself and not putting the charm offensive on all the time?” I asked, crouching down to remove the DVDs from the bottom shelf so they could get wiped down (those ones in particular always seemed to get some sort of sticky residue on them, and we could never quite explain why).

“Girls don’t like me “being myself”, (Y/N). Unless myself is King Steve, they don’t want to know me.”

“That’s not true, and you know it, Harrington,” I sighed, shaking my head as I carried the DVDs over to the desk, where he was now stood with his head in his hands. I reached over and ruffled his hair slightly, causing him to look up and give me a playful glare.

“Hey, leave the hair out of this,” he chuckled, poking his tongue out at me, before pausing and flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. He did this from time to time, but this time something felt…different. “(Y/N), what do you mean, I know it?” His brown eyes bore into my own, and I felt a shift, as if the world had just had a mass earthquake.

“You should be able to guess, Steve - you’re smart enough after all”, I said, voice wavering slightly. I wasn’t wrong, Steve was in fact very smart - after Nancy and him had split up, he actually put in a decent amount of effort to get his grades back up so he could get through sophomore year without too many issues, which - much to his surprise - he did very well, passing the year with 85% overall. And despite his general act as the King of Hawkins High, he could pick up on social cues well and did try to keep people around him who weren’t…douchebags, for lack of a better term.

He stared at me, raising an eyebrow, and I turned away quickly, busying myself with sweeping the dust off the (now free) bottom shelf. In a sense, there was definitely something that had shifted in the air between us, and it had been something I had been reckoning with for a while now. I’m not sure what it was, but there had definitely been moments between Steve and I that had left me questioning what his motives were every damn time. Did he want something to happen as much as I did?

The night wore on, and we were both beginning to get tired of doing all the chores that needed to be done over the night shift, especially closing up shop. We closed up early on the weekends, purely because most people were out partying or had already decided on what films they wanted for the evening - there wasn’t much chance of any late buyers coming in at the last minute unless it was Valentines Day. I occupied myself with finishing up rearranging the movies on the shelves, while Steve scribbled away in the notebook we had for accounting. “Hey, (Y/N), could you give me a hand? Just want to make sure I have everything accounted for in this, and that I did the math correctly,” he said, and I stood up from the final shelf, dusting my hands off on my jeans.

“Sure, I can do that. Final shelf is good to go, by the way,” I said, walking over to him. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I walked over, shedding my over-fleece that I wore as uniform (since the shop was closed now, there wasn’t much point in keeping it on). I chucked it under the till and pulled up a stool next to Steve, running over the numbers and trying to do quick calculations in my mind. All the while though, I could feel his presence right next to me, as if he was wanting to do or say something. After about 5 minutes of thinking over the sums, I nodded. “All clear, everything’s good to go,” I said, looking up at him. He swallowed slightly, his tongue flicking over his lips again as his eyes moved over my face.

The air got thicker all of a sudden, and it felt like something could happen any moment. “Uh, (Y/N), have you…” he started, and I paused, dropping the pencil to the table in front. He shook his head, mumbling a quick “Fuck it,” before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was needy, feverish - almost like it was something he depended on, like a lifeline. His lips and mine moved effortlessly against one another, tongues darting in and out and battling out in a war of dominance. His hands began roaming over my body, holding me steady on the stool as the exploration took place. This was a side I hadn’t expected from him, but I let it happen, moving my hands up to his hair as I did so.

His lips began moving down from mine to my jaw, trailing their way down to the collar of my shirt - this caused him to pause momentarily, both of us gasping for air as he looked at me, moving a hand up to caress my face gently. I nodded, giving him the permission he sought to take my shirt off, leaving me in my bra and jeans. He resumed his prior actions, lips trailing down my collarbone to one breast, then another. Each of them had kisses pressed to them, before the bra itself was gently pulled down and his lips attached themselves to each nipple, sucking and biting on each one and causing small whimpers to fall from my mouth.

This only seemed to spur him on, and made him suck each nipple more feverishly as if it was his lifeline. Soon after, he realised other areas needed attention too, and his kisses moved further and further down my body until they hovered just above the waistband of my jeans. He looked up at me, and I nodded. “Please, Steve,” I mumbled quietly, and he licked his lips again, turning his attention to the button on my jeans, which he popped open deftly before helping me shimmy the material off my hips.

He gave a few tentative kisses over my panties, causing some light moans to fall from my mouth, before that material was removed too and nothing was in the way of his tongue. He kissed the area lightly, before licking at it, causing my hips to raise up sharply to meet his mouth, and my hand to fall into his hair. Every single action he made had my body feeling like it was on fire, and very quickly I could feel myself reaching the high I was craving. He was licking and sucking at the area as if it was his entire life force, and it was very quickly getting me to where I needed to be. “Steve, fuck!” I whimpered, my hands tugging at his hair as he moved quicker, bringing a finger into play as well and curling it up right where I needed it. That was enough to bring me over the edge, causing me to scream and gasp as I met the high he’d been trying to elicit from me for so long. He kept lapping at my arousal as wave after wave of pleasure ran through my body, causing me to tremble at every slight touch he created.

After a while I calmed down enough and the room stabilised for a short while, for me to begin to realise that Steve was unbuckling his belt and beginning to remove his jeans. Shakily, I stood up, placing my hands over his and hoping he understood that I wanted to help him. He looked at me as I did this, and said quietly, “You don’t have to, y’know.”

“I want to.” He thought about this for a second and then nodded, allowing me access to the button on his jeans completely. I carefully popped it open, taking my time with the zipper - I wanted to at least try to savour this moment before it went away and we were forced into that pit of realisation of what we were doing with each other. He sighed slightly, bucking his hips up as I pulled his jeans down, looking face to face at his hard-on restrained by his boxers. It was straining to be let out against the cotton, and I could only oblige, causing a hiss to fall from his lips as he was exposed to the air of the store.

I expected him to be packing down there - he was “The King” of Hawkins High, after all - but I didn’t expect him to be bigger than I thought. I cautiously grasped at his cock, causing him to let out a jagged moan and his hand to fall over mine. “Fucking hell, (Y/N). Do you know how much I’ve imagined this scenario?” He grunted, helping to move my hand along his length.

“No, but I could probably guess,” I snarked back, before diverting my attention back to the matter in hand…quite literally. Tentatively, I poked my tongue out and licked a stripe up one of the protruding veins on his member, causing him to groan loudly, the noise only encouraging me further. I licked a few more times before turning my attention to his head, eliciting a louder moan from his lips, followed by several curses.

“Fuck, so pretty…you’re doing so good sweetheart,” he sighed, hand falling away from mine and slowly coming back up to push my hair out my face, causing me to look up at him as he did so. His lips were slightly parted, and he was looking down at me through his eyelashes, eyes flickering as I looked up with his cock in my mouth. “Shit…so good, fuck. You’re killing me, doll.”

This was the only motivation I needed to keep on with what I was doing, and so I took him further into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down vigorously. It was difficult to keep this up for too long at a time though, purely because he was so damn big - but Steve seemed fine with anything I did as long as I was giving his dick enough attention. Soon, he began to twitch slightly in my mouth, his moans getting louder and his breathing quickening, to which he quickly pulled me off of him with a satisfying pop! He stood up over me kneeling on the floor, jerking his cock vigorously. “Where do you want it angel? Want me to cum in your mouth like the good slut you are? Say it, come on. Tell me, baby.”

“Please cum in my mouth, I’ll take it all in,” I whined - this act alone only served to encourage Steve further.

“Want you to beg for it properly,” he muttered under his breath, and it took a moment before the gears finally clicked in my head.

“Please, Sir. I want to swallow your cum like the good princess I am for you,” I moaned, feeling myself begin to dampen again. This seemed to work, as barely a minute later the man above me was moaning loudly himself as he reached his own climax, the hot spurts of cum streaming down my throat. As soon as he had finished, I swallowed, opening my mouth to show him that nothing remained in there.

We took a moment to both catch our breath from the experience, and he was the first one to speak. “I think I’ve got my magic touch back, but do you wanna test that theory back at my place?”

“You’re on, Harrington.”

“Hey, that’s Sir to you, princess.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #joe keery #joe keery imagine #joe keery smut

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mattodore · 10 days

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hallo river :D idk which blog of urs to send this to (since it has main and personal blog elements), so I'm just going for ur main- Thank you for managing to be one of my biggest inspos on not just simblr, but overall as like,,, a person??? idk how to word it 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️

I've said a lot of what I want to say already in my love train and biggest inspo posts, but I js wanna say that ur genuine passion for your ocs AND for media (movies and writing and stuff) has been incredibly infectious for me, in a good way of course. Pretty much since I started following you, I've had your main blogs post notifs on cuz I love seeing the quotes and other things that u reblog that relate to Theo and Matthias, and since following you, I've also, of course, found your side blog, which has opened a whole new can of worms for me, your reblogs about The Passenger got me to watch the movie and this movie has singlehandedly re-sparked a kind of hyperfixation that I haven't experienced in a LONG time (if u wanna exclude ocs), and NOW I have your side blogs notifs on cuz. yk. I love ur posts and reblogs ADKSKDK. I've currently got Tom at the Farm (and plenty of other movies you've posted abt) on my to-watch list (putting off TatF cuz im a little squeamish with wounds at times🧍‍♂️🤧). I've also started to look at and analyze deeper into stuff, specifically since finding your blogs and after seeing just how deep-in-the-guts The Passenger fans get LMAO- Your blogs have inspired me in wayyy too many ways at this point and im starting to feel like i need to put "fyi: this blog is heavily inspired by mattodore" somewhere on my blog AISJAKSKS (jk ofc)- I kinda feel like I'm repeating myself at this point,, but I just wanted to let you know cuz I have a lot of appreciation for you, your blogs and whatever you post.

If you have 1000 fans, I'm one of them, if u have 100, I'm one of them, if you have 1, IM that one, and if u have 0, I died 🤷‍♂️ anyways this turned into a slight ramble but again, thank you man, ur like,,,, kinda cool or wtv 🫵🫶 (also saw ur comments abt joining the server and just know I WILL join,,, later after I've slept LMAO)

WELL... my body found dead in a ditch. thank you... both for being so kind and for telling me all this bc i do love validation lmfao. like you're super sweet and that bit about how passionate i am... like that's. ugh. kind of everything to me. so thank you.

anyway now to talk about the passenger 😁 UGHHHHH i'm so glad you watched it!!! i've been losing my mind every day for the last two months over it so YEAH. love that. i've ALSO not been this obsessed with something in such a long time. it feels good to really get my hands dirty in fandom again, like, it's such a fun outlet. i'm this 🤏close to writing fic again but i'm holding off through sheer force of will. also have definitely been reading your tags when you reblog posts from me and add more commentary about things you noticed!! jerma image let's take the passenger media analysis together

TOM AT THE FARM. I'VE BEEN GOING BATTY WANTING TO TALK ABOUT TOM AT THE FARM. TOM!! MY BEST FRIEND TOM!! i would ABSOLUTELY be willing to take timestamps of any scene where there are wounds on display if you want, like... a safety guide? that you can skip around? or just so you're aware of what you're about to see. lmk! literally would love the excuse to rewatch it again. i don't think that any of the wounds in it are that graphic imo... but there's some blood that gets on tom's arms/hands from a calf being born and i think maybe if you saw it without context that could have looked really gnarly. idk what your baseline for okay vs. yuck! is wrt wounds though, so. lmk!

also join the server 🫵 i'm recruiting you come be online with me

#river dipping #asks #youredreamingofroo #keep #also unrelated but i just remembered that poll you reblogged from my sideblog the other day and ! i meant to say then but forgot #i'm not the kind of person who cares if someone reblogs or likes a bunch of things like feel free to go through my entire passenger tag #and reblog all the gifsets and stuff like idc!! i don't have push notifs on so i'm not bothered by it at all #ik when i got into the passenger i went through someone's entire blog like. without a single care lmfaooo. go crazy if you wanna

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