#i have... so many thoughts about this movie...

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

#just been having steddie post season 4 thoughts #been missing the era of the fandom just sort of starting during that time between vol 1 and 2 #how every fic had their own little way of resolving the upside down/vecna problem just written into afew small paragraphs #really just getting to know these characters as a pairing #most importantly before seeing them as a couple #seeing them as friends #how they would genuinely interact and get along #what their dynamics would look like #steddie early days truly have my whole entire heart #coming onto tumblr the weeks following vol1 of s4 was magical #anywho yeah non vol2 compliant steddie for you #more so just #eddie didn’t die steddie for you #they become friends bc truly i actually believe that had he lived they would have #it just makes sense #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #robin buckley #dustin henderson #also lmk if i should keep adding to this…might abyways bc i’m enjoying this #steddie fic #steddie fic idea #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction

[writer-freak]

Stealing his shirt | Lucifer x reader

Summary: You and Lucifer planned a day to just relax together but he had to leave spontaneously. When he came back he saw that you stole one of his shirts, and he likes seeing you in it.

Warnings: Fluff, some suggestiveness at the end, reader wears one of Lucifers shirts, but it's not explicitly described how it fits reader, Lucifer just loving you, English isn't my first language

A/n: I really noticed now how terrible I am at coming up with titles for my fics. But yeah I wanted to just write a little scenario about stealing his shirt but somehow I ended up with this. Hope you guys enjoy.

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

You and Lucifer had planned a rare relaxation day, just the two of you, away from everything else going on around you. Snacks were scattered on the coffee table, a mix of both your and Lucifer's favorites as you lounged comfortably on the couch.

"I must say, darling, your taste in snacks is great but I still think mine is superior." Lucifer remarked with a grin, popping a piece of candy into his mouth as he leaned back against the cushions, his arm draped around your shoulders casually.

You chuckled while leaned into Lucifer's side. "Well, I believe I have a knack for picking the best, but now I have a feeling I made a mistake."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, is that so? Should I be worried about my standing in your 'best picks' list?" he teased back, a smirk forming on his lips as he pretended to look concerned.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Oh, you're still in the top rankings, don't worry. But I think your pride is knocking you down a few pegs," you replied, poking fun at his ego light-heartedly.

You tried getting up, wanting to tease him a little further, but you weren't able to get far.

"Oh no, you are not leaving," Lucifer said, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down onto his lap. You tried freeing yourself but Lucifer tightened his arms around you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, trying to escape my impeccable charm already, are we?" he quipped, pretending to be offended as he held you firmly in place.

"Let me go, Lu!" you protested, laughing as he started to tickle you.

"You are not escaping me, my love," Lucifer teased, his fingers tickling along your sides until you finally tapped out. "Okay okay, I give up, you win!" you said, breathless from laughter as Lucifer grinned triumphantly.

You tried catching your breath before, you settled back down next to Lucifer. Just as he reached for the remote, his phone buzzed with an incoming call, interrupting you two.

Lucifer glanced at the screen with a slight frown. "It's probably just some mundane matter," he muttered, moving to decline the call.

Raising an eyebrow, you suggested "You should at least check Lu, it might be important."

With a reluctant sigh, Lucifer nodded and took the call, his expression shifting from annoyance to seriousness as he listened.

"I understand. I'll be there shortly," Lucifer said before ending the call. Turning to you, he offered an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry love, duty calls."

You smiled back, while trying to mask your disappointment. "It's alright, Lucifer. I know you have many responsibilities."

Lucifer leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I promise to be back as soon as possible. You can stay here in the meantime if you want?" he suggested.

You nodded, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just going to watch a movie without you," you replied.

Lucifer smiled at you before changing out of his comfortable clothes and leaving the suite.

With a sigh, you leaned your head back against Lucifer's giant couch, a bit disappointed that your boyfriend had to leave. Not knowing what to do with yourself, you thought about what you could do in the meantime to keep yourself busy. 

You wanted to take a shower later today, but since you have some time on your hands, you could just do it right now.

You didn't have a change of clothes but that didn't really bother you as you walked into Lucifer's bedroom to go into the connecting bathroom, but your eyes drifted and landed on the wardrobe.

Your curiosity was piqued, and you walked over and began browsing through his clothes. You have borrowed one of Lucifer's shirts before when you slept over, but you never really looked through all his clothing. He has a lot of ducky motive items and eventually, you choose one of the more casual shirts that he wears at home with a little duck on it.

With some new clothes, you went into the shower, relaxing and killing some time until Lucifer's back. When you got out you dried yourself off and slipped into the shirt, you couldn't help but take in its familiar scent, which comforted you as you went back to lounge in his suite. You flipped through some channels until you finally found something watchable, and then the door opened, announcing Lucifer's return.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lucifer's tone was playful, a smirk on his lips as he took in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

You sat up, looking over at Lucifer with a smile. "Oh, Lucifer! I didn't expect you to be back so early," you said casually, not acknowledging that you had taken one of his shirts.

Lucifer chuckled, crossing the room to stand before you. "I must say, you have excellent taste," he remarked, his gaze lingering on your new top.

You couldn't help but smile innocently at him. "It's quite comfy," you admitted, tugging at the shirt for emphasis.

"Comfy and charming," Lucifer added, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I might have to start giving you my shirts more often."

After changing into more comfortable clothes, Lucifer returned to the couch, plopping down next to you. "I think you look better in them than me I have to admit, maybe you should always wear them." he teased, his tone a bit suggestive.

You chuckled softly. "Oh, is that an invitation, Lucifer? Because I definitely wouldn't mind having a collection of your shirts," you teased back, leaning against the couch cushions with a playful expression.

Lucifer's smirk widened, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made your heart race a bit faster. "Consider this one a reward for having such impeccable taste." he purred, his voice low and seductive.

A playful glint danced in your eyes as you raised an eyebrow. "And what would I have to do to earn more of these rewards Lucifer?" you asked teasingly, with a hint of seductiveness.

Leaning in closer, Lucifer's voice dropped to a husky whisper, his breath brushing against your skin. "Oh, Wearing my clothes is a start but, there are many more ways to earn rewards, my dear." he suggested his eyes wandering up and down your body.

You couldn't deny that heat rose to your face at his words, before a smirk of your own formed. "Well then, I'll have to keep that in mind for the future," you replied, your voice a playful challenge as you just settled back down next to him. You took the remote and turned the TV back on before turning to Lucifer as nonchalantly as you could. "So what do you want to watch?" 

Lucifer also leaned back slightly, his gaze still intense as he locked eyes with you. "I'm fine with anything, you know that, my love. But I don't think I feel like watching TV at the moment," he murmured, a suggestive smile playing on his lips.

You tried playing a bit dumb, not wanting to let him win just yet. "Oh, why is that? I thought you just wanted to relax together today?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

Lucifer's smirk deepened as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "I must admit, darling, your comments earlier have left me a bit distracted," he confessed, his gaze lingering on your lips suggestively.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a playful challenge in your eyes. "Oh, is that so? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you," you replied a hint of mischief in your tone.

Lucifer's hand brushed against your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You always have that effect on me, my dear. It's one of the many things I adore about you," he admitted, his voice laced with sincerity and desire.

Unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you pulled back, a content smile graced your lips. "In that case, I think I can find other ways to keep you entertained," you teased, your voice low and sultry.

Lucifer's eyes glimmered with amusement and desire. "I have no doubt about that, my love."

Divider 1 by: @rubra-wav Divider 2 by: @saradika-graphics

#gn reader #x reader #gender neutral #fluff #Lucifer #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer x reader #Hazbin Hotel fluff #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #Hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #gender neutral reader #Hazbin x #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #fanfic #lucifer fluff #fanfiction #hazbin hotel #Hazbin fluff #Hazbin hotel #suggestive #Hazbin imagine #Hazbin fic #Lucifer fic

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congratulations on 1k! It's impressive how many different genres your AUs have covered with such fun stories

For the ficletbuild a prompt game, perhaps F "Where's your sense of adventure?" + 🧜‍♂️Just add water? Vibes and item are dealers choice :)

Thank you so much, I love trying new things and exploring different universes and themes. Hope you like what I've come up with, I've been wanting to write this for a while. 🧜‍♂️❤️

Night swimming

Rated: T

Words: 1,000

Tags: Established relationship; mer!Steve Harrington; sexually explicit language; nudity

Notes: Bonus drabble to Just add water

“Okay, not to sound ungrateful,” Eddie mutters, huddling deeper into his flannel. Summer is well and truly over and the nights are getting chilly, especially out here on the water. “I appreciate this whole three-month anniversary surprise date, I really do. But couldn’t you have gone for dinner and a movie perhaps?”

“Nah,” Steve smiles. He stops rowing, pulling the oars into the boat and leaving them floating on the surface of the moonlit lake. “It had to be here. This is where I fell for you, where we first kissed. First made love. C’mon, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Back at the shore, probably.” Eddie pretends to shiver, even though his face has gone hot at Steve’s casual mention of their first time. “Where all of that stuff actually happened, by the way, so I still don’t get why you needed to row us out here. Now where’s that surprise you promised me?”

“Patience,” Steve scolds, leaning closer on the rickety bench so that he can press a kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I'm getting there.”

Then, without further preamble, he starts stripping.

“What the-” Eddie blurts as Steve’s sweater hits him in the face. “No way, forget it. We're not fucking in the middle of the-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, who said anything about fucking?” Steve rolls his eyes, shrugging out of his jeans and underpants. “We’re going for a swim.”

And then, before Eddie has a chance to stop him, he dives headfirst into the dark lake. Eddie yelps and clenches his eyes shut as the boat rocks. When he opens them, Steve is just emerging again. He laughs and shakes the water from his hair, happy like a fish in the water, which … okay, yeah. That's actually an apt comparison, considering the giant, glistening tail and the fucking fins that have taken the place of his legs.

You'd think that after three months, a guy would get used to his boyfriend being a real-life mermaid. No such luck, apparently, because Eddie still finds himself as dumbstruck as the first time as Steve swims closer and casually rests his arms on the edge of the boat. The patch of scales on his temples shimmers in the pale light.

“Not coming in?”

Eddie grins, trying to ignore the way his heart hammers against his ribcage.

“Nuh-uh, fish boy. Don't wanna freeze to death. You have fun, I'll take care of the food.”

He has just bent over to retrieve the huge picnic basket from the hull of the boat when Steve says, “Oh, you thought that was for you?”

Eddie whips his head up, mouth already open around a question- … which turns into a garbled half-scream when he sees what has appeared beside Steve.

A gleaming pair of eyes, each roughly the size of a saucer.

Eddie blinks. The eyes blink back. There's two pairs of lids on each, the inner one a thin, translucent membrane.

“She's been dying to meet you,” Steve smiles. “Say hi?”

“Hrrrrrrgh,” Eddie says.

The creature makes a sound - a long, high-pitched trill. Steve chimes in with a laugh of his own, and wait, do they think this is funny?

Steve sees the scowl on his face and tilts his head. “C’mon, Eds, don't be like that. You've seen her before.”

“Yeah, from a distance,” Eddie squeaks, finally finding his voice again. “Not like this. Jeez, warn a guy! What happened to meeting the family first?”

The creature makes an affronted sound and Steve pets her large, arrow-shaped head.

“Of course you are family, he's just a bit confused,” he tells her. She grumbles and he turns to Eddie with a chuckle. “Uh-oh, you'd better apologize.”

Eddie stares. Steve’s eyes flick down to the picnic basket.

“Ugh, alright,” Eddie mutters. He reaches down to flip the lid open, steeling himself for the sight of slimy fish heads, only to be met with… “Fruit? She eats fruit?”

Steve shrugs. “She's an ombi- … obvy- … she eats everything, really. Oh, give her the watermelon, she loves those.”

Eddie obeys, because why wouldn't he? If your mermaid boyfriend tells you to feed the friendly lake monster a watermelon, you feed the lake monster the goddamn watermelon. It's only logical.

The melon is about as large as his head. He lifts it, and a long neck comes curling out of the water, until those eerie eyes are level with his - and then higher still, so he's looking up at them. It's a weird feeling, being face to face with this creature who's so much older than him - older than the lake itself, maybe - holding out the fruit to her like an offering. Awe, he realizes. He's feeling awed in the truest and most original sense of the word.

And then she bends down and plucks the melon from his hands. Something crunches and Eddie shrieks in surprise and disgust as a shower of juice and seeds descends on him. The creature swallows, blinks her glowing, double-lidded eyes at him one last time, and then she's gone, slipping back under the surface of the lake with barely a ripple.

“Huh,” Eddie exhales a shaky laugh. “That went pretty-”

The world tilts.

His scream turns into a wet gargle as he hits the water, but Steve has him under the arms and is pulling him up to straddle his tail before he can go under. He sees Eddie’s shocked face and laughs, gently combing dark strands soaked in lake water and melon juice out of his face.

“That went fantastically,” he says, grin wide and brilliant and incredibly proud. It makes Eddie’s heart kick in his chest, just a little. “She really likes you!”

Eddie spits out a mouthful of water.

“What, really? Is it just her or do all of your family members have such an odd way of showing it?”

Steve hums, a bit nervously perhaps, and pulls Eddie's shivering body closer to his chest.

“Well, wait until you meet my mom.”

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #1k followers #Hype's 1k follower ficlets

[bluerthanvelvet444]

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)

tags: sfw and nsfw.

warnings: none.

character count: 7k.

this was a request!

ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡⁀➷

He LOVES playing games with you.

Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.

He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.

His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.

“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.

“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.

“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.

“Who said I paid for it?”

He takes you anywhere you want.

You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.

You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.

In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.

He always matches your mood.

If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.

If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.

If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.

He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.

You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.

“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.

“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.

“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.

“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.

“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.

“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.

“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.

He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.

His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.

“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.

“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”

“Oh.”

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

He’s horny 24/7.

Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.

You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.

“I barely touched you…” You teased.

“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.

He’s such a switch.

You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.

“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.

“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.

He’s open to all types of sex with you.

Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.

Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.

Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.

Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.

No toys!

One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?

He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.

Quickies in public are more common than you think.

With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.

“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.

“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.

He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.

“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind

a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶

all rights reserved!!

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #x men #x men apocalypse #quicksilver #evan peters #american horror story #tate langdon #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #kyle spencer #violet harmon #james patrick march #kai anderson #taissa farmiga #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs coven

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

The backlash against Frozen, which, from my observation, has cooled down (that isn't a joke, I swear-) quite a bit over the past few years, was less based on the quality of the movie itself and more on the fact that its massive success and reach really overshadowed a lot of other movies that came out prior to it and after it and was getting credited for stuff that had already been done before plenty of times, and in many cases, in those exact movies. This is why, to this day, many fans STILL refuse to give Tangled its props without trying to put Frozen down in some way. In their eyes, Tangled should have gotten the glory and accolades Frozen received, but did not, and that made them quite jealous. Overall, Frozen is far from a bad movie. It's a great movie with a great message, characters, music and does actually deserve the success and recognition it got, and some fans need to stop being so salty about it and uplift their fav movies without putting Frozen down so they get the proper appreciation they deserve as well. Although, yes, the credit this movie got for allegedly introducing themes, archetypes and tropes that had already been seen before in Disney, including movies set in a fairytale world with heroines as the protags, was undoubtedly the most annoying part about its success and is part of the reason why many tried to drag this movie and its main leads.

#disney #frozen #txt #ngl i was part of the hate train for a long time too #not as much as others tho but still i was one of these people who thought frozen was overrated af #but now i realized i was kinda full of it for that opinion #when i saw it the first time the major gripe i had with how many songs it had #but now i'm actually fine with that #idk my stance on this movie had always been a weird one #i have always contradicted myself when it came to this movie #until recently when i've finally begun to embrace it #i have always liked it and not liked it? idk. it's been weird #i do want to see thiw franchise get expanded but i'd prefer a tv series #and i think frozen ii needs a retcon ngl that movie was a whole shitshow writing wise #and the message was not as impactful i'm sorry but it's in line with the typical “the power is actually in me” bullshit #it's some selfish nonsense and is against the main theme of almost every disney movie #which is about how your dreams will come true if you have faith AND do for others. something even better will happen or you will want #something else entirely #it's about selflessness love and sacrifice whether it's romantic platonic familiar or even related to the community as a whole #but anyways that's an entirely different point #so yeah frozen isn't a terrible movie you guys. i think the anger is misplaced

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

Dark Moon | Chapter Fifteen - The End

Pairing | yandere!Jimin x Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | +18, yandere themes, wedding, Stockholm syndrome, murder, smut, messy bathroom sex, fingering, blowjob, teasing, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, body worship and kissing, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.

And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.

That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.

He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys ❤️

This is the last chapter of Dark Moon, a story that I wrote in a period that was not easy for me, in fact the dark tones come from the negative emotions that pushed me to write this story to test myself with this genre, so I really hope you enjoyed Dark Moon, I would be happy to receive comments about it ❤️

As for possible extras, who knows, maybe they will come just like what happened with Happy Ending 😉

Also, it was really nice to be able to talk with you! Thanks for all the love and support, see you with the next story I am already writing 🤧

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @dragons-flare, @m00njinnie, @seokjins-luigi, @pjmsneverland, @jimincrystal, @ajkwww, @ungodlyjoon , @hecateslittlewitchling , @namjoonsbuspass , @darkuni63 , @xicanacorpse , @jiminismine4ever , @btssimpjaneth , @antisocial-mochi267 , @reallygenerouskoala , @velvet-stardust2002 , @angelicsmilesworld

Chapter List - Previous - The End

"Where is Y/N?" asked Taehyung, receiving a glare from Jimin.

"Stop it, Taehyung, she's afraid of him, and I'm certainly not going to force her to attend because you think it will help with her trauma," hissed Jimin, looking around.

He had let Y/N fall asleep in his arms before silently leaving the apartment to finish her uncle's execution.

Taehyung wished she was there, he argued that seeing her own nightmare die would help her heal faster, Jimin on the other hand was convinced of the exact opposite, she had run away from the bastard, dead or alive she never wanted to see him again, that was the gist.

"It was just an idea..." put the other's hands forward.

"Jimin, everything is ready" Hoseok warned him electrified, it had been a long time since they had proceeded with a real execution and this was the time to enjoy another one.

The boy nodded as he continued down the dark corridors of their base with the others, the room they were holding the man in was a cell like any other, it was only the way they were torturing him that differentiated the prisoner from the others.

Mikkel was bound hand and foot by a thick rope, which went to twist around his neck with a noose still wide enough not to suffocate him completely.

He stared at everyone with spirited eyes, and Jimin noted how disgusting and repulsive the man looked more like an ugly gray rat.

"You have the wrong man, I'm just a loan shark, the Kims would never say anything important to me," he licked his lips nervously, he had a horrible accent.

Jimin walked around him, his shiny black shoes made a sinister ticking sound.

Heel, toe.

Heel, toe.

He stopped in front of him again, bending at the knees.

"The Kims are our allies, we don't need to know shit about them," he said squaring him with disgust, "And we certainly wouldn't use shit like you for our own purposes."

Mikkel looked around agitatedly, Jungkook rocked back on his own feet, smiling cheekily at the man.

"Then why am I here?"

Jimin's eyes thinned, "Let's clean up, Mik," he said making the man fidget, "Does the name Y/N mean anything to you?"

Surprise and panic soon won out and he began to struggle, unaware of the damage he was doing to himself, the more he moved the tighter the noose around his neck tightened.

"You thought you were getting off scot-free by abusing a little girl who was part of your own family, threatening her parents and then making the poor mother look like a fool," Jimin began, approaching until he could read every distorted thought in the man's increasingly swollen eyes, "You took advantage of their miserable financial status and threatened to throw them out on the street if they talked, even naming certain acquaintances, who didn't like the publicity you gave, so... one way or another you're dead anyway," he growled, grabbing the knot and pulling to speed up the choking.

Mikkel coughed airlessly, tried to wriggle and escape Jimin's death grip, but to no avail, the more he moved, the more he urged Jimin not to let go.

"That's nothing compared to what you put Y/N through, you son of a bitch," he shouted, throwing a punch at the man now with no more air in his lungs, blood began to come out of his nose as his body was invaded by jerks and survival impulses, he cried out mute for mercy, but the boy's eyes remained stone.

Jimin backed away retrieving his gun, but when he pointed it at the monster he had second thoughts, with one bullet he would have died too quickly, so he just watched along with the others as he suffocated in the ropes and his own blood, in the last moments when Mikkel looked desperately at Jimin once again, the latter smiled.

"Y/N, my wife, sends her regards and wishes you to burn in hell," he greeted him amusedly, emphasizing how Y/N was now simply his.

When they saw the eyes turn glassy, with no more life behind them, Hoseok huffed.

"That was too fast," Jungkook commented, pulling out his own gun and unloading it on the body to make sure he was really dead.

"He's dead, that's all that matters," said Seokjin who had been merely observing in silence, "Get rid of the corpse cleanly, I don't want any surprises," he ordered, but everyone's attention was on Jimin.

"Wife?" asked Taehyung with a smile.

"He actually said wife, this jerk decided to settle his head," laughed Namjoon, interrupted by Yoongi who also laughed.

"No, that little head will always be crazy."

"So you're getting married with a celebration?" asked Jungkook, joining the confused chorus of questions and jokes.

"My guess is he's already signed papers, he seemed overconfident," reasoned Hoseok, both Jin and Jimin were getting nervous.

"Listen, you-!"

"When and how they get married is Jimin's and Y/N's business, as for us, we must realize that there is a new family member to protect," he clapped his hands vigorously, "Now, get rid of the body," he repeated.

Jimin nodded in Jin's direction in thanks, then turned to Jungkook, "Make sure that not even the bones can lie on this earth, you understand what I mean, right?"

Of course it was clear, the seriousness and awareness of having to do one's duty well had returned to the room.

The ceremony had been small and for a few friends, Jimin did not like to show off, and Y/N could not bear to see unfamiliar and dangerous faces staring back at her.

The wedding dress, on the contrary, was wonderful.

It wrapped the girl's figure gracefully, her shoulders were uncovered thanks to the bodice's boat neckline, which was white with light blue highlights and had many small flowers woven along the neckline and hips, it then continued with a long skirt made of silk and fluffy tulle, with her hair made slightly wavy and scattered loosely on her back and the thin, shiny tiara placed on her head, everyone had agreed that she was an adorable and pure fairy.

Jimin, for his part, in his sleek, total-black smoking with crystals sprinkled across his chest and shoulders, had never taken his eyes off her, like a hawk aiming at its seductive prey. There was a change in him too, his hair had been dyed blond, for Y/N had been like seeing a fallen angel waiting for her at the altar, she had smiled shyly at him arm in arm with Seokjin.

It had been frightening to meet him again initially, but in time she had realized that if taken gently, Jin was by no means evil and had always been very calm and gentle with her.

Now she was there, joining her hand with Jimin's, and emotion invaded her.

She paid no attention to the priest's words, the ritual they were performing was being handed down in the Bangtan band, it was the man who had to do everything, the bride simply had to say,

"Yes, I do."

It had been so easy to say it, no hesitation, no flash of fear, she looked at Jimin through the foolish eyes of love, he lowered himself onto her who discovered she was swept up in a fiery and electrifying cloud, when their lips touched Jimin held back no longer, he held her by the waist and pulled her into a deep and dead-end kiss, he was possessive and passionate and sought her out every time she tried to catch a breath.

The few guests applauded, giggling at the fierce hunger of the blond, who let her go only to gaze contentedly at those swollen, scarlet lips of kisses.

But it was not his intention to stop there.

They accepted the congratulations of the Bangtans and some of their relatives, Y/N met Taehyung's mother and father and found them a delightful couple, almost unable to believe it when the father said with some pride that he too had been a Bangtan before his son.

In contrast, there was no sign of Jimin's parents, probably not even knowing that their son was alive.... From what Jimin had confessed to her one night, his mother was a street prostitute and his father was a singer who toured the world, Jimin had been born by mistake.

Y/N had immediately rebuked him, he was not a mistake, he was her complex and sweet boyfriend, although he had not been a saint at first, now he was showing her that he was a caring partner and madly in love. Perhaps even too madly.

"Anyway, my husband and I wish you well and happy life together," trilled the woman, gently pinching the cheeks of the girl, who blushed under such motherly attention; now she understood why Taehyung was the most affectionate of his friends, he had not grown up with terrible parents.

"Treat her well, Jimin... it's not easy to find someone who understands and accepts our kind of life," he tapped the young man's shoulder with a hand that was anything but playful, despite the boxy smile his son had inherited.

"Oh, I'll treat her like a queen," he smiled sweetly, but Y/N saw the shadow of something more evil, something that manifested itself exactly forty minutes later, when everyone was now occupied with the banquet.

"W-We'll have to wait," stammered the girl, trembling under the velvety kisses the young man was leaving all along the portion of skin the cleavage had left, free to be cuddled and adored by him, "If you leave me marks they will show!"

Jimin laughed on her neck, "I won't leave you any marks, I just want to have a taste," he promised, licking down to the cleft between her breasts with his erection pressing into his pants.

He cast a glance at the girl and let out an approving cry, he had taken her in his arms making her sit on the sink, her back was resting against the large mirror behind her and her legs were held open, with the skirt pulled up over her hips and the white fishnet stockings on display, all for him and she was so sexy in his eyes...

"You've already had a taste this morning!" hissed Y/N, glancing occasionally at the bathroom door.

Jimin returned to leave moist trails of kisses on her chest, suddenly lowering her bodice and noticing to his pleasure that she was totally naked, Y/N gasped praying that nothing had been torn off, cast a reproachful glance at the man, melting away soon after, however.

Jimin's condition was no better, his once perfectly coiffed hair was now messy and scattered across his forehead, his tuxedo jacket had been tossed into some corner of the bathroom, and his dark, gleaming shirt had been opened by almost every button, which made her quietly admire the invitingly toned appearance of his abdomen, cased with deep attractive and manly lines, with her hand she followed one, entranced, to his waistband where a more than obvious bulge made her throat tighten.

Jimin licked his swollen lips stained with her lipstick, "I can't go back that way."

"No, you can't," murmured Y/N as she got off the shelf and knelt in front of him, who inhaled in eagerness to touch her.

She took off his leather belt and lowered the zipper of his smartly cut pants, watching raptly as his cock pushed against his boxers, there was already a wet spot staining the fabric, and she licked gently there, already finding the taste she now knew by heart and could no longer do without, Jimin clenched his fingers around the edge of the sink until his knuckles turned white, with a small smile the girl also freed him of his men's underwear and finally took the swollen, heavy shaft into her mouth, standing still for a few moments, trying to get used to that girth once again.

"Fuck," breathed Jimin tremblingly, his balls clenched as he registered the image he was experiencing, "Oh, fuck, you're sucking me off in a wedding dress," he cursed, risking coming immediately, Y/N closed her eyes and holding her breath swallowed a few more inches until her nose brushed against the man's pubis and she felt her throat fill with his cock, she slid over the entire length again, licking insistently the sensitive frenulum area, her intimacy was on fire when she noticed the tremor in her husband's legs, giving him pleasure gave her pleasure, it was a sensation she had never experienced with anyone else. It made her feel powerful and weak at the same time.

Jimin moved his pelvis against her mouth, each discharge was a violent lash that he needed, the tone of his voice rose, and, they were both sure, if anyone passed by the bathroom door, they would hear a man enjoying thanks to a dreamy blowjob.

"Y/N, stop," he ordered in a guttural voice, but the woman sucked harder on his entire length, letting her saliva slowly slide all over his cock to make the job easier, in response Jimin grabbed her head, giving one last thrust that made her choke for a few seconds before releasing her completely, "Get up," he hissed, his taut and vibrating cock was already on the verge of releasing his cum.

The girl licked her lips with a sly smile, pleased that she had reduced Park Jimin to a quivering little thing, as if grappling with his first blowjob, but Jimin was not of the same opinion.

"You little bitch."

He made her turn, bending her over the sink and raising her glitzy skirt over her hips again, that position was the same as that night before everything went to hell, but she didn't feel the suffocating anxiety of the first few times, with time she had realized that Jimin would never hurt her again, and now she quivered every time she found herself bent over with Jimin behind her, watching her desire-laden body.

The blond man pulled her panties of the same color as her fishnet stockings, felt her intimacy with two fingers to see how wet it was and found it deliciously soaked and quivering, he hummed with satisfaction at that result and penetrated her lightly, Y/N opened her mouth sighing, her belly contracted recognizing that pleasurable stretch between her yielding flesh.

Jimin removed his fingers now soaked with her wetness and used them to gently caress her swollen, sensitive clitoris as he penetrated her all the way down, slowly sliding his cock into her who more than welcomed it, Y/N's head dangled forward as she responded to Jimin's rhythmic thrusts with hushed, choked moans, the fingers around her rosy bud amplified the sensations of the cock pinning her down in that bathroom, where everyone could have found out in a very few seconds what was going on.

"Oh God ... oh God ...!" she exclaimed unable to say anything else, Jimin went deeper with a sometimes desperate cry.

"My wife," he sighed in her ear, bending entirely over her with his hips clicking faster and rougher, "I'm fucking my wife," he gasped causing her walls to clench as they flickered in mad pleasure, with wide, glazed eyes she listened to Jimin repeat those words, she loved hearing him say them, her heart was swollen with love and pride, now no one would dare to hurt her, ever again.

The blond lifted her up against his chest, fixing his eyes straight into hers through the mirror that gave a sinful image of their bodies joining sensually, he held her tight like that as he intensified the rhythm of his thrusts, by now sinking into that slippery heat breathlessly, his hand worked under her skirt faster, Y/N moaned seeking his lips, Jimin also penetrated with his tongue into the young woman's mouth, pinching a florid nipple as a provocation.

It worked, with a shrill scream between their joined mouths Y/N came violently, clutching his cock that discharged moments later in her belly between thick boiling filaments, they continued to move in unison until the pleasure turned totally to discomfort due to overstimulation.

They sighed exhaustedly, but without moving.

"I told you not to leave marks on me, but you did worse," she laughed wordlessly, observing his devastated state, not that Jimin was any better off.

He kissed her neck gently, leaving her, who groaned annoyed at the loss.

"We have a valid excuse now."

"What excuse?"

"Well..." he helped her up her bodice by lacing it from behind, shooting her a mischievous look, "To get out of here without anyone noticing and finish in our room what we started."

Y/N widened her eyes, "We can't! They came here for us and then I'm too tired now to-" she could not finish the sentence, Jimin took her in his arms without any effort.

"It's our wedding, we can do what we like," he said with a smile that gave him a cheerful and absolutely adorable air, "And I want lots of children," he blew on her lips kissing her repeatedly, she laughed between their lips, unable to retort.

She did not know how exactly she had ended up trusting her fallen angel, but she was sure of the fact that she was now hopelessly in love with him, as he was with her.

#yandere jimin x reader #bts yandere x reader #jimin fic #jimin fiction #jimin imagine #jimin ff #bts fanfic #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin smut #bts smut #yandere bts smut #bts yandere smut #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #bts x you #jimin x you #bts dark fanfiction #bts smut yandere #bts yandere #bts x y/n #jimin x y/n #yandere jimin x y/n #seokjin fanfic #namjoon fanfic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Hear It In The Silence

Elks Chapter 6

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: The changing of the season brings a realization of the feelings you hold for Joel. Chapter Warnings: Smut, fluff, feelings, p in v sex, apocalypse birth control (pulling out). Words: 3,900 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. A/N: I listened to "You Are In Love" by Taylor Swift and "Myths" by Beach House on repeat for this chapter. I love writing this happy story for Joel, I hope you like it too.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist

***

“State Of Grace” by Taylor Swift. 

Summer is always the busiest time in Jackson, the sun stays up higher making everybody work longer hours. You help out in the gardens after school until the sun dips below the mountains. Joel isn’t home much, patrollers take advantage of the increased daylight staying away for longer stretches of time. You and him try to spend as much time together as you can between your busy schedules and Ellie. 

You sit together at community movie nights, his arm slung behind your chair, slowly running his fingers up and down your shoulder.

He sleeps over on the Fridays he’s not on patrol and walks you to your library, always grabbing the box of books you have.

He has Ellie help him fix up your fence and builds you a new feeder holder for your cats, even though they make him sneeze and sniffle, always caring for the things in your life.

He kisses you goodnight on your doorstep when he walks you home, the kiss usually turning heavy, both of you not caring who walks by as Joel backs you up against your door.

You stay over the nights before he leaves, always roused in the morning with a long, deep kiss before he picks up his boots and heads downstairs.

He finds small trinkets and art supplies for you, never coming home empty handed, always breathing you in deeply when you hug him hello.

Everyone knows about the two of you now, Tommy’s big mouth announcing how his big brother has been made a “big ol’ softy” thanks to you when he had one too many at the Bison. It’s a small town, news spreads quick.

Your lives become easily intertwined in the two months you’ve gotten to know him, you wouldn’t have it any other way. You leave CD’s at his place, he leaves an extra pair of boots at yours.

The quiet, bookish artist teacher and the big bad, brooding flannel clad stranger fall for each other like it’s straight out of a film you’d wear out watching in your VCR.

——

It’s late Saturday afternoon, it’s been a long day at the library, made even longer by the fact that today is the day Joel returns from his six nights away on patrol. You move quickly down the busy main street, nodding and saying hello to friends. Never stopping to chat, your destination is to Joel’s house. Your only thought is how much you hope he’s back already. Your heart tries to help you name this feeling. 

Quick strides up his familiar walkway, two steps to his door, you now know exactly how to turn the door knob so it doesn’t stick. The house smells like him… a little like sawdust, a little like leather, a little like coffee, now your favorite scent. The comfortability of his home helps you to name it. 

“Joel? I’m heeeere,” you shout down his hallway slacking your backpack down your shoulders and laying it near his door. He told you just last week he was going to hang a hook for it since you’re here all the time. Taking the effort to care for your possessions because they’re yours. His thoughtfulness helps you to name it.

There’s no answer, but there is a small jar of flowers on his coffee table. Oranges, purples and pink hued petals packed together haphazardly, all picked out specifically because he knows they’re your favorite colors. You bring the flowers up to your nose and inhale their smell. The sweet floral scent mixed with Joel’s house helps you to name it. 

You smile as you imagine his large fingers holding such delicate blooms. His hand grabbing a jar out of the cupboard. His palms pressing dry against his plaid kitchen towel after filling the jar with water from the tap. His face as he takes a step back and intensely judges his arrangement for you. His back aching right in the spot that always ails him as he gently bends down to place the jar of flowers at the corner of his coffee table knowing it’ll be one of the first things you notice when you walk through his door. For someone who has lived and lost a thousand lives, for someone who should be forever cold and closed off to the world, romance is never lost on Joel. You can name the feeling. You’re in lo—

A loud clash comes from the back of the house interrupting your thoughts. You place the flowers back down on the table and race to his kitchen. A movement outside of the window catches your eyes… there he is. Working outside, taking advantage of the beautiful summer weather, never able to rest during the daytime. He just got home from patrol and yet he’s still working. Your heart begins to race as you watch him throw logs of wood into a dilapidated wheelbarrow. You want to run to him, but you know you need to take advantage of being able to watch him work so close and anonymously. His face focused on the task at hand, eyes staring straight forward, brow furrowed in concentration, mouth slightly open and frowning causing his mustache to turn downward. He’s sweaty, you can tell by how golden and dewey his skin is in the sunlight, strong arms glistening with sweat, the fabric of his gray shirt wet in the neck and chest straining with each lift and throw of a log, his unruly hair growing curlier the longer it gets laying a little flatter thanks to the moisture and heat his body is giving off. He pauses for a second, taking a glove off to wipe his brow, you can’t take it any longer. You practically sprint to his back door and throw it open, Joel’s head turning when he hears it creak. His smile, goodness, his smile, it’s so wide and so full of affection, his eyes disappearing behind crinkles on the side. He begins to walk towards you as you walk towards him, your footsteps getting quicker as the distance between you is closed. You’re finally swept up in his arms, head pushed against his chest tightly, inhaling the heady scent of him in after a contented sigh. His shirt is soaked with his sweat, making the scent of him even stronger. 

“Hi sweetheart, missed you,” he smiles against your hair. 

“Hi, welcome back, missed you too, so much,” your happiness spilling out of your mouth.

“Mm,” he moves a hand up to grab your chin and angle your face to look at him. “Five days is a long time.” Joel licks his lips as he stares down at yours. 

He bends forward and kisses you, lips first softly pressing against yours. His hands moves to your face, one hand still clad in a glove, he’s too impatient to touch you to take the time to remove it. His thumbs press into your cheeks a little harder as he deepens the kiss, his tongue beginning to lick at yours. He pulls his lips away before the kiss becomes too indecent for his backyard. His forehead still rests against yours. “So happy to be home,” he whispers. 

“Thank you for my flowers, I love them,” you grin. 

“Yeah?” Joel joyfully respires against you. 

“Mmhmm, they’re so beautiful, I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

Joel pulls his head away so he can look you in your eyes. “M’glad you like them,” his hands still on your face his thumbs swiping back and forth against your cheeks. You’ve doubted his feelings for you, finding it easier to believe you’re living in a daydream where the man you had a crush on is the man who you get to spend all of your extra time with. But this? The way he’s cradling your head in his hands, the way he’s smiling at you, the way his eyes are angled down to look into your eyes, the look on his face when he saw you in the doorway, the way his lips hesitated to pull away wanting to kiss you longer… it’s the same for him as it is for you. 

“Let’s get inside,” Joel pulls you out of your thoughts, “s’been a long day for me, just started doing this to make the time go faster until you got here.” 

———

“You ever been in the ocean?”

The sun has long gone down, Saturday night is always your favorite night. Joel sits next to you on his couch, hair still damp from his shower with an after dinner cup of coffee that the two of you split, he’s always mindful not to instantly gulp all of it down. 

It’s become a shared routine for the two of you, low music coming from the stereo usually a new band that you introduce to him, maybe you’ll read the book you’re currently reading aloud, maybe he’ll fall asleep mouth agape emitting little snores as you quietly sketch, most of the time your night ends watching one of the few movies you share between your two households you falling asleep with your head in his lap. Typically it starts like this, discussions about life before, you always eager to remember, Joel always closing up perfectly happy to let you do all of the reminiscing for the two of you. 

“Yeah, couple of times, used to go to a beach town in Texas. You?” 

Joel’s answers, always straight and to the point.

“Once. Went on a vacation to California when I was a kid. I don’t remember much about it, but I remember how I couldn’t believe how big the ocean was. I know I was really afraid of swimming too far away from my dad, but wanting to just be taken away by the freedom of the waves. I miss swimming, used to swim for my high school, I don’t even know if I’m any good at all now after all of these years…”

Joel eyes you as you muse through your memories, always ever present right with you whenever you get lost in your thoughts. Your words always making up for his lack. His attentive silence urges your memories on. 

“I used to stay in the water for so long, I miss the feeling of my body moving against it and feeling so weightless. We had one of those above ground pools for a few summers when I was younger, I’d put the radio on and just float for literally hours. My mom would have to buy me oil treatments for my hair because it’d get so dry from the chlorine.” You smile at the memory, “I hated the smell of it on my hair, smelled like old lady perfume."

Joel chuckles, leaning in and kissing the top of your head inhaling deeply. “Always love how your hair smells now.” 

“Rosemary and yarrow, my own mixture.”

“Love it, you always smell so good and sweet.”

You smile and look up at him. “You always smell like such a man.”

“A man, huh?” He smirks, the lines around his eyes crinkling the exact way you love. You can always tells just how amused he is by how much his eyes disappear. You love that about him. 

“Yeah, you just smell capable, always faintly like wood and leather. I love it.”

You love a lot of things about him. In fact everything that you know about him, you love. You love how gruff he can get when he doesn’t get his way, whether you beat him at a card game he brags about his prowess in or if he burnt the toast. You love how his first stop after learning of his patrol assignments is your house, ready to spend whatever remaining time before leaving he has with you. You love how he teases you, always in the sweetest way possible, never any sign of cruelty, never knowing just how funny he is. You love how he’ll adjust the chain of your daisy pendant, gently moving the clasp to the back of your neck, his hand lingering against your skin. You love the communal silence between the two of you as much as you love the small talk the two of you share. You love how your shoulders will brush while you walk together. You love how he always puts the pictures you draw for him around his home turning it into a gallery of your work. You love how he’s become your closest friend, sharing lighthearted inside jokes over meals. You love how he doesn’t even blink twice when he sees you open your door in his shirt, knowing you love how soft and worn it is. You love him, ground shaking, rip roaring love. It feels kind of like being carried away by the ocean. 

You never thought you’d be able to feel this way about someone. Joel Miller, the man from Texas, so beautiful, so handsome, so soft, so capable. You know he’s lived a longer life than most even in the reality you and the world share now. You know just what he’s lost and what he’s sacrificed. He’s so complicated and yet you can tell exactly what he always needs. 

“You look a little lost there sweetheart, you alright?” Joel pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I’m okay,” you turn towards him, sitting on your knees. “Joel, I love you,” you breathe out in one, long nervous breath. “I– I think I am in love with you.” 

Your anxiety beginning to peak at your admission. 

Your heart beginning to race. 

Your nerves begin to twist inside of you, your doubts begin to make themselves known… until the sight before you quiets all of them. 

Joel blinks with the realization realization of your words as his eyes slowly look into yours, he gives you a crooked grin, his dimple deepening as his lips turn upright, a low exhale departs his lips. 

“I love you too sweetheart, so much. Been feeling this way for quite awhile, just didn’t want to spook you. In fact, damn near kept me up the first night I realized it. Pretty sure I’ve loved you since the first day you showed up on my doorstep in those overalls with your box full of pretty colors wanting to make me something.”

It’s been named. It’s as golden as Joel’s skin, more tanned and golden from the longer summer days. It’s as warm as the cup of coffee Joel pours out into the chipped owl mug. It’s as sweet as the scent of the flowers he picked for you. It’s as safe as the feeling of being pressed up against his body in an embrace. It’s love.

“I love you.”

“Say it again sweetheart,” Joel pulls you into his chest, your body falling into his. “I love you.”

“Sounds perfect coming out of your mouth,” his hand coming up to lift your chin up towards his face. “I love you too darlin’, let’s go to bed.”

——

You used to call your home your sanctuary, but you’ve found a new oasis at Joel’s house in the second room down the hall upstairs, his bedroom. Light gray walls, a chair in the corner where he always lays his clothes out “just in case,” crates of records and a dilapidated record player that hisses loudly, a bedside table, a drawer of it now filled with your things, a large bed covered in a dark gray thin quilt he uses in the warm months that smells of him.

That same soft quilt you now lay under, your body clad only in his shirt. The way Joel watches you as he removes his jeans and shirt, the way he gently lifts the covers to join you in bed, the way he exhales against your forehead as he kisses it, this time it feels different. This time he pulls you closer, clutching his hands against your back tighter. You rub your bare legs against his, your hands rest against his chest as he leans in for a kiss. Soft lips meet yours, it’s the first time you’ve kissed him in his room since the two of you admitted your love.

It all started with a glance months ago, a nervous meeting in his living room, an accident leaving you splayed out on the road in front of his home, an early morning walk to your library, and a mural for him to remember his past. Now, Joel Miller is kissing you in his bed, surrounded by all of his things, inside his home.

You lean back from the kiss, the soft light of the lamp he’s left on bathing the room in aureate tones. “I love you,” you whisper, the hazel in his eyes shimmer as he gives you the same crooked smile he blessed you with earlier. 

“I love you, so much sweetheart,” he returns against your lips, kissing you. The deep timbre of his words radiate through your body, spreading warmth through your limbs as you open your mouth and his tongue licks against yours.

Your hands grab his hair, fingers wrapping around his curly tendrils, breath hitching as he kisses down your neck, goosebumps covering your skin when his tongue dips out to lick the sensitive spot between your neck and collarbone. His hand snakes down to the hem of your shirt to lift up and remove it, taking the opportunity to roll you on your back, planting himself above you. His tongue roams down your body to lick and lave all over your now bare chest, dragging it back up to your mouth leaving a chaste kiss on your lips before moving back down to take a nipple in his mouth.

You squirm underneath him feeling the weight of his cock resting against your thigh, you want him so bad. His hand grabs your ass as you bring your leg up to give him more access to your now aching cunt.

The two of you have fooled around in his bed, you’ve explored each other’s bodies, you’ve had him in your mouth, he’s had you in his, but there’s been a silent agreement between the two of you to not take it a step further. Tonight? Tonight that’s going to change.

You reach a hand down to palm him through his briefs, he smiles against your chest as you moan at how hard he is. 

Another moan strangles out of your mouth as his hand moves from your ass to your cunt, running a line from your entrance to your clit and back down.  

“So wet f’me, I love how wet you always are f’me. Fuck, I love you baby,” he dips a thick finger into you, his thumb rubs against your clit, “love this pussy.”

“Joel,” you whimper when he adds another finger, “make love to me.”

“I will baby, it’s all I’ve wanted to do, just need to get you ready f’me.” 

He buries his fingers deeper, curling them up and hitting the sensitive spot inside of you. Your legs begin to quake as his two thick fingers fuck you through an orgasm, slick spilling out onto his fingers. Your hands clutch the sheets as you stare wide eyed at his handsome face. 

“S’beautiful. My beautiful girl, love how you cum for me.”

“Please,” you beg. “Please let me feel you inside me.”

The way his hand pets your knee reminds you of the way he softly touched you the day you fell. A tumble from a rock setting in motion your love story. You’re naked on Joel Miller’s bed begging him to make love to you because of that one little rock. You wish you could put it on display in your home.

He groans as he leans back on his haunches and pulls his briefs down, his cock springing free and already leaking. He’s so hard and so ready. He’s all yours and he loves you.

His large body climbs over you, entrapping you underneath him, the only place you’ve ever wanted to be since that first day you saw him. Your hips rise to try to get his cock closer to you, legs spreading open to offer him your pussy. 

He leans down and kisses your neck, licking his way up to your mouth as you grab his cock and begin to pump him bringing it closer to your dripping entrance. 

You guide it in, he’s so big it stings. You have to remind yourself to breathe as he slowly begins to move in and out of you. A slight grin on Joel’s face breaks out as he feels your pussy grip him. 

“I love you,” tears prick at the edges of your eyes, you’ve never felt so secure, so warm, so full as Joel moves inside of you, his broad body looming over yours. Your legs wrap around his waist as your hands run up and down his broad chest and stomach, feeling his muscles pulse as he moves inside of you.

“Love you too baby, so much,” he groans as your cunt flutters around him. He takes his time, languidly entering and exiting.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, a protector, a listener, a lover, his cock stretches your pussy as you think about how much you love him. How lucky you are to have him.

“You feel so good in me, you fill me so well,” you praise. Joel’s eyes burning into yours as you moan your words out with each push of his hips against you.

His grunts mix with your moans as he kisses you, your whole body begins to shake. His nose bumps against yours as he thrusts harder.

You’re so overwhelmed by his body, by his cock, by his love. You grab his biceps as your orgasm begins to peak, your pussy tightening around his cock. You’ve never had him this way, and you fear you’ll never get enough of it. 

“Yes baby,” he grunts, his pace becoming relentless, the sound of his body against yours echoing in his room. “Cum f’me, cum f’me. I love you.” 

You gasp “I love you” as your orgasm crescendos, nails digging into his arms, heart beating rapidly against your chest, body quivering underneath Joel as he fucks into your soaked cunt. 

“Love you baby," he growls as he pulls out and shoots his cum across your stomach.

You stare up at the sight, his face blissed out after cumming all over you, his mouth slightly agape panting for air, the one curl of his hair you love that always rests against his forehead hanging forward as his big brown eyes stare into yours.

"I love you darling," he smiles dipping his head down to kiss you.

"Love you," you say against his lips.

Whatever you did to deserve Joel Miller’s love, whatever brought him to you, whether it’s a rock or fate in the apocalypse, whatever caused this love between the two of you, it’s like a myth.

Later that night, you fall asleep next to Joel in his bed, the last words you hear as you drift off to sleep is “I love you” whispered against your neck. 

A/N: See you next Monday!

Tag list: @orcasoul, @dvmbazzsworld, @glitterymanboy

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #elks #joel miller smut #joel miller ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #the last of us fic #joel tlou #tlou joel

[harmonysanreads]

i’m just thinking abot ur recent post about when you cry during a movie… i’m having dr. ratio brainrot rn pls help

no but so real. he’d just delve into the illogicality of the film while ur sobbing your eyes out. he just doesn’t understand why you’re so affected? 1. it’s not real 2. you can see this coming from a mile away (and it can be either: the thing is pretty obvious, or the thing isn’t that obvious and ratio is too smart for his own good).

when he sees you cry he does scoff at the fact that you’re crying at something so trivial, but tones down his comments and maybe… if he feels nice enough, subtly wraps an arm around you in attempt to console you.

this is more general film/movie hcs but;

actually at any point while you’re watching a film he starts rattling on about how the film’s production is bad, how that sound effect wasn’t actually realistic (they could’ve done better sound design), how the actors aren’t actually speaking in the film, they actually record their lines later on.

(he mentioned that once and now you can’t stop thinking about it while watching literally anything, be it a live show or not. when you’re having a mini-crisis over if someone on a live gameshow is actually speaking or saying their lines later, he rolls his eyes and reminds you of the fact that it’s live. you miss the fond smile on his face while he does. it’s nice to know that you pay attention to his comments during the film-)

he just ruins movies for you and at some point you never mention the fact that you’re gonna watch a film or invite him to the movies anymore. he gets a bit pouty over it — maybe you mention a film you recently watched and he stares at you, mildly offended that he wasn’t invited. you explain that he keeps ruining the film for you, why can’t you let imagination be imagination?

okay… so he tries his best to tone it down. only for you. he still points out the obvious, but tries to bite back his comments when the lead does a stunt that comes off a bit too… unnatural? (it’s just nice to see your amazed face… that’s all.) or a poor done joke that really should’ve been performed better (he likes the way you giggle at it, even if it isn’t a very good one).

i’m actualy suffering dr ratio brainrot so bad rn he is taking over my life he lives in my head rent free please help

[ Post in question ]

Anon, please save me because I too am having massive Ratio brainrot after reading your ask(s).

I think infodumping is one of Ratio's love-languages in general. It's difficult to grasp unless you've known him for a while but he wouldn't just go parading around information about a specific topic to just anyone. Moreover, he always puts emphasis on self-learning. So unless he detects enthusiasm and effort for learning or if he really likes someone, I can't see him speaking this much — about movies nonetheless.

But if we consider it being his unique way of showing affection, I presume it'll annoy him greatly if the reaction he gets is counterproductive and refrain from it altogether in the worst-case scenario. Complaining about bad filmmaking is Ratio's way of connecting with you throughout the ordeal, you can watch a movie with anyone but, how many will passionately criticize (and flaunt their knowledge) every scene in front of you? It requires a level of trust and sharing certain thoughts with someone else necessities you have good rapport, at least for characters like Ratio.

So when you mentioned him trying to tone down on the criticisms ultimately instead of shutting it off entirely, that just showed how much he actually cares about you, which I think is very sweet.

#having someone you can freely talk about anything with is so precious #i'd get along with ratio on this one actually i crave a partner who'll destroy poorly done movies with me in leisure #UNLESS it's that one movie that i have an inexplicable attachment to he'll be banned from speaking #dr ratio #dr ratio brainrot #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #veritas ratio #dr ratio fluff #hsr fluff

[midnightsun-if]

Do we have an alternate ending to the true love kiss scenario but the kiss ended up working? 🥹💔 asking for a broken hearted fellow

A heavy buzzing is what alerts you to your surroundings first, your eyes fluttering open blearily as you try to make sense of the world coming into focus around you.

You were in a familiar room. Faint aromas and scents waft over you, soothing, instead of alerting, the beast within you.

You were on a bed. That you could tell by the soft sheets underneath your hands.

You weren't alone. Your gaze settling on the figure seated directly next to you, a wave of warmth crashing over you at the familiar sight.

Koda: "Hi, sunflower," he whispers, conscious of how loud he needed to be in case you were still disoriented. A large hand cups your cheek, tears causing the gold within his deep brown eyes to shimmer like flecks of liquid sunlight. "You've been asleep for a bit, I'm glad I was able to wake you up." Koda dips his head. "We should get you a medal. I think you beat out a hibernating bear."

Scarlett: "My heart." The whispered admission, spoken through a strangled noise, as if the breath had just been forced back into her lungs, is filled with adoration. "You've finally awoken." A look of complete relief is etched upon her face, Scarlett moving closer, as if on instinct, to clutch your hand. The usual viridescent quality of her gaze was darker than usual, a pallid hue to her complexion, but the happiness the shone through seemed to make her glow from within. "I'll have to ask you desist from ever scaring me like that again. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

Cyrus/Cyra: "You're awake." A soft smile comes to their lips at the sight, golden eyes shimmering with all the love they felt for you. "I wasn't certain if you would awaken. If I--" They pause, shaking whatever thought away. "I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't been able to help you." They gently take your hand into theirs, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. "You've helped me in so many ways, my flame, I'm glad that I was able to pay, at least some of, it back."

Quinn: "It's about time you woke up," they tease, easy smile on full display. If it wasn't for the strain around sapphire eyes, you would have almost believed it too. "I don't know how much longer I could have put up with your snoring, sweetheart." Quinn shakes their head, settling on the bed, making sure they didn't jostle you too much. "I'm just glad to finally see you awake."

Caden: "I'm glad to see you awake," they murmur, gently swiping a strand of hair away from your face. Argent eyes softened to a pale gray, black curls falling haphazardly across their forehead as they smile gently at you. "Is there anything you need? Anything I can help you with?" Caden settles on the bed beside you, light as air. "I will do everything in my power to make sure you're okay." They press a gentle kiss to your brow. "No matter how long that may take."

Sloane: A rush of emotions flickers across their face at the sight of you actually staring back. Hazel eyes flashing with the depth of the storm raging within them. "You're an ass," they grunt, hands tightening on the covers. "Do you have any fucking idea what you've just put me through?" Sloane barks out a laugh, shaking their head. "If you ever act like that much of a dumbass again, I might just leave you sleeping." Staring at you for a moment, their eyes soften, as does their tone. "But I can't say I'm not glad to see your beautiful eyes."

Blake: "I know I've said I enjoy Sleeping Beauty, but that doesn't mean you need to reenact it, angel." Violet eyes appraise your form, noting everything that could possibly be wrong. Seemingly content with what they find, Blake takes your hand into theirs, relief causing the tension within their body to rush out. "Let's leave curses and hexes to witches and animated movies, okay?" They run a hand through their hair, making the already messy locks even more haphazard in appearance. "Have no interest in almost losing you again."

Reginald/Regina: Blue green eyes brighten, a sunny smile overtaking their lips. "It actually worked!" They beam, rushing to your side in an instant. Slim hands cradling your face as they seem to simply want to soak you in. "I can't believe it actually worked! I'm happy that it did, of course. I don't want to even imagine it failing, but--" They cut themself off, clearly aware that they were headed towards a rant. Reigning themself in, they continue with a softer edge to their tone. "Even if I'm profoundly curious, I don't think I want to ever experience this again. I like it a lot better when you're the one answering my questions."

#midnight sun #asks #ro: blake herrera #ro: quinn grant #ro: sloane addams #ro: c aurelia #ro: r presley #ro: koda kingston #ro: caden randall #ro: scarlett voltaire #scenario asks

[sinning5sos]

valentine | Luke

Requested: yeah baby! could you write a smut abt dom!luke and fem!reader, where they’ve been best friends for years and have had just the thickest romantic and sexual tension, and luke brings y/n on tour and while she’s front row dancing and just like feeling herself to valentine, luke finds it like super hot and after the show he finally does something about the tension between the two of them. i love your work and i think you’d be the perfect person to write this!”

tysm, i love you

fucking sick idea

Word Count: ~2.2k

The music was pulsing through the arena, your eyes never leaving the lead singer, your best friend and you were so proud of him. You couldn’t believe that they were on another tour, and thankfully your schedule at work allowed you to travel with them for a few shows in the states. 

You loved getting to see Luke do what he does, the fact that you’ve known him since you were kids and have gotten to see him grow into the confident man that he is, it made you ecstatic.

You’ve been a part of Luke’s life for a long time, you loved him dearly. The two of you became mates way back when you were just in your first year of school. The two of you had been stuck together since then, often spending time with the other. It was insane when Luke had started getting views on his covers, and even crazier when the band formed and started getting famous. 

When the band moved to the states, you couldn’t imagine not having him only five minutes away but Luke practically begged you to follow along. Luckily, you found a job nearby and your schedule was flexible for the most part. 

Honestly you didn’t even know how many times you had seen them perform at this point, but you knew that it just continued to get better every single time. 

His eyes found yours as they continued performing Valentine, one of your favorites from them. Luke’s vocals always killed, and tonight he was on fire again. You sang along, a small smile on his lips as he maintained eye contact.

“Got nothing but love for you, fall more in love every day. Valentine, valentine.” 

You zoned out as you continued dancing along, your hips moving gently to the beat as the song continued on. You felt a gaze on you, and looked up as Luke sang, it felt as if directly to you, his eyes burning into yours.

“It don't matter just as long as I get all you tonight”

You blushed as the song continued, and he sent you a cheeky wink as the crowd continued chanting along. Luke’s gaze moved away from you, and you lost yourself in thought. 

It could've been unintentional. It could’ve just been Luke being himself, a little flirt. It could’ve been something more. You were never sure with Luke, you never wanted to push the friendship past what it is.

The others always pointed out that the two of you flirted with each other, your other friend pointed out that it was annoyingly adorable how much the two of you looked at each other or how handsy the two of you were. Sure, there were drunken kisses or cuddling during movies or the occasional shared bed. You always knew you loved Luke, you just didn’t know what sort of love.

The concert wrapped up quickly, your thoughts swimming due to that tiny wink from him earlier. You were already backstage, in his dressing room and sat on the couch waiting for him to finish up. He always had his post show ritual, where as soon as he was off that stage, he was taking a shower and finding a way for his body to relax.

After a few minutes, the door finally opened and Luke pushed through the entryway. He immediately smiled as he dove onto the couch beside you. You curled right into his side, his arm wrapping around you instinctively. His fingers grazing the exposed skin on your shoulder. You sighed, feeling content as you leaned even further into him.

“How was the show?”

“Amazing as always Lu,” You said, turning in his arms so your head was now laying in his lap. He shifted his arm so it was across your chest and he held your gaze.

“It’s one thing to know that you’re always there in the audience but it was another to see you that close tonight. Dancing along to the music, you looked beautiful.” He murmured, and you felt your cheeks blush.

“I’m serious, I don’t say it enough.” He whispered and your blush deepened, “I don’t say a lot of things enough. God, you looked fucking incredible tonight.”

“Luke,” You sat up and turned to face him, about to say something but he pulled you close to him. He moved closer to you, his movements hesitant as his nose nudged against yours. You didn’t stop him.

“I need you,” He murmured against your skin, his lips barely leaving as he trailed down your neck and you whimpered into the empty dressing room, “Now.”

You nodded, your arms wrapping around him as you pulled him closer into you.

“I’m in, but I need to know that this won’t change us.”

“It’s going to change us, but for the better. Seeing you in the front, seeing you dance along to our music, it made me realize what I’ve always known all along. Why I begged you to move with us, why I need you with me on the tour.”

“I just need you,” He whispered, his lips finally meeting yours and he nearly melted into you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him as close to you as possible and all thoughts were gone as the two of you continued kissing. This wasn’t the same type of kiss as before, there was something deeper there.

“Say yes,” He murmured, his nose nudging yours and you nodded, “Out loud. I can’t move on with myself if you’re not as into this as I am.”

“God, yes Luke, of course.” You whispered to him, and his lips met yours again. His kiss became more desperate, and his hands moved to the straps on your shirt and pushed them down. You leaned your body into him, quickly removing the top and suddenly feeling exposed beneath him.

“Fuck,” He breathed out, and you laughed at him as your fingers continued twirling in his hair.

“You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before Lu,” 

“Yeah but this is different. I get to finally act on every thought I’ve ever had,” He muttered, pulling his own shirt off as well. You unclasped your bra and pulled him back into you, your hands rubbing his shoulders and across his back as he trailed kisses down your chest. His teeth grazed over your nipple and you gasped quietly. This all felt so surreal, but damn it did he feel great.

He pushed your skirt up with his free hand, grazing your center slightly and your hips jolted into his touch. 

“So eager for you,” You whispered and he chuckled as he pulled your panties down and tossed them behind the couch. 

“Can I touch you?”

“Lu, I am entirely yours. Stop asking me, and just touch me.”

“Yes ma’am,” He murmured and you giggled as he kissed the inside of your knee and slowly trailed upward to your inner thigh, then to your exposed pussy. He kissed just above your core, his touch so light and you were craving more.

“Luke, just fuck me please.” You whimpered, and he paused to look at you. He licked his lips and nodded, before pushing himself down on the couch to adjust to a more comfortable position. 

“I will, just need to taste you first.” He muttered, and you were worried that he was going to be hesitant again but quickly started eating you out as if you were his last meal. He groaned as he pulled back for a second, before his tongue circled around your clit and your thighs twitched at how fucking good he felt. 

His tongue dipped inside of you, his nose nudging your clit as he continued eating you out. He pushed a finger inside of you and you threw your head back against the arm rest at finally feeling him. He pushed in another, and you felt yourself adjust to his touch as his tongue continued. 

“Fuck,” You breathed out and he winked at you again as he continued to eat you out and finger fuck you. Only an hour ago he was winking at you as well, and now look at how much things have changed.

“Gonna cum soon,” You moaned, and he added a third finger. At this point, you didn’t need to be warmed up anymore, and your orgasm was quickly approaching. Between everything that’s happened, you felt your thighs began to shake and you quickly came all over his face. 

You whimpered as he continued licking, nearly slurping and relaxed when he finally backed up. He sat up and made a big show of wiping his arm across his face and chuckled.

“Taste fucking sweet there darling,” He muttered and you giggled as you leaned up to kiss him, “But now I want to fuck you.”

“I want you bent over this counter so you can see how fucking hot you look while I’m fucking you,” He muttered, and your eyes widened at the sudden change. You licked your lips and nodded, taking his hand as he helped you up off the couch and pulled you towards the counter. 

“Just like that,” He whispered as he guided you, and helped bend you over the counter and pushed your dress up as his fingers pushed into you again. You moaned loudly,  your body adjusting quickly to him. He felt so right, and you moaned again as he curled his fingers inside of you.

“Need your cock Lu,” You grunted, and he chuckled as he pulled his hand out of you and sucked on his fingers again. 

“Taste so fucking good.” He said, before pulling his cock out from his pants but he panicked for a second, your eyes on him in the mirror, “Condom?”

“I’ve had my birth control shot, and I’m clean.” You whispered, and his eyes widened as he caught your gaze. You nodded, as if to encourage him and he groaned as his palms rubbed over your hips. 

“Fucking dream. I’m clean too, but I’ll do my best to pull out too.” He muttered, and you smiled as he stroked himself gently. He pushed in the tip, and you pushed yourself back to take more of him. He moaned quietly, his head falling back in pleasure as he was nearly fully inside of you, “You feel so good,”

“Just fuck me,” You whimpered, and he slowly pulled back out before he pushed inside of you fully. You could feel all of him inside you know, your body adjusting to him quickly and you desperately needed some friction. 

His hands moved so they were gripping both sides of your hips, and you hoped that his fingers left marks for you to admire later. He started fucking you with more of an intensity now, his cock slamming into you with every thrust and the fact that you got to watch everything in the mirror was so fucking hot.

“Look at me,” He snapped, his fingers digging into your sides as you caught his gaze in the mirror, “Such a good fucking girl.” 

For a moment, the only sounds that echoed in the dressing room were his hips meeting yours and his quiet moans from behind you. You held onto the counter as you felt your legs growing weak and put your weight onto the top. Luke continued fucking you, and you felt your orgasm approach quickly. 

“Gonna cum for me?” He murmured, his hand reaching around to your clit and his middle and ring finger started to rub it in circles.

You nodded, words failing you as you pushed your back against his chest, your gazes locked on each other as he continued to finger your clit and thrust into you. Your orgasm crashed over you, and he moaned as he continued fucking you through the wave of pleasure.

You nearly collapsed into his arms, and he helped you move slightly. You knelt in front of him, your hand replacing his as you started to stroke. 

“Now are you going to cum for me?” You whispered, winking up at him and he chuckled as he nodded. Luke gripped onto the counter behind you as you continued stroking him, and his cock twitched slightly before he came, doing his best to aim for your mouth but spilling down the front of your chest.

His eyes closed for a moment, his relief washing over his face as his legs buckled and you smiled up at him. You brought your fingers down to your chest and dragged some of his cum up into your mouth and he rolled his eyes as he handed you a tissue and helped clean you up.

“Come on baby, come sit on the couch with me.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead then helped you up to your feet and guided you over to the couch. 

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You whispered, your arm lazily coming to wrap around him and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“The wait was worth it,”

#sinning5sos #5sos smut #5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #Luke 5sos #Luke #luke imagine #5 seconds of summer luke #smut 5sos #smut 5 seconds of summer #5sos imagines #5sos fanfic #ashton 5sos #calum 5sos #michael clifford #ashton irwin #Calum #calum hood imagine #calum hood #calum 5 seconds of summer

[desifleabag]

Someone asked me a question: when does a broken friendship start hurting more and more, where you find yourself spiraling in thoughts?

And that question always hits me in the gut. I've been through so many broken friendships this year, which got me thinking: were they even real? Whenever I visit my favorite book cafe in my vicinity, the owner asks me about my best friend, where we spent hours talking about our crushes and our weekend plans, watching comfort movies like "Piku," "Tamasha," and "When Harry Met Sejal." Whenever I go to college alone and have my tea, the canteen owner asks, "Where are your other friends who used to be with you all the time, having vada pav and tea in every season?" Whenever my mother asks me about that particular friend I talked to for hours over a call, discussing how my day went, about that annoying colleague in my team, and how I forgot to have my meals on time. Whenever I go to a gift shop, the shopkeeper asks me, "You didn't buy flowers and a birthday card in February for your friend? What happened?"

You just give them a hundred reasons that are not true and try to smile like the way you used to be with your friends, wishing to escape from that moment when someone asks you about friends whom you left in the past, whom you grew apart from, and never delete the recycling bin of your photo gallery because you want to see them one last time while wiping your tears.

Whoever said " broken friendships hurt more than breakups" today I agree with that person so much.

#friendships breakups #desiblr #desi shit posting #desi #desi academia #dear diary #poems #poetries #short essay #spilled poetry

[fandomnerd9602]

A/N: and now because both Gwenpool and Spideypool won’t leave me alone

Gwenpool: get to the spicy stuff already!

SP: yeah! I want everyone to know what Gwen and I do behind closed tumblr feeds!

A/N: I now present…

Gwen Stacy x Spideypool!Reader NSFW Headcanons

You met on a mission to stop the Alchemax corporation from creating an army of Venom symbiotes

You saved her from falling into a reactor. You immediately covered it with a joke about it’s usually you who falls for someone.

Dates started pretty soon after: you go to concerts together, enjoy tea, watch a few movies together, make out together, etc.

She gets really turned on when you make a surprise appearance at one of her band’s performances. Gwen will drag you into her dressing room and have you take her on the room’s couch or makeup table.

Gwen’s little secret? She loves to tie you down with her webs. She’s gentle. She’ll make a whole little routine out of creeping towards you and removing her clothing as she walks an invisible tightrope towards you.

A huge fan of giving aftercare. Words of affirmation, kissing your wrists and all the while just reaffirming how much she loves you.

Gwen loves it when you use your thought bubbles as traction as you make love. She finds it funny how you can summon big thought bubbles into existence. Each of them is usually filled with your thoughts of her beauty and you consider yourself so blessed to have met the Gabriella to your Troy.

Hugs? She loves full body hugs. She wraps her legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

Favorite position? Missionary or Cowgirl. You playfully put a cowboy hat on her in one of Miguel’s many meetings just to tease her. She went beet red and no one knew why.

Not a huge fan of quickies. She wants to savor every last moment with you. Expect to romance her and stand outside her window using your cellphone as a boombox.

Favorite body part? You love her magic fingers. She loves your lips, Gwen wants them all over her body.

Extremely giggly after love making.

She is loud. Her voice only comes out in a series of grunts, moans, encouragement. Gwen wouldn’t be so loud if it wasn’t for the soundtrack that you swear the editor put in.

Gwen loves you, her Spideypool. You compliment one another perfectly. She’s down to try anything as long as it’s mutually beneficial and doesn’t hurt either of you.

SP: thank you! I really appreciate it.

A/N: great! Now please stop kidnapping me! I have requests to answer!!

Gwenpool: just wait until the next batch!

A/N: make it stop!!!

Tags: @deafeningsharkslimeempath @jacelion @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @ma1egamer @iamnicodemus

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #gwen stacy #hailee steinfeld #gwen stacy x reader #spider gwen #ghost spider #spider gwen x reader #spider society #across the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse #spideypool #spiderpool #deadpool

[multiverselibrarian]

Of Apocalypse Dogs and Grief

As someone who has been grieving the dog who saved my life and as an analytical nerd through and through, Fallout hit me deep.

Obviously Dogmeat (CXC404) is not the main focus of this series, but the Ghoul bonding with him was one of those dynamics that just made me sob. As a long time fan of science fiction/zombie media/apocalyptic media I’ve come to expect the cliche dog relationship. However, since the sudden death of my dog around a year ago, I’ve avoided some of my all time favorite movies to curb the hurt (I am Legend, for example). When this show came out, though, my excitement overshadowed that unspoken rule I had made for myself and I forgot my caution.

This slip up ultimately gifted me with so many wonderful memories to relive and also a reminder of one facet of grief I had yet to pay attention to.

For me personally, the most impactful scene of this topic was the brief clip of Dogmeat curling up on Cooper as he thought of his old dog, Rosevelt, from his past life.

“I’m sorry Dogmeat but you ain’t him.”

I could dive into how masterfully portrayed the Ghoul’s character is, and how the writing employed many interesting situations to show the audience his lasting humanity and vulnerability. Instead, I just miss my boy.

Because the Ghoul is right, nothing can compare to home. And that’s what my dog was to me: my home. It feels like I’ve been traversing my own wasteland without him ever since, which is disgustingly unfair because of all the zombie adventures I had imagined for the two of us.

I think a lot of my generation daydreams of the hypothetical post-apocalyptic world. Somehow it has become this fun future for when all the stress of our day-to-day catastrophes have boiled over and all we have left to do is breathe and survive the aftermath. It’s a genre that provides a lot of ironic comfort and commentary on what might drive us there.

I had always joked about what to do if zombies reigned or if bombs rained down, and my hypotheticals never left out my dog. I had always thought he’d be the finest apocalypse dog. A spunky mutt, athletic, protective and bonded to me above anyone else.

It would be me and him, cowboy and canine, against whatever may come.

That’s how we were in life, and so naturally that was how I saw us in this fictional future. It wasn’t the only future he joined me in. In fact, I had rarely pictured a near future without him. Then in the span of a couple hours he was gone. And I’ve been grappling with my own end of the world ever since.

I had been avoiding this trope like the plague as to not remind me of the futures I’d lost. But in Fallout, I found some odd closure. I could turn on the tv and see this adventure I had always wanted play out with some aspect of him waiting for me in it. I think, in small doses at least, this trope can help me after all.

So cheers to Fallout, a phenomenal world and story. And cheers to Dogmeat, who I see my own apocalypse dog in.

#fallout #fallout on prime #fallout tv series #fallout tv spoilers #personal journey #personal journal #rant post #personal rant #greif #pet loss #working through it #the ghoul #cxc404 #dogmeat

[callsign-relic]

Hi Relic!!

I’m thinking about the luring people with holoforms thing again from that other ask. That’s got to be one of my favorite troupes. I think it would be interesting if they used some sort of calmer, making their targets a little more docile. Kind of similar to I’ll Take Better Care of You.

Uugghhhhnmmm drabble about it \/

People have been going missing in your city lately. It’s a little worrying, but the police have a handle on it. That’s what they said in the news, at least. Either way, as you sit at your local bar, you can’t help but feel a little tense about the guy sitting next to you. It’s not in a creepy way, not really, but who goes to a bar dressed like he just jumped out of the 80’s? His bright colored clothes and strange demeanor put you off, but as he starts to make conversation his weirdness starts to feel less apparent.

The more you talk the more you like him. He’s sweet, funny, a bit obnoxious, but who isn’t at this hour? He doesn’t tell you his name, and you don’t ask. It feels like you’ve known him forever. Him and his weird hair. At some point, he invites you out. He wants to go “somewhere special”. Feeling like you could trust him with anything, you agree. The two of you load into an Uber, he sets the destination. While you leave, a bright red and orange sports car follows, but you didn’t pay it much mind. It isn’t until you finally arrive at your “special place” that you begin to feel uneasy again.

You comment on the sports car following you around, but he brushes it off, saying something about how cool it looks. The place he took you is largely empty, not many buildings around. A queasy feeling builds in your stomach. Why did you trust him to bring you out here?

You stumble a bit, smile fading. You make an excuse to leave, but when you turn to look at him his eyes flicker. Actually, all of him flickers. Like a badly CGI’d hologram in a shitty movie. Mind clearer than ever you begin to wordlessly move away. Unfortunately, by then it’s too late. Your legs are shaky from fear but that only intensifies when something very, very large begins to move.

The sports car.

Now you feel the need to run. And you do, however short of an escape attempt was. Your body is quickly grabbed by something, the floor starts to grow smaller beneath you. You scream to no avail.

“Sorry bud, there’s no one else here to hear you.”

Stark, blue lights flash onto your face, temporarily blinding you.

“You’re so cute from up close like this! Hah, I should’ve done this sooner.”

Your eyes adjust to see a robotic face grinning out you with sharp, fanged teeth. The stress in your body instantly explodes and you struggle from something you understand to be a hand- though that is where your understanding of the situation ends.

“Ah, you’re going to love it with me. Promise. Come on, little buddy.”

He squeezes you gently. Something soft and tranquil falls over your mind, causing your struggling to stop without your permission. Your body grows tired and your muscles feel like stone. Your thoughts are the last to go out, simply wondering where you would end up now.

(I didn’t proofread this and I am sick, sorry for mistakes or strangeness!)

OH MY GOSSHDHDHDHSHS TRIPLEGLITCH THIS WAS AMAZING!!!!! Omg reminds me of the old days where you’d send drabbles to my ask box, I missed getting asks from you 😭

The line “you’re so cute from up close like this” made my stomach flip and even rewriting it for my response here made it flip AGAIN. GOD I love this so much. This is totally something Rodimus would do, gaining your trust and luring you to somewhere empty to where you can become his beloved little pet. You were so nice to him when you chatted at the bar, he knew you’d be the perfect little guy to have around the ship!

And god omg I love the idea that even as he held a conversation with you in holoform, he saw it no more as a silly game. He knew you were coming with him by the end of the night, but he wanted a peek at what human life was like. And it was so adorable, what humans seemed to busy themselves with. So simple. So quaint. But he was about to bring you into a much bigger world. Perhaps it may have been something behind your understanding, but he would be the one to guide you through it. It was his responsibility as a pet owner, after all <333

#relic answers

[stellariah]

comforting you when you have a bad day — headcanons

⊹ word count: 100 words (ish)/character ⊹ content: sfw, reader/MC is referred to as you/your, fluffy comfort. ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ a/n: I hope you enjoy these very self-indulgent headcanons. Sorry - no Mephisto, Raph, or Thirteen. I don't feel I know them enough to write them well!

LUCIFER He'll do whatever he can to make the rest of your day easier. If anyone knows how upsetting it is to have more things piling up on your to-do list when you're already having a rough day, it's Lucifer – so all of those little things that pop up, he'll take care of before you even notice. Solomon set the kitchen on fire? Dealt with before you even got a whiff of smoke. Leviathan summoned Lotan in the bathroom again? If anything, you noticed the bathtub was absolutely spotless when you went to wash up at the end of the day. It's almost unsettling how smoothly the rest of the day goes. And just before you go to sleep, your D.D.D. pings.

Luci: Goodnight, my love. Get some rest so tomorrow can get off to a better start.

MAMMON

He knows something is up immediately. You could be the most stoic person in the universe, but Mammon would feel the change in your mood. He's not the best at talking through feelings, so he does what he does best: he'll stay close. Expect lots of little loving touches, if you're into it – resting his hand on the small of your back when you're walking, tangling your fingers with his when you're sitting together, a random back hug, a little peck on your cheek. He'll be blushing for the rest of the day. And if you're not into it, he'll just physically stay close to you. He'll also be extra protective - so help anyone that sours your mood further.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan will distract you. He'll invite you to his room as soon as he's able to for an anime night or a gaming session or a manga reading party. He won't let you out of his sight (if he can!). He's very sensitive to shifts in your mood and behaviour, so he'll be sneaking little glances at you constantly so he can get a read on how you're feeling. If what you're doing together doesn't seem to help you feel better, he'll shift to something else. And if all of his usual tactics fail, he'll just ask you what would help. Levi isn't straightforward often, but when you're hurting, he'll work through his anxiety so he can do whatever helps you most.

SATAN

He'll be your shoulder to cry on, your listening ear, and your personal counselor, if you want and need all three. Satan knows how relieving it can be to just let it out, so if you need some comfort while you cry or scream or throw things around, he's your guy. He's also the best listener of the brothers, so if you're someone who needs to talk it out, he's there for that, too. And if you want some advice on whatever if troubling you, expect him to give you some very rational, carefully thought-out ideas on what to do. Like Levi, Satan would just ask you what you need and be that for you to the best of his ability.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus has an emergency care kit prepared for you for days like this. Whatever you're usually up for along the lines of “self-care”, he'll have them pre-packed in a cute little box for you. Face masks, bath bombs, some good books or journals, your favourite songs or movies, a mani/pedi set – whatever you need to unwind, he's got it. If you want him around to relax together, he's got two fluffy bathrobes and sets of cosy pajamas ready to go. If you'd rather relax on your own, he'll drop off your care package at your door with a loving note tucked under the ribbon on the lid. It breaks his heart to see you sad and he hopes this little gesture of love helps you feel better.

BEELZEBUB

Like Lucifer, Beel just wants to make your day easier, but he'll be more upfront about it. He wants to make it obvious that he cares about you. With your permission, he'll carry your books and bag between classes or on the way home for you. He'll offer to take on your chores for the day. He'll run those pesky errands for you. He'll even help you with your homework if that would be helpful! Of course, you can also expect lots of snacks offered to you and meals brought to you. Would he peel an orange for you? Without a doubt. Beelzebub doesn't want your health taking a hit because of a really tough day, so he'll offer to help you take care of yourself.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor knows that sometimes the best way to feel better after an exceptionally tough day is to have a really good sleep. He'll set up the most luxurious, plush nap nook you've ever seen just for you (and maybe him, too, if you're okay with having a nap together). All his favourite pillows and blankets and plushies are carefully arranged for maximum comfort. If you want, he'll cuddle you until you fall asleep, softly stroking your back to help you along. And if sleep continues to evade you, he'll make you a soothing tea or read you a book or even give you a gentle massage to encourage your body to rest.

DIAVOLO

You have had a huge impact on the Seven Lords, and on the Devildom as a whole, so it both hurts and concerns Diavolo to see you feeling low. Though he has an exceptionally busy schedule, Diavolo would make time so you can spend time together. While you're together, Dia will do whatever he can to make you smile or laugh, using his bright, jovial personality to its fullest. You can also expect a ton of reassurance and praise – he'll offer you little affirmations about how amazing you are and how much you mean to all of them (to him, especially).

BARBATOS

Barbatos is an expert in care by nature of his work, so he is the most equipped to care for you on your toughest days. He'll have whatever you need in less than the time it takes to exhale. He'll be extra attentive to you around routines, like getting ready for school or work or winding down for the day. Need help tidying your hair before you leave? Barbatos is an expert in hair care, step into his home salon. Don't have the energy to make a lunch? No worries, he's already packed one for you and dinner will be waiting for you when you get home. He may be the best masseuse in the universe, too, so if you're up for it, he'll give you a full body massage before you go to sleep.

SIMEON

Out of everyone, Simeon will be the most distressed by you having a hard day, but (other than maybe Satan) he'll be the most calm when trying to help you feel better. His presence is naturally soothing, so just having him around is enough to lift your mood a little. He'll stay close for as long as you want. Simeon is an ask, don't assume kind of person – he doesn't want to do things he thinks you'll find helpful and overstep. Instead, he waits for you to directly ask for help and watches you closely for non-verbal indicators of things he can do that he knows you'll appreciate.

SOLOMON

Solomon has a hard time sorting out his own emotions and recognizes he may not be the best to help you sort out yours, but he wants to help somehow. So, he drops little gifts for you. That pastry you were eyeing the other day at the bakery is waiting for you on your desk with a cute doodle on a sticky note beside it. A paper airplane lands on your desk and it unfolds into a sweet love note (bonus laugh when you watch Sol getting scolded by your professor). The newest book from your favourite Human World author is wrapped up (badly) and tucked under your pillow. He just wants you to know he's always thinking of you.

©stellariah 2024 | do not copy, repost, translate, or feed my work to AI

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmodeus #om beelzebub #om belphegor #om diavolo #om barbatos #om simeon #om solomon #beelzebub is THEE orange peel boyfriend and you can't change my mind #don't ask why i think barb is an amazing masseuse i don't have an answer #that's just my *opinion* #anyway hoping anyone out there having a tough day has a better one tomorrow <3

[the-authoress-writes]

Up Where We Belong

Part One

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Writer!reader

Synopsis: When a writer experiencing horrible writer’s block goes to the Apple Valley Airshow for inspiration, she meets a certain older, daring naval aviator, leading to maybe a little more than just inspiration.

Warnings: Mentions of hospice and family member deaths, age gap (reader is in their late thirties to early forties).

But really, this is just fluff.

Author’s Note: The plot bunnies have reproduced at an unholy rate, and I am so stupid for writing this, especially since I have another chapter of “Wherever You Go”, to write, the first chapter of “Safe and Sound” and a MavDad story to finish.

The second part and another Mav story is lined up, but at this point, I’m not going to complain, because at least I’m writing, and Mav is finally getting more of my writerly attention.

We’ll see what gets finished next, 😂.

#writerlife

Again, I name a story after a song, from another movie about the Navy, funnily enough.

(Only three of my stories on my masterlist are not named after songs—I can’t stop, apparently)

So here we go!

She had always been somewhat interested in planes—it was hard not to be, when most of her family was in commercial aviation.

Her father had flown for nearly thirty years for American, her younger brother was currently a first officer coming up on his command upgrade with Delta, and her grandfather, whom she affectionately called PopPop, had flown for Continental.

Some of her fondest memories were looking over her grandfather’s maps and airport diagrams, and sitting on his lap while he taught her how to use an analog flight computer.

But one day, when she was home from her freshman year of college, where she was taking her degree in English, her grandfather took her up to the attic to show her something.

It was a footlocker from World War II, the faded paint on the outside reading “USAAF”.

“This was your granduncle Joseph’s—my eldest brother.

He was a P-51 pilot.

He ran many successful missions in his aircraft until he got shot down saving his wingman’s life, near the end of the war.”

PopPop opened the footlocker, revealing a faded American flag folded into a tricorn lying neatly atop several dark greenish-brown uniforms.

PopPop gently lifted the flag and uniforms out of the footlocker, uncovering yellowed, brittle-looking maps, a compass set, and a thick stack of letters, tied together with a black ribbon.

It was the stack of letters that PopPop lifted out, and held out to her. “Look at these, and read them.”

She did, and the story the letters contained was beautiful and heartbreaking.

Her granduncle had fallen in love with a woman who was a member of the French Resistance, named Céline, whom he’d met during a covert resupply mission, and they even had plans to marry after the war.

But she’d died in a skirmish with German soldiers in Paris, leaving him so bereft that he’d taken to writing letters to her specter, just to have an outlet for his grief.

The last letter in the pile was heartwrenching, where her granduncle Joseph talked about how he was only living because she would want him to, only being careful in the air because she’d want him to.

She’d cried reading the letters, and she’d asked PopPop why he’d wanted her to read the letters.

“I wanted someone else to know their story,” he’d simply replied.

“No one else knows?”

He hummed, considering his answer. “Sometimes you keep some things to yourself until the right person to tell comes along.”

A few years passed, and when PopPop was on hospice, the two of them were watching “Band of Brothers”, when she remembered Uncle Joe, as she’d taken to calling him in her head.

“What’s going on in that bright head of yours, darling?” PopPop’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh, uh, nothing much, I was just remembering Uncle Joe.

Thinking that he and Céline deserved better.”

“They did.”

She shook her head, “I wish I could write them a happier ending, you know?”

PopPop hummed weakly. “Well, why don’t you?

If anyone could do it, it would be you.

If you do that, I’m sure in a few years, those English professors of yours would be saying that they taught a great American author.”

She was shocked and touched. “Wha—I—well, I guess I could, but, are—y-you’d be okay with that, PopPop?”

He laid a cold hand on hers, “I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else, my dear girl.”

“Okay,” she smiled tearily, and nodded, the two of them returning their attention to the episode.

A week later, PopPop passed, and many things happened over the ensuing years that caused the idea of writing about Uncle Joe to be put on the back burner.

In fact, she forgot all about it, until she was sitting on her couch a couple of weeks after having been let go from her job as an English teacher at her local high school.

She was mindlessly watching an episode of some show she couldn’t even remember the name of, when her eyes landed on the footlocker which PopPop had given to her in his will.

The memory of PopPop encouraging her to write about Uncle Joe came back to her, and she paused the episode, strode over to the footlocker, carefully opened it, and drew out the letters.

Madly, over the course of the next several hours, she reread the letters, numerous research-related tabs quickly opening up on her phone, tablet, and laptop.

As months passed, she made good progress on her first draft, but somewhere along the way, about slightly less than halfway through her intended story beats, she hit the dreaded dead end, writer’s block in full force.

Rereading the letters did nothing—every line she wrote, she deleted; she felt lost, and like she’d completely lost Uncle Joe and Céline’s voices.

She felt right back at square one.

Then, one day, as she was looking at her brother’s latest Facebook reel from his layover in Korea, she saw an advertisement for the Apple Valley Airshow, which would feature an aerobatic demonstration with an actual, airworthy P-51.

Maybe seeing the aircraft her Uncle flew would shake something loose in her brain so she could move forward.

She didn’t even hesitate—she immediately booked a ticket, and prepared herself to take down a lot of notes.

The airshow was absolutely wonderful, and even though she never got as into aviation as the rest of her family, it was still something which fascinated her, and seeing the planes made her marvel all over again at the miracle that was aviation, how humankind had successfully taken the skies for itself through brutally elegant means.

Finally, it was time for the reason she’d come—the emcee began, “Now, everyone, you’re all in for a treat, because up next, we have a nearly eighty-year-old aircraft, a P-51K named Bianca, and she’ll be giving us an aerobatic demonstration!

So let’s give a warm Apple Valley Airshow welcome to Bianca and her owner and pilot, US Navy Captain Pete Mitchell!”

She clapped along with everyone else, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the P-51.

Soon, the sound of a propeller engine grew louder and louder, and then, there she was.

Bianca was gorgeous, gleaming silver with red markings, the American star roundel on her side.

The shining aircraft got closer and closer to the ground, towards the crowd, and just as she was about to worry that the P-51 was in an upset condition, the plane pulled up slightly, buzzing the transfixed people.

Laughing in awe and delight, she clapped with everyone, and watched as the daring pilot put the plane through a series of hair-raising spirals, rolls, dives, and elegant, breathtaking passes with such precision, skill, and ease, just knowing that whoever was flying that old girl had aviation in his blood as surely as it ran in hers; it made her wonder what her granduncle would say about how the venerable fighter was being flown.

Before she knew it, the demonstration was over, and with another low pass and wing wave, the P-51 flew off to land.

It actually took her a moment to come back to herself, she was so stunned by what she saw, and she knew she had to see Bianca up close.

After asking for directions to the flight line, she scanned the row of planes, eventually spying a flash of red.

She walked over, catching sight of a tall, mustached man a few years younger than her, standing in front of the aircraft, wearing a borderline-obnoxiously-loud Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned over a white tank and jeans, stereotypical Ray-Bans pushed up onto his head.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” the man replied.

“Is this the P-51 which flew a few minutes ago?

She is a P-51, right?”

“That’d be a yes to both questions, ma’am.”

She chuckled grimly at the idea that her age was maybe showing enough for her to be ma’am-ed by someone only a few years younger than her. “Are you the owner?”

He scoffed, good-naturedly. “Nah, that’ll be my dad.

Hey Dad, someone wants to talk to you!”

A moment later, a man stepped out from under the P-51, and she’d absolutely be lying if she said her breath didn’t catch.

First off, if she had to guess, he was older than her, but there was something about him which made him seem younger than his age.

Then there was the fact that he was absurdly good looking—ridiculously so, in fact; impossibly raven-dark hair, mischievously sparkling, brilliant green eyes, and a physique that people half her age would kill for, all sinewy muscle, visible with the snug white t-shirt and jeans he was wearing.

The final nail in the proverbial coffin was his smile—God, it belonged in a museum, because it was a work of art, and coupled with his roguish air, everything about him screamed the most delicious kind of trouble, sending echoes of Whoopi Goldberg’s voice saying, “You in danger, girl,” through her head.

“Hi,” he began, extending his hand.

Luckily for her, she was quick on the draw, and extended her own hand, proffering a “Hi,” of her own, though she kicked herself at the fact that the next words out of her mouth were, “Are you the owner?”

Oh, well—couldn’t win them all.

His grip was firm and calloused, but gentle, without the cool metal band she expected on his fourth finger, quick eyes observing the lack of even a pale band of skin on the same finger, and she shook herself from the observation in time to hear his, “That’s me—Pete Mitchell, you can call me Mav.”

At her quizzical look, he continued, “It’s short for my callsign, Maverick—I’m Navy.”

She nodded, “The emcee did say you were Navy, and that tracks; judging from that impressive demonstration, you don’t strike me as the kind who blends in.”

“Thank you—I aim to please,” he grinned.

Miraculously, she managed to ignore his brilliant, beautiful smile, somehow mustering a “Well, you certainly delivered,” before she introduced herself.

A cough from the younger man, Pete’s son, made her realize that she hadn’t let go of Pete’s hand, and vice versa, which caused the two of them to practically spring apart.

“Oh, uh, this is my son, Bradley,” Pete introduced the younger man, reaching nearly comically up to wrap an arm around Bradley’s shoulders.

“Nice to meet you, Bradley,” she replied, trying to recollect herself while her mind acted like it was the first time she’d interacted with a good-looking man.

“Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

“I look that bad, do I?” she chuckled.

“Just the way he was raised,” Pete proudly said, patting his son on the back.

Embarrassingly, she just then remembered the reason she was here. “Oh, I—I actually had a few questions for you, Pete, about the P-51, because I’m writing a book, and I wanted to get some details.”

His eyes lit up. “Details about this old girl, huh?

I can do that; come on, let me show you around.” He moved to the side of the aircraft and gestured grandly. “Bianca here’s a Dallas-built North American P-51K, with a Packard V-1650-7 engine and an 11 foot diameter Aeroproducts propeller.

She was donated to the Civil Air Patrol in 1946, and I acquired her in 2001.

I’m not sure if she ever saw combat, because her military flight logs were lost, but I know for a fact that she routinely patrolled the California skies way back when.

Let me show you the controls.”

He nimbly boosted himself up to the wing and held his hand out to her. “Come on up.”

“Uh, is this a wise decision?” she asked, glancing between his hand and the wing. “She is nearly eighty-years-old.”

Pete laughed, “She’s stronger than she looks, and these girls were made to withstand this sort of thing, come on.”

Deciding to trust his judgment, she took his hand and jumped up to the wing at the same time as he pulled her up, causing extra momentum which propelled her body into his.

He caught them on the edge of the cockpit, and after a second, she realized that she was pressed up against his body, both hands resting against his…very solid chest.

She prayed that her suddenly pounding heart and the burning flush on her cheeks could be discounted as a reaction to her stumble.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed, scrambling back to put some distance between them for her sanity’s sake, while trying not to fall off either wing edge.

“Eh,” he waved off, “that’s my fault, I should have said I’d pull you up,” as he shifted to kneel on the wing. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she replied breezily, “I believe you were about to show me the controls?”

“Mm-hmm, come here.”

They slowly adjusted themselves into a configuration that enabled them both to see into the cockpit, and he pointed out the many gauges—explaining each one—and the literal stick stick, which looked nothing like the controls of any aircraft she’d seen in person or in the movies, as well as her general flight capabilities and technical specifications.

A further glance to the right showed something she didn’t expect to see. “I thought the P-51 was a single seat aircraft?”

Pete absentmindedly rubbed the back of his neck, “They are—I made a… few modifications.”

“Oh.”

“You want to sit in her?” he offered, gesturing to the pilot’s seat.

She was not about to pass up an opportunity like that. “I—wh—sure!”

He carefully helped her into the cockpit, and once settled, she breathed in and out while she absorbed this moment, and imagined her granduncle sitting in a seat similar to this one, looking out at the boundless sky. “Wow,” she reverently murmured.

“I know, right?”

“This is amazing, that aircraft like this is still around and still flying, I mean—this is history,” she said, getting slightly emotional.

“It is; she is.”

After a few beats longer, she sighed, and reached for his hand so she could get out, and he carefully eased her out of the cockpit, onto the wing, then both of them back onto the ground.

“Thank you, for showing me around, this was really helpful, Pete, I think this really helped me.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded easily. “If I may ask, what kind of book are you writing?”

For the briefest second, she instinctively recoiled from the idea of telling the story, but then, some part of her heart said that Pete Mitchell was someone she could tell this story to. “It’s uh, a fictional version of my granduncle Joe’s love story; he was a P-51 pilot during World War II, and he was in love with a woman in the French Resistance named Céline.” She turned to look at Bianca’s gleaming fuselage. “But they both died in the war; she was killed by the Germans, and he got shot down saving his wingman soon after.

I never even knew until my first year of college, when my grandfather told me the story through the love letters my granduncle and Céline wrote.

When my grandfather was dying, I told him that I wished they had a happy ending, and… well, he told me to write it for them, since I was an English major.

So here I am,” she shrugged, turning to face Pete.

He looked grave and touched. “That’s… that’s beautiful.”

“Thank you, I have to admit, I’ve wondered if what I was doing was disrespectful.”

“I know quite a few people who deserved happy endings that didn’t get them,” he glanced into the distance, a wistful, pained look in his eyes. “If I can help at least two people who didn’t have their happy endings in this world get it somehow, I’m more than willing to help.”

She sincerely replied, “Thank you for the validation,” wondering what his story was.

“You’re welcome.

And uh… you know what?

Gimme a second.”

He leapt back onto the P-51’s wing, and rummaged through the cockpit, pulling out a flight log book and a pen, hastily writing something on a page, before he tore it out, and leapt back down.

“Here, it’s my number—if you had any more questions, feel free to call, I’d be happy to answer them.”

If she had been placed in a similar situation as this maybe twenty years ago, she’d have probably done something to embarrass herself, because this—things like this didn’t happen to her—they only happened in movies, but here she was.

He gave her his number—yes, it was if she had any research questions, but still.

‘Get a grip, woman, just because you didn’t see a ring doesn’t mean he isn’t in a relationship,’ she told herself, trying to project “Respectable Professional Woman”, while her inner adolescent was trying its level best to come out.

“Th—thank you,” she managed to get out, with only a minute stammer on the first syllable.

“I’m serious, call if you need anything—I mean—there’s not a lot of people out there who can tell you what it’s like to actually fly one of these beauties.”

“Be careful,” she chuckled, already determined not to call unless it was absolutely dire, “You don’t know if I might take you up on that offer.”

“It’s what I gave you my number for,” Pete winked, and she commended herself for keeping it together.

Deciding to quit while she was ahead, and while she still seemed like a normal human being, she came in for final approach, as her dad would put it, with, “Alright—I better go, I’ve already taken too much of your time.”

“It’s fine, it’s always a pleasure to talk to someone about this girl.”

“Thank you again,” she stated, honestly grateful, feeling the creative juices flowing and simmering in the background.

“You’re welcome.”

And with that, she walked away, exhaling evenly for so many reasons.

That night, she wrote and wrote just as she expected, and the story was flowing.

That is, until she hit another wall just before the next weekend.

And this one was even more stubborn than the first.

It didn’t help that she had written herself into a corner with this dogfight scene she was on—she had no way of knowing if the tactics were sound, and she was thinking of completely cutting it, but it seemed so stilted without it, and she had no idea of how to avoid writing this scene.

But one part of that thought, she realized, wasn’t true.

Her gaze landed on her coffee table.

The sheet of flight log paper with ten numbers written on them stared tauntingly back at her, daring her to call Pete.

“Nope, no, I am not going to do it,” she told herself. “No—absolutely not.

I’m sure he has better things to do than answer stupid questions.

No—I will not call him.”

The paper raised a nonexistent eyebrow.

“No!” was her battle cry, and she turned back to her laptop screen, but it offered no relief.

The depressing reality of her blinking, unmoving cursor cackled at her in harmony with the flight log paper.

It was like that healthy cereal ad from years ago, with the little girl in a prim uniform, enticingly calling “Donuts?”

However, after ten more minutes, the dictatorship of the blank page grew too cruel and harsh, and she folded like a house of whatever was more insubstantial than cards.

“Fine,” she muttered, snatching up the paper. “I’ll call, but if he doesn’t answer, it’s no skin off my back—I’ll manage… somehow.”

At least that’s what she told herself.

She dialed the number, heart pounding as the phone rang…

And rang…

And rang…

And rang.

She was just about to breathe a sigh of conflicted relief and hang up, but then the line clicked, and she heard a slightly breathless “Pete Mitchell.”

“Hi,” she blinked, cursing herself for not thinking through what she was going to say. “I don’t know if you remember me, we met at the Apple Valley Airshow—”

“__, right?

The writer.”

“Yeah, that’s me, you said I could call if I had any questions,” she scratched her head.

“Uh-huh.

I’m guessing you have one,” she could hear the smile in his voice.

“More like a lot, really.

I’ve unfortunately written myself into a corner, it’s this dogfight scene, and there’s no way I can currently remove it without sacrificing practically all of my progress since last week.

I just need to know if the tactics are sound.”

“Huh.”

“I—you know, I can figure it out myself, if it’s too much trouble—”

He interrupted, “No, it’s no trouble, I’m more than willing to help, in fact… uh, this might sound—weird and uncomfortable—or—both, really, but if you want, why don’t you come out to my hangar tomorrow, we can talk about this, rework your scene if we need to, without having to do video calls or text or email.”

“Oh,” she breathed, eyes wide.

“I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything,” he chuckled.

“I—thank you for the reassurance, by the way—but I mean, that’s a lot of confidence in how well I can write a dogfight.”

“It can’t be all that bad,” he assured.

“I’ll just prepare to be ripped to shreds,” she half-teasingly replied.

Pete snorted. “Even if it were that bad, I wouldn’t rip it to shreds—I save that for my new students.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know what’s worse, being torn apart or the porcelain treatment.”

“How about a balance, then?”

“I’d be very happy with that.”

“So… is that a yes to coming out to my hangar?”

“I… suppose it is,” she replied, before she could convince herself otherwise.

She was a mature, responsible adult, and she was capable of being said mature, responsible adult.

(And if time permitted, she was even capable of looking respectfully, when he wasn’t watching.)

(She was only human, after all.)

“Perfect, I’ll send you the address; I have to warn you, it’ll probably be a bit of a drive, is that okay?”

“That’s fine, after all, where else will I find someone with experience flying the P-51?”

“You could always try the local VFW post,” he joked.

“What are the odds my local VFW has a former P-51 pilot?

I’ll go with the expert I’ve already met.”

“Alright, alright, I already agreed to help, no need to butter me up,” he lightly said, humorously.

“Just send the address,” was her amused response.

And that was how she found herself on US-395 North making the three-and-a-half hour drive from her apartment in San Bernardino to the Mojave, praying that she wouldn’t somehow make a fool of herself today.

To be continued…

Next Part

Was part of this story inspired by Atonement?

Maybe.

I didn’t really have the movie in mind when I wrote the plot device, but I realized the similarity after the fact.

Analog flight computer

USAAF

Band of Brothers

The Apple Valley Airshow takes place every year in the town of Apple Valley, located in San Bernardino, California.

(I considered setting this story at the annual Miramar Airshow, which takes place at MCAS (formerly NAS) Miramar, but I imagine that Mav would probably want to avoid going to MCAS Miramar for obvious reasons.)

Roundel

I don’t think that most pilots would do very daring aerobatic stunts in a plane as old as the P-51, just because she’s a darn P-51, and she’s a flying piece of history, but this is Mav, he absolutely knows what his girl can handle, I’m sure he knows how to make something look more crazy than it actually is, and bottom line, let’s just suspend our disbelief, 😂.

Did I introduce Mav in that way just so I could use that gif?

Probably absolutely.

It’s a great shot, and I do not blame me.

“You in danger, girl.” Timestamp 1:35

All the information about the P-51 is taken from the information available about the model and history/registration of Tom’s P-51, except for the details of her name and the military flight logs being missing, as the history available for N51EW never mentions if she saw actual WWII combat.

She is registered in the FAA database with the serial number 44-12840, and her name since 2006 has been “Kiss Me Kate”.

(I know why she’s named this, and it hits something in my heart that Tom never bothered to rename her.)

Her name in this story will be explained later, but those who follow me on my main blog, @oh-great-authoress, might have a hunch as to why I named the P-51 “Bianca”.

The ad I mentioned was a real Kellogg’s Special K ad.

VFW

The travel time between San Bernardino and Mav’s hangar is estimated using the travel time from San Bernardino to NAWS China Lake, and then a further hour and twenty minutes from there.

Taglist

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#not me 👀 at men literally old enough to be my father #but my reader DEFINITELY is—and he’s not old enough to be HER father #bahaha 🤣 #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fic #top gun maverick fic #pete maverick mitchell x reader #pete mitchell x reader #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #tom cruise