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#Sly 5 Ideas
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kinda thinking about the relevance of the villains’ crimes and how widely they were broadcasted after Sly put an end to them. like, creating an army of the undead must’ve at least been global news, come on. i doubt the ones that took place in like very secluded areas would become news like Clockwerk, Neyla, Mask of Dark Earth, but like Don Octavio blowing up Venice or the Black Baron reveal would 100% be front-page news everywhere. that’s the difference between the villains in the final game and the rest: the Sly 1 and 2 baddies were underlings with side-hustles, which like could be dealt with very privately, like no one would even care if Bison got his ass handed to him in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere. but in Sly 3 the villains were just straight-up pulling off crimes in public like so you literally don’t give a fuck ?
if the games took place today, people would defo go fucking nuts over the Contessa. like you wouldn’t be able to escape tiktoks about her and her backstory, and then Netflix would make a true crime docuseries about her and how she might’ve murdered her husband (titled Spider King or whatever never watched that shit). Tsao as a furry Andrew Tate anyone? bye.
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itookyoudown · 2 years
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tim is always texan. except when i write him being born in southern louisiana. as a special treat (for me).
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bouncybongfairy · 3 months
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SugarFreeze
Felix Catton x Fem Reader
Summary: With finals coming up in the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Oliver was falling apart. After spending 5 hours in the library, you run into Felix; who has a dangerous amount of jealousy over your relationship with Oliver. Needing to take this anger out on something, he decides your pussy is the best option.
Word Count: 2.0k
T/W: Hate fucking, Sadism kink, Blood kink. Shout out to @kaionyx who's blog I used as reference!
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Finals were only a couple weeks away and everyone was feeling the stress. Things with Oliver have been stressful and depleting to say the least. He’s been secluding himself due to the stress of finals. You’d been reaching out but it’s like trying to save someone while drowning yourself. Lacking the energy to fight for proper communication the relationship needed to thrive, you’d given up. Taking up the mindset of ‘if he wanted to, he would’ was helping you cope… kinda, not really. You've been studying in the library for almost five hours now, the only reason you stopped is because the librarian locking up for the night. The sun began setting but there was still light outside. You were currently re-reading the Ernesto Quiñonez novel that you’d be analyzing in your English class for the final. Annotating along the way, sticky notes poking out in every direction. Looking back, walking while having your nose buried into a book wasn’t the best idea. Which led to accidentally bumping into someone, sending you stumbling back and the book dropping into a puddle. Scrambling to pick it up, you open the pages and examine the now ruined sticky notes. The pen ink immediately starts to bleed, your eyes swell with tears. Devastated by hours of work, subject to water damage and having no control over it. You looked up to see who was responsible for ruining your day and saw none other than Felix. 
“Sorry about that,” he said, taking a drag off his cigarette.
“It’s whatever,” you huffed, holding back your resentment and anger. 
You did not like Felix, you’d never confront Oliver about this but you were sure they had some type of sexual tension between them. That wasn’t what irritated you, if they had a thing in the past that’s completely fine. However, there were times when you felt like Felix was trying to send you a message. Like when they would get drunk and fight, he would make direct eye contact with you. Sometimes you’d catch them cuddling on the couch or Felix would make sly comments in a ‘joking’ way. He offered you a drag and after the day you had accepted it. Both your dorms were in the same direction and as much as you hated him, it was safer walking back with the company. This led to small talk along the way.
“I don’t know how you’re so relaxed with finals coming up, my minds been in the gutter lately,” you said, taking off your glasses and cleaning them.
“This helps,” he said, pulling out a 12 oz bottle of Everclear 190-proof. 
He offered you a drink and at first you declined. Then you looked back down at your book, looking at the notes that were only getting harder to decipher. Grabbing the bottle you took three confident swings and immediately regretted it as your throat and chest began to burn. Not being a big drinker,  you felt like the wind got knocked out of you. He of course laughed at you for reacting so outwardly, 
“You could barely handle three sips, I'll be taking that,” he said, going to reach for the bottle. 
This made you feel like he underestimated you so of course you took a couple more sips. Shivering at the taste and feeling of the alcohol run down your throat. While you grimaced at the taste and stinging sensation, he took a single swig and then capped the bottle. Putting it in the front pocket of his shorts. The only thing you had for breakfast was coffee and a half a bagel and you were starting to regret that. The liquor began to take its effect, that warm feeling in your stomach was starting to spread throughout your body. By the time you got to your dorm, you were giggling and swaying a bit. Felix helps you maintain balance by holding onto your upper arm and letting you lean against him as you walk. Immediately noticing that his grip was tight, like hurting you a bit. Due to you becoming increasingly more intoxicated you didn’t think it was that deep. He was probably just making sure you didn’t lose balance. 
“Do you like uh- maybe wanna come in or something?” you asked, trying your very best to sound slightly sober. 
“Are you sure?” he asked, still holding your arm as you unlocked the door. His voice sounded sickeningly sweet, leaning up against the door looking down at you. Feeling his breath hit the top of your head made you shiver.
“Yeah is that w-wrong or?” you said starting to feel a bit insecure. 
“Oh no, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” you just nodded your head in agreement and opened the door; the fact that he sounded so coherent made you nervous. 
“I’m gonna use the bathroom and change, do you need or can- are you okay waiting for a second?” you asked, throwing your book onto the desk.
“Take your time, no worries,” a weird feeling began to bubble in your stomach. He was never this nice to you, and his tone almost came off as passive aggressive because of how nice it sounded. 
It was when you began to change that you noticed truly how drunk you were. Barely being able to keep balance as you undress. You put on an oversize tee-shirt but as you went to put underwear on, you hesitated. Obviously due to the recent tension in you and Oliver’s relationship, you hadn’t fucked in weeks. You missed that form of stress relief and it was starting to bother you. As much as you disliked Felix, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. Taking a deep breath you throw the panties into a pile with the rest of the clothes. Checking your appearance in the mirror before walking out. Felix was sitting on the bed, man spreading with his elbows sitting on his knees. When you saw him, your heart started to pound so hard you could feel it in your ears. After examining your appearance, he began to chuckle. This made your face burn from insecurity, you asked him what was so funny and he stood up from the bed before responding. 
“You’re a hypocrite,” he said, still laughing. 
“What..?” you asked, confused and laughing nervously.
“You’re a whore. Are you actually fooling yourself into believing you invited me in for a platonic visit?” he asked, lighting a joint. 
“I don’t- I didn’t..” This wiped the smile right off your face. Your mouth and throat were dry, and your brain couldn’t come up with any coherent sentences. He started walking forwards but you were frozen in place. 
“Look at you, half naked and drunk. You look scared, like a bunny about to be taken by a hawk,” he said, smirking while continuing towards you. 
“I’m not a whore,” you said, tears again starting to sting your eyes. Now feeling ashamed and intimidated. 
“Oh? Oliver has told me some stories that make me think differently. I mean you were just fully dressed and you came back in nothing but a tee-shirt. Flaunting yourself in front of me, in Oliver’s fucking tee-shirt. God you are a piece of work,” he said, at this point he’d backed you against the door. 
Every time he drew a breath in, his lower stomach would just barely touch yours. You looked up at him with tears running down your face. Internally panicking, unable to tell if he was angry or horny. The fact that you were turned on by this made you feel like he was right. Like you were too available but that was a nice way of putting it. Feeling extremely cornered you try and push him back with your shaking arm. He didn’t even sway, only chuckled and took the joint out of his mouth. He took the joint out of his mouth and brought it up against your lips.
“I’ve never..” you began to say but he put the crutch between your lips. You take a long drag, just to cough your lungs out after. He found this reaction very amusing, nearly doubling over in laughter. His reaction turned your insecurity and embarrassment into anger. 
“You can either fuck me or get the fuck out. Seriously you’re making- pissing me off, fuck do you think t-this is?” you asked, voice cracking a bit again unable to hold back your tears. The inability to hide your emotions was making you feel even more vulnerable. He stood up and walked over to where you were pressed against the door. 
“Not until I show you how Oliver should have treated you,” he said, picking you up by your waist and tossing you onto your bed. 
He jumped onto the bed and smashed his lips against yours. This might be shameless to admit but you no longer cared about Oliver or exams or anything else. There wasn’t anything that could take you out of this moment, even the indignity that was developing. The kiss was sloppy and wild, both of you nipping and biting at each other's lips. He started kissing down your neck, lifting your shirt above your head. He raked his nails down both of your sides, stopping at your hips where his nails were breaking skin. He sat up on his knees, practically towering over you. Unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall just past his crotch, exposing himself. You were shaking with anticipation, the look in his eyes was so feral and primal that it scared you slightly. Blood was slowly trickling down your hips for how hard he was gripping. He runs his hands over the scraps, tracing blood up your sides and up to your chest. You were nervous but more excited, unable to control your trembling body. You’d never had a hookup that was so intense and you couldn’t wait for more. He wrapped his blood stained hands around your throat and brought his lips to your ear,
“Not even wearing panties, thinking with your cunt I see,” he growled, tightening his hands. Moving your arms up to his head and tangling your fingers through the strands. The harder you pulled the stronger his grip became, like it was a game. Your chest was starting to burn as black and white dots appeared in your vision. He didn’t release his grip until one of your hands dropped from his hair onto the mattress. As you were trying to catch your breath, he flipped you over so you were laying on your stomach. He crawled on top, rubbing his shaft against your ass, taking in a sharp gasp in, your pulse quickening. Arching your back, trying to press yourself against his length. He grabs a fist full of your hair, so he could whisper into your ear. 
“You stuck up little cock whore, tell me you don’t deserve him. I wanna hear you say it,” he grunted, rocking against you. Fat tears ran down your cheeks, you wanted to hang on to the last shred of dignity you had but that seemed to be far gone. You whispered it quietly, practically mumbling, In reaction to this he yanked your hair back further. Making you arch your back and an uncomfortable angle. 
“I know you’re fucking stupid but you can hear, I said say it, not whisper into your pillow,” he grunted, you let out a whine and gave into the domination. 
“I don’t fucking deserve him!” you cried out in anger and desperation. 
He then buried himself inside you. Instead of keeping you arched, he drops his body weight onto you. Using both hands to prop himself up on the mattress, one of them was still tangled in your hair. Keeping your head forced against the mattress. He was pounding into you relentlessly, it wasn’t a gradual build up of speed. Just pure animalistic force, his hip bones were piercing into you from how much passion was behind his thrusts. 
“I could tell you needed this, you’re so tight and needy,” he moaned. 
Your stomach was hot and all you could feel was burning pleasure against your walls. It felt so shameful to be enjoying being so overstimulated and degraded, at the same time you’d never felt pleasure in this way. He was breathing so heavily above you, it made your skin prickle with goosebumps. Finally letting go of your hair and using your head to prop himself up to his knees. Grabbing you by the hips so that you were in doggie style. He rubbed his hands over your sides again which stung due to the abrasions caused by his nails. Moving his blood covered hands from the hips to your ass. After smacking his cock against your dripping cunt, he lines himself up and presses into you. The immense pleasure coming from being filled made you go braindead. The only thing you could think about was chasing your orgasm. Like you were in an unbreakable trance. He grabs the roach from your bedside table and relights it while maintaining his brutal pace. Watching your ass smack against his thighs every time he bucked into you was driving him crazy. Keeping the joint in his mouth, he starts spanking the bloody handprints he’s left on you just moments before. He could tell you were getting close by how you were spasming around his length. Still keeping you somewhat on your knees, he reaches up with one hand and grabs both of your wrists. He then uses his shins to hold down your legs. After taking one last drag of the joint he presses the cherry into your lower back right as you begin to orgasm. Immediately you began to recoil in pain but even as bad as it burned, you still rode out the orgasm that you’d so desperately been chasing. Pushing your backside up in the air to meet his pounding as he came. After you are finished, let your body go limp as he rides out his climax. Once he was done, he climbed off you and gathered his clothes. By the time he’d made it out the door, you were already passed out. 
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velvetstreets · 7 months
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Something where Jack and the reader have a great sex life but the reader isn’t nearly as experienced as him and gets insecure sometimes and Jack reassures her - doesn’t have to be exact but something along those lines pretty please :))
None of the people in my writings portray the actual people I write about! It’s all a work of fiction, I have no idea how they are/act irl.
Warnings: fluff, smut, fingering (f!recieving) penetrative sex (f!receiving), swearing,
“Hey. Please don’t do that. Cmon’, talk to me baby..” Jack dipped his head down to meet your eyes, having tucked your chin into your neck, embarrassed.
You huffed, throwing your self back into the bed, throwing your hands over your face as you groaned.
Jack gently curled his hands around your wrists, pulling your hands from your face so he could look at you.
“Y’gonna tell me what’s wrong? Or am I gonna have to get it out of you another way…” he trailed off, a smirk forming on his face.
“Jack… don’t-“ you warned him, but it was too late.
Jack’s fingers dug into your skin, tickling you everywhere as you gasped and erupted in giant laughs and giggles.
“Jack!”
“Y/N!” He copied you with a sly grin.
“Fuck off!” You giggled loudly, squirming in his grip.
“Tell me what’s wrong!” He countered, smiling as he continued his tickle attack on you.
“Fine, FINE!” You gasped for air as he let up.
He laid in between your legs, chin on your tummy as you regained your breath.
“I just- hnnnnggg,” you groaned as your threw your arms over your face.
Jack waited patiently, giving a reassuring rub and peck against your tummy.
“I just feel so… inexperienced compared to you. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I just- I- I want it to be good for you too. I just- yeah, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing and I feel dumb.” You huffed your confession, arms still over your face.
“Y/N,” Jack shuffled up and removed your arms from your face, his hands cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.
“Every moment with you is good for me, it's fucking great for me. Yeah our experiences aren’t the same, but they aren’t supposed to be. Nobody’s is,” he said caressing your cheek.
“And none of that shit matters anyways. Doesn’t matter if you’ve slept with 50 people or 5 or none at all. Just because I may have technically been with more people-“ he said raising his hands to do air quotes. “Doesn’t mean that this isn’t new to me too. I mean fuck-, d’you have any idea the effect you have on me?” He questioned, leaning to plant kisses along your jaw.
“M’always afraid I’m gonna bust too quick every time you let out one of those sweet little sighs,” he mouthed at your neck.
“Or that m’not doing enough to get you there, that I’m not gonna be able to make you feel as fuckin’ deliciously insane as you make me feel when you tighten around me-“ he groaned, grinding his hips into yours; a thumb reaching down to erotically swipe at your nipple.
You let out a pleasant sigh which turned into a whine, your hand threading through his hair to tug on, resulting in a deep groan from Jack.
“Fuck baby,” Jack’s mouth found yours, desperate to feel your soft lips against his, to meld together and never separate. God he could kiss you for hours upon hours. The way he melted into you was euphoria, why would he ever wanna be anywhere else, with anyone else?
Jack's hands were practically shaking, he was electrified by your soft gasps and touch, he couldn't wait to show you what you meant to him.
"Y'make me feel jittery, like I'm on a sugar high," he groaned, kissing your neck, and down to your chest. "And I wake up every day, and can't believe you're mine. I get to kiss you and hug you," he explained.
"And fuck you-" he mouthed at your lips as he rolled his hips against yours. You let out a moan, your hips reacting on their own accord, wanting to meet his delicious bulge again.
"Please..." you whispered.
"Hm? Please what, baby?" Jack teased; you felt his grin press into the crevice of your neck.
"Please, take care of me Jack. Want it... want you, bad." You struggled to form a cohesive sentence, his roaming hands and mouth and the roll of his hips into yours were driving you crazy.
"Yeah? My pretty girl's gonna let me take care of her? Let me fuck her how she deserves? Gonna let me make you cum?" He taunted you.
"Yes, yes, please Jack-" You nodded furiously, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel him.
"Okay, princess, I got you." Jack promised, kissing your soft lips.
His big hands swept under your shirt, slowly pushing it up your body, littering kisses all over your tummy and up your chest, before taking it off. Jack let out a groan of approval, kissing you again to calm his heart rate down a bit.
"Mmh-, Jack..." your brows slightly furrowed together, tugging at his shirt. Jack couldn't help but chuckle before tearing his own shirt off.
Your hands immediately went to his torso, palms sliding up from his tummy to his chest, exactly as he had done to you. You wet your lips, ogling his porcelain skin, his chest smattered with hair and freckles.
The two of you sat like that for a few seconds, just admiring eachother, nothing but soft pants of neediness filling the room
Jack leant down and pressed a few kisses to your lips and one to your nose - making you giggle, before he continued his plan of action. You lifted your hips so he could slip your shorts off easily, to which he pressed kisses to your pooch, and one to your clothed mound. Jack stood up momentarily, pulling his sweats off before climbing back over you.
He grinned, dimples digging into his cheeks as his eyes roamed over you. "So pretty..." he exhaled, his thumb rubbing over the skin right under your bra.
You weren't wearing anything special, just a simple black bra, with mismatched purple panties. But it didn't matter. None of those details that would've plagued your mind - whether it be your inexperience with sex, your mismatched underwear, if you shaved or not, stretch marks, the way your breasts looked, - none of them mattered. Jack loved them all, he looked at you like you were the sun.
"So fuckin' pretty, angel..." he spoke as if he was in a trance. "So good," he said as he settled in-between your legs, his nose tracing against yours. Jack slipped his hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the side, his grin digging deeper into his face as he was met with your breasts. He happily leant down to give them his undivided attention, kissing, licking, sucking. One thing about Jack, he loved toying with your nipples and clit, wanting to see and feel them grow hard against his touch. "So soft, all mine..." He groaned as they grew hard, causing his dick to do the same, and continued to mouth at your breasts. He left a few hickies against your chest in his wake, before moving on.
"So smart, so funny, so wet-" he said as he slipped two fingers under your panties and ran them through your folds, wetting them with your slick. Jack pulled his fingers back, now pressing the pads of his fingers against your swollen clit.
"Oh, fuck," you gasped, your back arching, chest pressing against his.
"I know baby, I know. Feels good, huh?" He panted.
"Y-Yeah- so good," you sighed.
"Yeah? And how 'bout now?" He asked before working his fingers into your wet swollen pussy.
"Oh, god-" you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure as he began to pump into you. Jack kept his thumb on your clit, pressing hard against the little nub every time he thrusted into you.
"Fuck, Jack- I'm gonna-" you gasped as the pads of his fingers tapped against that spot in you, your pussy contracting around him.
"C'mon baby, you got it, take what you need mamas-" Jack encouraged you, unable to keep his hips from writhing against the mattress as he watched you tip over the edge of your orgasm.
Your insecurities and worries melted away as you let the euphoric pleasure wash over you. Jack slowed his thrusts, until stopping them completely as he witnessed you sink into the mattress. He gave you a moment to calm down, before he pulled his fingers out and started to place kisses all over your face.
You shivered, grinning as you pressed your face into his neck, wanting to be as close as possible.
"Y'alright?" He asked, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you so you now laid on top of him, and he laid on his back.
"Mhm, the best." You nodded as he held you. And although he gave you a phenomenal orgasm, you couldn't help but want more; and you knew he did too by the hard outline of his dick through his black briefs, but you knew he wouldn't do anything until you initiated it. So you did.
You angled his face towards yours, bringing him in for a hungry kiss, making him sharply inhale.
"Need more." You whined against his mouth.
"Yeah? My baby needs more?" Jack grinned.
You nodded before you slid your panties off, and tugged his briefs after he nodded at you.
His dick was always a sight to see. Big but not intimidating, and girthy. You couldn't help but drool a bit as you watched his sticky cock blurted out a few drops of pre-cum.
You licked at his head, earning a hiss from Jack, and you smiled; loving the reassuring feeling that he loved this as much as you did. You wrapped a hand around him, jerking his cock a few times, making Jack grunt, eyes shut and brows furrowed as you lapped at him a few times.
"B-Baby, please- not gonna last if you keep, fuck-" he groaned as you swirled your tongue around his head.
"Sorry-" you giggled before moving up to straddle his hips.
"Don't be. Just wanna cum when I'm in you." he said panting as his hands rested on your hips.
"Well, you technically were," you grinned at him cockily.
"You know what I mea- oh fuck," he moaned as you sank down onto him.
You started to grind your hips against his, working him into you more until he reached the hilt. Your arousal seeped through you, drenching his cock with you, creating a nice sticky mess against his trimmed pubes, matting them together. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone, making you throw your head back as your palms found home on his broad chest.
"Wait, wait-" you heard him say, his hands stilling your hips.
He pulled out momentarily, and flipped the two of you over, so you were on your back.
"M'supposed to be taking care of you, remember?" He smirked, planting a kiss to your lips.
Jack sat back on his haunches, dick in his hand as his jerked his cock a few times, leaning over and tapping the head at your clit and sliding the length of his cock through your folds, but not fully putting it in yet.
"She wants me real bad, huh?" Jack teased, loving how he'd almost slip into you, and then pull out and keep pressing against your slick folds.
You let out a frustrated whine, and Jack chuckled. He finally slipped the head past your entrance, slowly thrusting into your sopping pussy.
"Fuck, fuck, so warm and tight- fuckin' hell," he exhaled, nuzzling his face into your neck as he held himself up by his forearms.
Jack started to snap his hips a little faster as he felt you relax, his tip kissing your core, making you cry out as you held him closer to you.
"Jack, oh my fucking god!" You whined, threading one of your hands into his curly locks, tugging on them every time he thrusted.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you gasped, hips trying to meet his as he fucked you.
"Good girl- good fuckin' girl, taking this dick so well," Jack muttered in your ear, mouthing at your jaw as a thumb snuck inbetween the two of you to rub at your clit.
"shitshitshit, keep doing that, fuck-" you cried out. All your senses were on ten; you felt him everywhere, it made you dizzy in the best way. You felt your wetness becoming messy, dripping down between your cheeks, as it made Jack's glide smoother.
Neither of you had the ability to form a cohesive sentence anymore, only communicating through grunts, whines and moans.
You were close, the tight rope in your tummy reaching the last of its elasticity, about to snap at any moment. Jack felt it too, the way your walls hugged him only made his balls tighter, and he felt how full they were as they slapped against your ass.
"Shit puppy, not gonna last much longer-" Jack uttered into your neck.
"Cum in me, Jack, I need it," you panted.
You felt him nod in your neck, snapping his hips faster and harder, both of you just kissing the peak of your orgasms. You came first, walls squeezing his thick cock in pulses, raking your nails down his back as you moaned.
The tightness of your pussy and the sound of you cumming drove Jack to his release. His hips stuttered as he gave three sharp final thrusts, emptying his release in you with loud breathy grunts.
You stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the gentle floaty feeling of your orgasms, and feeling his cum spill from you, down your ass and over your thighs. You squeezed your thighs around him once more, reveling in the feeling.
Instinctively, you raked your nails against his sweaty scalp, making his shiver and nuzzle closer against you as he let out a "mmmm".
Jack finally brought his face out from your neck, eyes hooded and dreamy, completely in love with you.
He smiled, messily kissing you, not wanting to move from the warm cocoon you two had made.
He was about to pull out, but you locked your legs around him tighter.
"No. Not yet. Stay like this, please?" you pleaded, not wanting him to be apart from you.
"Of course, whatever you want, smush." He kissed you once more, settling his head on your chest, his arms smoothing up your back, laying his full weight on you as he let out a deep satisfied sigh.
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Tag list: @hoodharlow @moody4world @lcandothisallday @harlowthot @triplexdoublex @thinkingaboutjharlow @bbyharlow @primadxna-girl @curlyhairclub @inluvwithladybug @babyharleezy @harlowcomehome @rebelxsun @jackharloww @harlowsbby @iknowdatsrightbih
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jinnie-ret · 7 months
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9th member reader where skz are on a talk show or smth and the host is saying some uncomfy stuff abt reader being the only girl in a group of boys. the boys would be kinda passive aggressive about their replies because they cant outright say anything for fear of bad publicity and being disrespectful. i like the idea of the boys sticking up for reader in any way they can, even if they have to be sly about it so reader knows they have their back
bite my tongue
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stray kids x ninth member!reader
genre: angst
content warnings: sexual harassment (verbal)
word count: 1.6k
summary: when an interviewer decides to pick on you specifically, the boys do their best to hold back and get you out of the situation.
Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long for me to answer but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!
As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)
MAIN MASTERLIST
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You decided you hated interviews. There was clearly a difference between how they'd talk to the boys in comparison to how they'd treat you. Whether it was by completely ignoring your existence or sexualising you as the only female in the group, it made you feel awful. The gross comments that were made caused you to feel uncomfortable, yet your demeanour was too shy to fight back. Perhaps that was a good thing, you had 8 other members to defend you at all times anyways.
You were currently doing an interview to promote S-CLASS, your new title track, and it seemed to be a nice atmosphere, a nice sit down conversation where you could talk about your music mixed in with other personal questions to make it more fun. But that was the issue, it wasn't fun. It started off light-hearted, and you worried you were being sensitive and overreacting at first when you suspected the questions you received weren't normal ones, but by the expressions on the boys' faces, you realised you were right to feel this way.
"So, Y/N, tell me, what was it like getting to do a more masculine dance this time? I saw the music video and I was quite surprised at how well you did," the male interviewer started off.
You mouth visibly dropped open in shock, yet you did your best to answer, despite your nerves.
"Ummm, I think my dance skills have improved over the years, yes," you said, not able to make eye contact with the man, not directly saying anything about his prejudiced words.
You had been with Stray Kids from the very start. Yes, the public had their things to say about you being in a group with a bunch of guys, but it had been 5 years now. Of course you were accustomed to the dance style of Stray Kids. You had created your own image through your music and dance, so what if the dance moves were typically more powerful with sharper movements? You were part of the dance line for a reason.
"Our Y/Nnie did so well," Hyunjin ruffled your hair from where he was sat behind you, trying to lighten the mood as he could tell his other members weren't too happy with how you were being treated.
You turned to Hyunjin with a thankful smile.
"So, 3RACHA, you do all the producing for the group right? That's quite a unique situation amongst idol groups," the man asked the group, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief and allowed themselves to smile, grateful for a normal question.
"Ah yes, 3RACHA have been together since predebut, so we've worked hard over the years to create music that represents our group and who we are," Jisung nodded and explained.
You couldn't help but check the time on your watch, seeing there was still 10 minutes to go.
"Y/N, how did it feel having to squeeze into your outfit in the MV? I noticed it was quite a tight leather jumpsuit you wore, that must have been difficult to wear considering it clinged onto you so tightly," the man directed his question at you again, and you were taken aback once more.
"It, umm, it wasn't too difficult, yeah... I think it fitted the vibe of the song," you said, clearly uncomfortable as you shifted in your seat.
Why did you get these types of questions? The boys got asked about music, and you instead got ridiculed for your skills and sexualised by the gross man in his mid 40s.
"Don't you want to ask me about how I fitted into my outfit? I've been working out these days," Changbin tensed his arms, flexing and patting his muscles proudly as he took the attention away from you. He seemed to have been thinking the same way as you.
"Maybe you should help Y/N, she's so small and weak, you could do anything you wanted with her," the man suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you, and quite frankly, you wanted to throw up.
"Have you been working out, sir?" Minho spoke sharply and asked the man, infuriated.
"Oh yes I'm quite strong, can lift just about anyone in this room," he said. The statement of course, inferred he was challenging everyone else, yet his eyes never left your shy and nervous figure sat on the stool.
Everyone could see it. And they knew it was time for something to be done. They didn't think they could last the rest of the interview without punching the interviewer in the face. Yet, they did their best to keep their composure.
"Sorry, sir," Chan began through gritted teeth, tongue poking his cheek, "unfortunately we don't have anymore time for this interview," and he gestured everyone to stand up and follow his lead, exiting the room.
As you did so, you saw the blatantly shocked face on the man's face, Felix wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you left.
The boys were calm, until you made it to your backstage room where you had gotten ready earlier. All hell broke loose.
"What does that man think he's doing?" Changbin slammed his hand down onto the table, making you jump as you stayed quiet.
"I can't believe all those stupid things he was saying!" Minho growled, folding his arms.
"He's disgusting," Seungmin shook his head.
Chan was the angriest of them all, face of thunder as he paced the room. And yet, you couldn't help but feel bad. Surely, that interview couldn't be released now? And it was meant to help promote your new music, and because of your presence in the group, you felt like you were taking that opportunity away from them.
"Y/Nnie?" Jeongin waved his hand in your face to get your attention.
"Hmm?" you shook your head wondering what he was asking.
"Are you okay?" he asked gently, and with all the anger that was in the room, it dissipated with your calm voice breaking through it.
"I guess..." you didn't really know what to say at this point. You felt like you should have been used to it by now.
"I know that look on your face, Y/Nnie, don't even go there," Chan shook his head at you, a frown still present on his face.
"I don't want to do interviews anymore," you suddenly blurted, fiddling with your hands nervously.
"Y/N..." Hyunjin sighed, but you cut him off.
"Every time we promote something we get an interview like this that can't be put out to the public. And it's because I'm here. And then that means our music will be getting out to less people out there and-" you fretted.
"If you seriously think this is your fault Y/N," Seungmin sat up, pure disbelief seeping through his words as he couldn't believe that even with the way you were being treated you still felt guilty.
"Y/N, you didn't make that interviewer say all those gross things towards you," Felix rubbed your shoulder soothingly.
"You actually did really well to still try and answer him," Jisung nodded at you, thinking that he wouldn't have been able to have done the same thing.
"I had to bite my tongue so many times to not shout at him," Changbin gritted his teeth.
"This is why I shouldn't do these anymore, because it just ends up stressing you guys out," you felt bad, sitting down with your leg bouncing up and down.
"You're worried about us? We're worried about you, it's not fair that someone talks to you like that," Jeongin shook his head, hands on his hips.
"Y/N, here's what we're going to do. First, we're going to file a complaint against that guy. And second, for all future interviews we'll get the company to do a thorough check on if they're respectful and actually treat their guests right," Chan began, a plan already sorted in his mind for what action they could take.
"You're part of this group as much as anyone else, we can't represent Stray Kids without you there with us," Minho said like it was obvious, but it didn't feel that way to you.
"But it's always going to be the same thing. I'd rather not risk it again," you say, upset at the situation you had all been put in.
"Chan hyung already said, we can check what the show is like before going on it. That way you can decide from there, yeah?" Felix suggested, hand stroking through your hair as he sat next to you on the sofa.
"Or if you really don't want to do interviews anymore, I'm sure there's a way we can work around it. We could do more company based promotions and Div.1 can help us make our own shows?" Jisung wondered.
"No, I don't want to make things more complicated... I'll do them, I will, I just don't want this to ever happen again. It stresses me out, makes me feel all, gross," you shuddered.
"As long as you're sure, Y/N," Changbin checked in on you as everyone grabbed their things ready to leave the studio.
"Yeah, I'm sure," you mustered up a small smile, leaving with the others.
As you walked to the cars, you spoke up again, speaking louder than your normal quiet voice to catch the attention of everyone else.
"Thanks, by the way guys. Thank you for doing that."
"You don't have to thank us for that, Y/Nnie. We'd do that anytime, you know that," Hyunjin ruffled your hair, him and the rest of the boys now seeming more themselves and happier as you were leaving.
tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng
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twentyninth · 2 months
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❝ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫. ❞ hsr x reader
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synopsis. breeding kink hcs >_&lt;
warnings. breeding kink, possessive behaviour, sex, nsfw
author's note. i miss my motorcycle no joke
pairings. sampo, blade, caelus x afab/gn!reader (seperate)
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blade likes the idea of having little carbon copies of the both of you running around the house ngl. also loves, even praises the idea of getting to breed you honestly!! would out you into a mating press and everything, just so he can see your face, your hole stuffed with his cum, just stays inside for like 5 more minutes till he's soft again, just so.. yk! this time you will have his kids!
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caelus always thought he'd never get a chance at starting a family with someone, especially as someone as perfect as you. still can't believe you accepted his confession, and ended up dating. likes it better when you have both your hands pinned above your head, and he fucks you from behind. just endless pounding. likes to see how good of a job he's done with filling you up with his seed, likes to watch his flow out, just to shove it back in with his index and middle fingers<3
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sampo u sly as hell mf, always the person initiating intimacy in your relationship, not that that wasn't allowed. but for sure is the one who brings up the idea of a family, and sure enough you do agree, one day you wanna have kids too. just adores the sight of you with one of your legs on his shoulder, while his cock is busy inside you. an amazing view for him if you ask me. being able to see your pretty face, with your tiny hole just begging for more for his drooling cock to just pound it for a bit more, and of course he obliges!!!
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haiiiii ;P!!!!!!!!!1
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silkspiderrr · 7 months
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Feedist kinktober #5: Witch's brew
You lean back into the pillows as she puts the heavy flask to your lips.
"Don't worry, you just stop drinking when you're happy with your weight."
she reassures you with a sly smile.
"Pretty simple, right?"
You fail to be completely reassured, but it's too late now.
She tilts the bottle ever so slightly.
You twinge a bit when it suddenly hits your mouth, heavy and thick but perfectly smooth. You let it pool in your mouth while you work up the courage to swallow, and once you do the full experience begins to hit you.
Intense flavours unfold in the back of your throat and work their way forward; creamy, honey-sweet, nutty, flowery is what you think as you try to describe it. An unusual warm tingling sensation spreads through your mouth and throat. Intoxicating.
The next gulp is instinctual and you shiver as the flavours seem to intensify and get more complicated: hints of tea, chocolate, pine, nougat... folding in on themselves and tingling your senses. The thick, velvety substance fills your mouth and plays with your tongue. You pick up the rythm and swallow another large mouthful.
"It's good isn't it?"
Good is a laughable understatement.
You drink the liquid down with a fervor bordering on desperation. It's thick in your throat, and tingles all the way down, landing heavily in your stomach like concrete. You feel the skin of your belly brush against the fabric of your clothes and you notice how full you are. Unable to look down you feel it with your hands; round and taut, somehow already fuller than you've ever been.
"Very good" she coos.
You drink deeply and sheepishly.
The weight in your belly feels good.
The flavours seems to grow and climb, up your spine, clouding your mind, tethering on the edge of overstimulation.
"You're taking it very well."
She tilts the flask further.
An uneasiness washes over you.
You have no idea how much is too much and the heaviness in your stomach is beginning to turn unpleasant. Suddenly the sweetness is sickening and overwhelming.
You slow down as you start to feel queasy, holding your protesting abdomen for comfort. It's so much and it's so heavy and you feel like you're going to be sick.
"Don't worry, you can take a bit more."
Your stomach growls and trembles under your fingers, you briefly feel like you're going to be unwell; then with a sudden loud gurgle your mind goes briefly blank as a feeling of deep relief washes over you.
"Theeere it is..."
It's as if somebody removed a plug from your stomach and a pleasant warm feeling begins to spread throughout your whole body.
Instantly, once again the sickly sweet becomes good, the heaviness becomes comforting, and drinking becomes irresistable.
"Good, good..." She coos.
"You're doing wonderfully."
Each gulp sends a shockwave of pleasure throughout your entire body. You can't help but let your hands wander.
Your clothes are beginning to feel uncomfortable. At first you think it's the heat, but then you start to realize how tight they are.
You place your hands on your hips.
You can feel the flesh pulse with every mouthful, noticeably bulging, swelling under your fingers.
Your eyes roll back as the sensations flood your mind.
The witch laughs.
"Does it feel good?"
It does.
Tight fabric digging into warm, growing meat. You eagerly trace the roundness of your now luxurious curves, you bob the plump flesh of your developing gut, and you marvel at the unexpected heft of your body as you shift it around to get more comfortable.
"My my, don't you just look delicious!"
You keep on drinking.
You are definitely beyond the body you set out to attain but you never want this feeling to stop.
You hazily note the seams of your once loose clothes coming apart. The painful constriction of the fabric giving way to relief as buttons begin to pop and your body spills out victoriously.
"So eager and greedy!"
The witch climbs over you, resting her body on your pillowy gut to better hold the flask.
"Careful now, I don't think they make clothes upwards of this size." She teases, prodding you with her leg.
As if you could ever stop.
You wonder how much could possibly be in that bottle, it feels like an impossible amount. Could it be infinite? Could you be stuck like this forever?
You feel her pointy elbows digging into your swelling flesh, so sensitive now.
"Such a good fat plum pudding."
You feel yourself spilling out amongst the pillows, your entire body a playground for new sensations.
Wave after wave of delicious fat washes over you, each one bringing a new level of ecstacy building onto the last, swelling into a gluttonous crescendo of physical pleasures.
Suddenly your mouth is empty.
"Wow! I can't believe you finished the whole bottle." The witch says with feigned surprise.
You lick the rim to catch the last droplets.
The witch bites her lower lip and traces circles along your belly.
"Very nice..."
She grabs and squeezes your lovehandles.
"Are you satisfied?" She smirks.
You manage a modest burp before desperately blurting out the only coherent word your dopamine riddled brain can deign to conjure up at the moment:
"More?"
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mvltisstuff · 6 months
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hi!! could you possibly do a one-shot where buck and reader are flirting during the dosed episode? like they get high and are handcuffed and are just giggling and flirting and then accidental confession or something and then the next day they’re just like “i’m pretty sure we’re dating now..” thank you so so much!! this idea just made me giggle so <33
you get me so high - e.b
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summary: request
evan buckley x reader
gif does not belong to me
a/n: i adore this idea, thank you for sharing <3 i worked on this very sporadically, and i’m not the biggest fan of it but i hope you enjoy!
whoever brought those brownies in was an angel to y/n. yeah, a felony for sure, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t secretly enjoy it.
even though the whole station had been haunted by taylor and her team the entire day, all of the worries of the job seemed to vanish. buck wasn’t sure why, but he just saw everything different than he has before. nature called for him and he was more than excited to be at his job.
he just wanted to laugh at everything, each little girl in front of him was the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. he watched y/n from across the room, sitting on the floor and playing with a girl in a massive dress shaped like a pastry.
“where did you get this dress?” she asks, running her fingers down the satin on the side.
“my mommy bought it for me!”
“can she buy one for me?” y/n asks, turning her head to see the grown firefighter skipping over.
“y/n!” he shoots out quickly, jogging over to lean next to her on the ground.
“hi buck! will you buy me a dress like this?”
“only if you buy me one,” he smiles. “maybe we should put bobby in one.” he starts completely laughing at the thought of bobby in a pretty pink dress, with a sash and a tiara.
“what is going on- buck!” chim shouts. “can someone help us over here?”
“how are we not helping?” buck asks, leading y/n to just shrug. they glance over at eddie in the corner, looking at all the pageant girls like they have 5 heads. he almost looks fearful of them, swaying in his spot.
the next few minutes were a blur, and suddenly they were all handcuffed together against a wall. hen, eddie, buck, and y/n were all connected by their hands, being watched by athena like they misbehaved at school.
“ooh, you made him cry!” buck teases, looking at the tears streaming down eddie’s face. y/n just looks closer to athena’s face.
“you’re a hot cop, thena,” y/n speaks airily, just smiling cheekily at the officer in front of her.
“you guys are high as hell and you’re on duty.”
“what?” hen exclaims. “i didn’t smoke anything-“
“well you ate something! someone brought marijuana brownies into the station, so you’re all off work.”
the team just looks around in shock, not fully caring until y/n and buck start giggling once more. “just- just sit down against this wall, and do not move.” athena demands, walking away to deal with the other emergency in the main room.
y/n and buck sat fine against the wall, comparing hands and very lightly slapping each other on the sides. a few spouts of silence would happen for a few minutes while the group of stoners just watched the world pass in front of them.
“buck,” y/n whispers.
“what?” he asks.
“you’re really cute, like i just figured i’d let you know.”
“thanks, you’re a cutie, too,” she giggles at his words, throwing her head back against the wall as he just glances at her. normal, sober buck would’ve had a racing heart and nerves fluttering all over his body because she told him he was cute. he knows he’s not bad looking, but hearing it from her is when he truly believes it. now, he just figured why not? yolo, anyway.
“no, you’re like cute cute. like hot oiled up firefighter cute.”
“that means so much, y/n,” he says, the sly remark almost making his heart clench.
“i want you under my christmas tree.”
“well, i want you in an easter egg for me.”
“well, i want you-“
“can you just shut up?” eddie asks, still distressed about being handcuffed and drugged. “we get it, you’re into each other. and what happens when you’re not high?”
“i don’t remember talking to you,” buck teases, giving eddie a side eye but keeping his head directed towards the pretty girl next to him.
“alright,” athena comes back into sight. “let’s get you all home, maybe sleep off some of this.”
the next morning, y/n remembered every little thing she said to buck, and he remembered every little thing he said to her. they hoped maybe it was like alcohol, making them forget what they may or may not have said, but nope. it was clear as day. it didn’t feel as awkward, though. it felt easier. like a weight was off their shoulders after being weighed down for so long.
when they both arrived at work, the look from the other just told them everything they had to know. buck meant everything he said, and so did she. her eyes lightly wandered over his, and he didn’t even make her say anything. they both knew that those cookies made a great thing burst open.
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yuutasprincess · 7 months
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Day 5: Ino Takuma
Word Count: 1.k Warnings: Pussy drunk Ino, super sappy I love him
The building before him hardly resembled what Takuma had anticipated, it’s clean and somewhat private. In front of him stood a blank wall, its sole feature being a solitary hole positioned at hip level. With a quick glance at his phone, Takuma composed one final message before tucking it away: ‘This is where you come?’ A faint vibration emanated from his pocket, but he paid it no heed as the sound of a closing door reached his ears.
‘I don't actually go there. Just messing with you!!Have fun!!!’ Accompanying the text were a series of laughing emojis and playful GIFs, all underscored by a mischievous selfie of Gojo, his hand obscuring a sly grin. 
Sucking at his teeth he unbuckles his belt, heat flooding his cheeks as he eyes the hole, “I’m not sure... Uhm, I’ve never done this.” his cock is flaccid as he pulls himself out, embarrassment eats at him as he tries to just do what Gojo told him. Just stick your dick in the hole and let her take care of you. He can’t believe he came here.
Your voice isn't what he expected it to sound like, nothing is the way he assumed it’d be. “That's alright handsome, let me see you.” His blush travels down to his chest, body warm at the smooth tone of your voice resonating through the wall. Ino knows you’re just flirting with him; you can’t really see him but the way your words bounce around his head have his dick hardening. 
Takuma half expected to be hunched over somewhere in a bathroom, cock shoved in a hole with the writing ‘insert here’ pointing down while a stranger sucked him off before he’d pay you and tear Gojo a new one for sending him there. 
He’s thick, not the longest but his dick is so pretty, angled to the left with a long vein on the underside. You can tell he’s cute, the way he mutters under his breath when he pushes his hips into the wall has you biting back a teasing quip. Taking him into your mouth there's already an ache in your jaw, he’s heavy on your tongue and doesn’t taste unbearable like the other men who visit you. Ino’s moans quickly become your favorite sound, breathless and choked up as his forehead meets the wall. 
With Takuma growing in your mouth you swallow around the bulbous head, breathing through your nose slowly you suck his cock until he's hitting your uvula and you're gagging. Throat tight and his dick warm between your tongue and the upper ridges of your mouth, “Ah- Shit, oh my god-” When you swallow again he whines, it’s candy in your ear and you tongue at his bulging veins until he’s pulling away from you. 
Shying back to his side of the wall he awes at the way your saliva coats his cock, “I’m not sure- where do I? Um” He can’t even feel embarrassed anymore, his whole body on fire, “Can I cum in your mouth?” You laugh. And the sound is so sweet, it’s airy and has him flustered as he pushes his dick back into the hole. 
Chewing at his lower lip, Ino cries at the way you kiss his tip, closes his eyes and imagines the most gorgeous women he’s ever seen cherishing his cock. He’s a romantic. Hands clawing at his sweatshirt when you trace his veins with your tongue, fingers wrapping around his base and pumping him softly. “You’re so big, so pent up.” Takuma can’t get over your voice, mouth dry as you squeeze him in your palm trying to make your fingers touch. “Such a pretty dick, maybe I’ll let you fuck me if you cum.” 
Ino entertains the idea of knocking the wall down, he could. But if anyone ever found out how desperate he was for pussy he’d die. He just knows your cunt would feel as good if not better than your mouth. The way you take him inch by inch, tongue lapping under his head has him gripping his hair, scalp burning when you take him all the way into your throat and moan around his length.
When he cums it’s in thick ropes, hot in your mouth while you keep him still with a hand at his base and another fondling his balls, “Shit, shit- oh fuck, so good” His voice is whiny, cock still hard in your hold as you swallow his cum and kiss the long vein running up the bottom of his dick. Takumas hips ache, stomach flat against the wall as he humps the air while you move away. He hears something rip before your hands are back on him, condom between your lips as you slide it on him. 
Takuma thinks he might seriously pass out when he feels you slide onto him, you’re so wet the stretch is welcome as he fills you. “I won’t last long, sorry.” Groaning into the wall he practically cries when you start to fuck yourself back into him, his own hips smashing into the wall and shaking it as he chases after your cunt.
Ino might seriously tear this wall down if it means he gets to feel your heat, he can barely hear you over his own panting. “Shit, you feel so good” He’s flattered, your praise making him cum as he stills himself and presses his lips tight to hide the whine trying to leave him. You're still using him as if the roles were reversed and he doesn’t dare pull away. Not even when the pleasure ebbs into pain, he lets you use him until you're clenching around him and pulling away with a wet pop. 
Your voice is a whisper while he’s still starstruck, face pressed against the wall heaving and slurring his words trying to thank you, “I don't do this, ever. But I’m out in an hour if you want to really thank me.” 
When Ino checks his phone again it’s with you on his lap in the back of his car, cock aching and leaking in your pussy as you sit still. You're putting your number in his contacts when you see the notification, “Smile handsome” With a hand holding his wet chin up you wink at the camera before sending it to whoever Gojo is with a plethora of smiling emojis and an “I did!!” that’ll be left on read for the rest of the night.
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inthe-dark-tonight · 8 months
Text
Falling into My Sins
chapter one: back in the alleyway
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dbf!joel x fem!reader series- loosely inspired by the song skin by soccer mommy
chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5
summary: it’s your first night out since moving back with your dad after graduating college. while at the bar you meet an attractive mystery man and end up hitting it off. things get heated when you convince him to dance with you.
word count: 2.7k
series rating: E (18+ mdni)
warnings: no outbreak AU, age gap (reader is in their 20s, Joel is in his 40s) alcohol consumption, light swearing, slight dubious consent (things get heated while drunk), pet names (sweetheart, babe, etc.), no use of y/n, no physical description of reader.
notes: this is my first time really writing anything so i’m very nervous to post this , i've also been working on one other fic but i decided to post this first. thank you for taking the time to read and any feed back is welcome & appreciated xo <3
also thank you so much to @shatteredbaby for proof reading ily so much bby, and @pr0ximamidnight for also proof reading, letting me ramble like a maniac and helping me with ideas ilysm. i appreciate you both so so so much <3
It’s your first weekend going out since you’ve moved back home with your dad. You’ve just graduated from the Art institute of Chicago in the spring, but your lease wasn’t up on your apartment until August so you stayed near campus until then. Now that you’re back, some of your old friends from high school offered to take you out as a sort of welcome home. You’re just finishing getting ready when you get a text from your friend Aya.
We’re here!! Hurry up Dee is getting impatient!
You roll your eyes and smile. Typical. You’re a bit nervous since you haven’t seen them in about a year, but you’re sure once you’re out it will feel like you weren’t even gone. You throw on a jacket and run down the stairs, grabbing your keys as you go.
“I’m leaving!” You call out.
“Have fun bud!” Your dad shouts from the other room.
Your parents had recently divorced while you were away, so it’s just you and your dad now. You feel kinda bad leaving him alone when you just got back, but you’ll make up for it.
You close the front door behind you and run down your front porch towards Aya’s car. As you get closer, the passenger window rolls down.
“Ahhhhh you’re back!!!” Your friend, Dee, yells. You laugh at her reaction and open the back door to the car.
“Hey!” You slide in and buckle your seat belt.
Aya turns around with one hand still on the wheel. “Long time no see! Tonight’s gonna be fun,” she says with a smile.
“We’re taking shots as soon as we get there,” Dee says with a sly smile and you laugh, leaning back fully into the seat as Aya drives, heading for downtown.
As soon as the three of you find a bar, Dee keeps her promise and orders you all shots and they send you to find a booth while they wait for the order. There aren’t many people in the bar yet since it’s only nine, but it’s slowly filling up. You look around the place, taking in the large bar that runs across one wall with stools gathered around it and across from it is the booth seating you’ve sat in. There are a few high top tables scattered around the perimeter of the bar, a pool table to the right of the door next to the large dance floor in the center that’s currently empty, and the sounds of eighties and nineties rock hits filling the large room.
As you’re looking around, the door to the bar opens and two men walk in. The first man has long dark curly hair, a patchy beard, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a tan jacket and brown boots. The other man has shorter dark hair, a similarly patchy beard streaked with gray, and he’s wearing dark jeans paired with a green flannel and brown boots. He’s quite handsome, you think – broader than the first man, his frame stretching the fabric of the flannel to its limit. Your eyes flick back up to his face, taking in the curve of his nose, the crease between his brows and dark brown eyes. When your eyes meet, he’s looking right at you and you immediately glance away, embarrassed that he caught you checking him out. When you dare to look at him again, his gaze is still locked on you.
“Okay, let’s do this!” Dee says as the girls approach the table with a round of shots and a drink for each of you.
Your eyes snap away from the man’s and you smile at them, grabbing a shot glass.
“To celebrate your return home,” Dee says, raising her glass for you to toast against.
You tilt your head back letting the cold liquid slide down. You close your eyes and wince as the sour flavor with the aftertaste of vodka that burns your throat. When you open your eyes again you’re met with the stranger’s warm brown eyes on you still, a shy smile on his face before he turns towards the bar and leans on the wooden counter. You set the glass down on the table and look back to your friends.
The three of you sip on your drinks for about thirty minutes or so, talking about school and catching up on life. At some point while you were all catching up, the bar switched to playing early 2000s music as more people came in. You find your eyes wandering towards the gorgeous man every few minutes, admiring his side profile, the way his hand is wrapped around his beer bottle and his shirt is rolled up to expose his forearms.
You all finish your drinks and Aya is pulling you and Dee onto the dance floor. “Come on!! I love this song!!!”
You don’t recognize the song, but you follow them onto the floor dancing and smiling as they sing along. You find yourself looking towards the bar again hoping to catch the man’s eye, but he’s gone.
“I’ll be back, I’m going to get another drink.” You say loudly over the music.
The girls just nod and keep singing along. You make your way through the crowd that’s formed in the place and find the bar. Your eyes are still scanning, looking for him, when all of a sudden someone comes up beside you, leaning onto the bar. From the corner of your eye you can tell who it is. You turn your head and it’s the mystery man. He’s even more attractive up close, a dimple on his right cheek as he smiles down at you, slight creases next to his eyes. Your eyes travel down towards his broad shoulders and the skin on his chest that’s showing where his shirt is unbuttoned.
“Hi.” the man says while smiling down at you. His voice is like honey, deep with a southern drawl.
Your lips slightly part as you hesitate for a second “Hi.” you finally say back.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He nods towards the bar.
You shake your head in agreement.
“What are you havin’, sweetheart?” He asks.
You clear your throat. “Whatever you’re having.” You smile.
“Hm.” his lip quirks up as his eyes roam your form. The bartender comes over and he orders two beers, then his eyes are back on you. “You here with friends?”
“Yeah uh, I was out of town, I just got back so we’re celebrating.” You decide to keep it vague.
“Well,” the bartender comes back with your beers and he hands one to you. “Welcome back.” He smirks, then you both take a sip.
You can’t help but watch the way his hand wraps around the bottle as he brings it up to meet his lips. You take a few sips of your beer, eyes still locked on him, then place it back on the counter. You’re feeling a little more confident now.
“What about you,” you place your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand, looking up at him. “Who are you here with?”
He looks over his shoulder into the crowd, an amused look on his face. “My brother.” You follow his eyes to see his brother sitting in a booth with a girl, leaning into her as they talk.
You giggle then turn back to the man. You’re noticing some similar features now that you know they’re brothers.
“You two come here every weekend chatting up girls and buying them drinks?” You bite your cheek and give him a teasing look.
He nods his head slowly looking down at the bar where he’s leaning on his forearms and lets out a small laugh. “Every now n’ then.” He looks back at you, a slight flush on his cheeks.
“Mmm bit of a player huh?” You lift your brow, teasing him some more.
He’s laughing again, it’s a deep chested laugh that makes his shoulders slightly bounce. “Wouldn’t say that, haven’t had much luck recently.” He looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes.
You nod your head taking another swig of your beer “So, what do you do for a living?” You ask nonchalantly.
“Uh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I’m a contractor.” that explains his broad shoulders.
You bite your thumb and lean a little closer to him, arm brushing up against his. The alcohol is definitely taking an effect now. You’re checking him out again, and it’s not subtle. The way his shirt fits snug around his biceps, and his jeans fit his waist just right. He takes another sip of his beer and your eyes lock again.
Then suddenly a song you recognize comes on, Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado. You hear your friends squealing on the dance floor as the song starts, causing you to whip your head towards them then back to the mystery man.
“I’ll be right back.” You smile at him sweetly, finishing off your beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before leaving to join your friends.
You get out to the floor and they hold their hands out towards you, smiling and singing along to the song. You’re swaying your hips to the beat, mouthing the lyrics as you dance. Your hands are moving up and down your body, over the tights you’re wearing and slightly bunching up the short slip dress you have on. You’re lost in the music, then suddenly your eyes lock with the mystery man’s again, darkening as they watch you move. He’s leaning up against the bar, beer in one hand and the other in his front pocket.
‘Promiscuous boy you already know
That I’m all yours, what you waiting for?’
You’re mouthing the words, eyes never leaving his. You tilt your head to the side and give him a cheeky smile before moving your hands over your hips again. He lifts his hand out of his pocket, beckoning you back to him with his pointer finger. You shake your head no, and mimic his motion telling him to come to you. You turn away from him, back towards your friends, then glance at him over your shoulder and mouth, “Dance with me.”
A few moments later you feel a large warm hand run down your arm, and the back of a hand runs over the nape of your neck and down your shoulder before resting on your hips. You turn your head to look and it’s your mystery man, looking down at you with desire in his eyes. You turn around, still in his grasp, and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body flush to his.
You’re swaying with his hands on your hips now, grinding up against him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans his forehead against yours, taking in a deep breath. You tilt your head up, heavy lidded eyes scanning his face and your nose bumping his, your parted lips allowing a shared breath in the scant space between your mouths.
Then he’s kissing you, one hand on your hip lightly squeezing, the other resting on your cheek. He lets out a small groan and slips his tongue into your mouth, a mixture of mint and beer fill your senses. You gently pull the hair at the nape of his neck, causing him to let out a sigh.
“Sweetheart.” His voice sounds gravelly and deeper than before. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“Then don’t,” you say, so low it’s almost a whisper, just between the two of you.
You’re so close to him, you can feel his arousal straining against his pants as you press yourself against him.
“Come with me.” he looks down at you while trying to catch his breath.
He kisses you again, hand resting on your cheek. You nod approvingly as he pulls away. He doesn’t hesitate, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you off the dance floor towards the door. You notice his hand is much larger than yours, a little rough and calloused most likely from his job. He looks back at you a few times, and you just stare at his broad frame as you follow him. You look at the way his hair sits so perfectly, eyes wandering to his large forearms as he pulls you along behind him.
Moments later you two are outside and he’s pulling you around the side of the brick building. He backs you up against the wall, lips immediately crashing into yours. His palms rest on either side of your face, thumbs roughly caressing your cheeks like he just can’t get enough.
“You were killing me in there,” He’s towering over you, your hands clinging to his forearms.
“Was I? Couldn’t tell.” you smile slyly.
He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re somethin’ else babe, deadly.” he’s kissing you again, hands moving down your body to your waist.
You grab at the fabric of his shirt near his chest, trying desperately to pull him closer. His large hands find the hem of your dress and move up over your tights clad thighs. You moan into his mouth, heat already starting to build at your core. Moans and heavy breaths filling the air as you claw at his skin. You gently bite at his lower lip then slip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. As you lower your hands towards the waist of his jeans, tucking your fingers into the front and pulling his hips flush against yours, you feel him shudder. You let out a whine as you feel the imprint of his straining cock once again.
Then you hear the door to the bar bursting open and two familiar voices talking. “It’s okay, it’s okay, shhhh.”
You freeze as your lips leave Joel’s, wide eyes meeting his before stepping away from him to peer around the corner. He lets out a groan as he adjusts himself, one hand still on your hip trailing behind you as you near the corner of the building. Then you see Aya with her arm around Dee, rubbing her back. You stand up straight, pulling away from Joel.
“Oh my god?! What happened?” You sprint over to them.
“Oh thank god, we were looking everywhere for you.” Aya looks up at you. “Dee had too much to drink, we need to go.” She loops her arm into Dee’s. “I grabbed your things, where were you?”
Then you see her eyes wander to the broad older man shuffling up behind you and her eyes go wide. She leans in close to you and mouths “Oh my god”. You can feel your face heating up as you turn around to face him.
“You ladies need a ride home?” He looks down at you, concerned look on his face.
“Oh uh.” You turn back to Aya.
“No, we've got it covered-” she smiles at him.
“But thank you,” it comes out louder than intended. “I appreciate it,” taking a step closer to him you whisper “And sorry…”
“Don’t worry about it, Killer.” He flashes a charming smile at you.
“Killer?” You laugh at the nickname and he nods his head.
“We gotta go!” Aya yells out to you.
You whip your head to look at her, then your eyes meet his again. “Well, it was nice meeting you, mystery man.” You give him one last look and go to turn around towards your friends. He gently grabs your shoulder, surprising you.
“Wait,” it comes out soft as he whips you around to face him again. “Can I at least have your number?”
You hesitate for a moment. “What, so you can add me to your roster?” You try to hold back a smile.
“C’mon.” he looks away shaking his head, a boyish smile plastered on his face.
“Give me your phone.” He looks back at you, relief in his eyes. Then he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to you.
You type in your number and put your contact name as Killer. You hand him back his phone and quickly get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. His eyes go slightly wide, and then you’re turning away, running towards the car before he can say anything. As you grab your jacket and purse from your friend and slip into the car, you smile at him before closing the door.
You watch him through the window standing there with his hands in his pockets as the car pulls away. Your mystery man, you hope to see him again.
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ty for reading xo
tagging a few moots but np! anyone who wants to be tagged in the next one let me know :)
@nostalxgic @ilovepedro @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @jenispunk @tieronecrush @joelsversion @pedrospartner @canseethebrushstrokes @scrambledslut @isitmeulookin4 @tinygarbage <3
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Hello! May I please request #5 “Flowers” from the prompt list? Thank you! :D
Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!
Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown
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Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your mother’s voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.
You know Astarion isn’t one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, it’s the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.
By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchant’s store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.
Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others don’t seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.
“Hello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book you’re reading.
“I had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more into…clothes.”
“You thought wrong, then.” His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. “If however it were a book about clothes…I could be persuaded to be into clothes.”
Astarion can’t help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. “Leave that kind of talk to me, darling. You’re positively terrible at it.”
“At least I’m not negatively terrible at it.” You shoot back.
Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. You’re left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page you’re on.
“Aren’t night orchids our resident cleric’s favourite flower?”
“Yes, they are.” You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.
“Night orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?” He remarks.
“They also represent someone else very well.” You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Yes, Star?” You ask.
Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention you’re lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where you’re not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.
You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. “A flower wreath would look really nice on you.”
“Would it now?” Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.
“It would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.” You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. “That settles it! I’ll make you one!”
Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. He’s ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you haven’t moved an inch from your spot.
“I still don’t know what flower to use,” you chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not, darling.” He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that you’re far too deep in sleep to hear.
The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarion’s head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.
While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye — night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarion’s head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all she’d been through.
You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. It’s not the best looking flower crown you’ve ever made, being out of practice, but it’s certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonight’s dinner.
Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarion’s bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.
When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Lae’zel would appreciate such a gift.
“Do you like it?” Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.
“It’s for me?” He asks, confused.
“Yeah. It’s on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?” You frown.
“No, you placed it on my bed.” Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.
“That’s a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,” you smile. “Well, goodnight then, Astarion.”
Before he can say anything, you’ve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he won’t be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.
“You really do look pretty wearing it.”
“Why, thank you, darling.” Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, it’s lopsided.
“Concentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.”
Astarion blinks.
“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I hadn’t thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,” you huff. “I bet you haven’t thought about it either.”
“I —”
“Concentrate already.”
“As you wish, dearest.”
Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpole’s connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.
When he next opens his eyes, he’s back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.
“Thank you,” he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.
“You’re welcome,” you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.
When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets — a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled ‘Night Orchids’. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.
Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.
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rustingcat · 8 months
Text
The moment Kara heard Sam was coming to town she knew there would be trouble.
Not that she had anything against the woman, quite the opposite, she absolutely adored Sam. But her visits tend to be a bit… chaotic.
It started not long after Ruby turned old enough to babysit Esme by herself. Sam would fly to National city for a weekend, leaving Ruby at the Danvers-Olsen house for a paid sleepover with Esme, and dragged the superfriends to the nearest Bar to get them all shitfaced drunk.
Kara would not easily forget waking up on the roof of a ferris wheel once, wearing a clown outfit and hugging a pogo stick. She did forget the events leading up to that point due to the large amount of alcohol she consumed the night before.
Kara briefly toyed with the idea to visit her parents on Argo for the duration of Sam's visit, or at the very least her first night. But she hasn't seen her in so long, and with Kara's very busy schedule she decided it's a good opportunity as any to take some time off and enjoy a night out with her friends. She just hoped there would be no stumbling drunkenly into any more theme parks.
That's why she was very surprised to learn that Sam's new adventurous plan was a simple game night at Kara’s apartment.
With alcohol, of course.
Kara kept her drinking at a minimum, just enough to get some nice buzz out of it, but a far cry from a complete black out. She wasn't the only one, most participants had seemingly decided to avoid a similar fate. Much to Sam's disappointment, Kara assumed, since she kept asking them to do shots.
After a few tame games of Settlers of Catan and a round of pictionary, Sam decided to spice things up a bit. They started with a game of 'would you rather' that slowly evolved into an open question format where everyone answered the same questions.
"Favourite… type of apple?" It was Nia's turn to ask, she spent almost 5 minutes struggling to find a question before settling on one.
"Really? That's the best you got?" Sam asked disappointed.
"I was panicking! That's the only thing I could think of!" Nia said defensively, her arms raising in the air in surrender. "Do you have anything better?"
"You know it," Sam said with a sly smile.
"Go ahead then."
"Alright," Sam clapped her hands, moving her gaze from one person to the next slowly before she continued. "Not including your actual partner, who would you marry out of the people in this room?"
"And I can't choose Nia?" Brainy asked, his hands deep in Nia's hair, drunkenly caressing her hair between his fingers. He may have gotten slightly drunker than most by trying to be nice and accepting most of Sam's shots.
"That would be against the rules." Sam smiled and twisted the wine glass in her hand.
"That's preposterous!" He exclaimed. Nia's head recoiled with a small groan of pain as Brainy accidentally hit her head. "There is no possibility in the multiverse I would pick anyone but her!" He announced, Nia remembered to move her head in time to avoid the second hit.
"You're no fun," Sam rolled her eyes. "Nia?" She smirked.
"Only Brainy, of course." She proclaimed loudly. Brainy rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead while she mouthed 'Kelly' under her breath.
Sam winked to her in return, while the rest tried to hide their chuckle.
"Kelly, you're next for no particular reason," Sam turned to her with a smile.
"Nia," Kelly replied with a matching smile. "For no particular reason."
"Alex?" Sam changed the topic before Brainy could interject.
"You know, I think we could've worked out," she weaved her hand towards Sam's direction.
"Yeah, we could've had some fun," Sam smirked back at her. "Alright, Kara, what about you?" She turned to face her.
"Lena," Kara answered without much thinking.
"Well, she is rich, it makes sense," Sam said under the rim of her glass.
"Rich wife is very convenient," Alex nodded in agreement.
"I'm not choosing her because of her money." The idea of reducing Lena to her finance, a walking wallet if you will, infuriated her. She was so much more than that. Kara put down her empty glass and stood up a bit faster than she intended.
"Then why her?" Sam challenged with a raised eyebrow.
Kara blinked in surprise, was it not obvious? "Because she is amazing! She's brilliant, smart, kind and… pretty," she added with a small blush creeping up her neck. "Also a great listener and problem solver, which is important in a relationship. And-"
"Yeah okay, we got it," Alex cut her off.
Kara gave her a mocking look in response, eyebrows squinted and tongue sticking out as she walked up to the kitchen to refill her glass.
"Lena, who is your pick?" Sam continued with the game.
"Kara, of course." The way she said it, as if there were no other options, filled Kara with warmth she was not expecting. She also wasn't sure why it made her smile so much, but it did. Then again they were best friends, it would be awkward if they were not to pick each other, right?
"Hey Kara, can you get me a beer?" Alex called out.
Kara studied her for a second. "No, you were being annoying."
"Wha- Kara!" Alex whined.
"Get one yourself," Kara shrugged, and poured herself a glass of white wine.
"Kara, can you give me a glass of red, please?" Lena asked. Her voice was so soft, it sent shivers down her spine.
"Of course," Kara quickly pulled another wine glass from the upper cupboard and placed it on her kitchen island.
"Hey, I asked you first," Alex shouted in retaliation, as she finished filling the second glass. "So you're getting Lena's drink and not mine?"
"Yes," Kara answered with a smile, walking back to the living room while maintaining eye contact with her sister, knowing it would annoy her more.
"Why?" Alex challenged, squinting her eyes while maintaining the eye contact.
"Wife privileges," Kara shrugged and took her place next to Lena, shifting a bit closer to her this time before she placed her glass on the table.
Kara almost forgot about the whole thing, until a week later when Lena brought it up. They were sitting in Lena's new office, talking about her new conjoined plan for both her foundation and the newly reformed L-Corp for a new source of green energy. A top secret plan, but Lena was talking about it with so much enthusiasm that Kara couldn't help herself, asking more and more questions, eager to learn more about it. Soon after, Kara found herself in the halls of the foundation's labs, Lena excitedly telling her about the project in detail.
"This sounds amazing, Lena! But I thought this was top secret, not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you this enthusiastic, but how come I get to hear about it?" Kara asked eventually.
Lena was quiet for a moment, before she answered "wife privileges," with a shrug, her cheeks slightly pink.
Kara brought it up next, when she forced Lena to leave the office at a reasonable time. Claiming 'wife privileges' as the reason Lena has to follow her home and relax for a bit.
Lena later used it as an excuse to steal a fry off of Kara’s plate, even though she insisted she only wanted a salad. When she met Kara raised brow she simply shrugged and claimed “wife privileges.”
It quickly became an inside joke for them, a reason for them to do a nice thing for each other or an excuse to get away with stuff; like buying lunch, stealing clothes or bringing surprise pastries. Things they were already doing anyway, they just had a better excuse to do it more often.
"Hey, it's been a month since that game night," Kara said, raising her very fancy wine glass to her lips. Lena invited her to a fancy Italian place that opened recently. It was right after Kara mentioned a craving for pasta the day before.
"Are you suggesting it's our anniversary?" Lena smirked, leaning back on her chair. She didn't need to be specific, she knew Lena knew what she was talking about.
"Happy anniversary." Kara raised her wine glass and smiled. She loved how quick Lena could understand her.
"Happy anniversary." Lena raised her own glass to toss it with hers, smiling her wide smile with the dimples that made Kara all warm inside. She was so captivated by the smile that it took Kara a few moments to realise the waiter was standing right beside them.
The meal was, of course, amazing, not only because of the quality Italian cuisine, but her fantastic company. Kara always felt most like herself when she was with Lena, she wasn't sure why but she made her feel at peace.
They finished their meal, still deep in conversation, sipping the remaining of their wine when the waiter appeared. Presenting them with a complementary tiramisu with a candle and two spoons, wishing them a happy anniversary.
Kara was about to correct him when Lena thanked him with a nod and gestured for Kara to dig in. She couldn't help the goofy smile that spread on her face. Out of all the inside jokes so far, she had the feeling that that was their best one yet.
Read the rest in AO3
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mariasont · 1 month
Text
Our Minds Entwined-----------------------
ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9
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MDNI----------------------------------------------------------------
pairings: aaron hotchner x oc x spencer reid
summary: in which jason gideon's daughter joins the fbi as the newest, brightest member
warnings: implied smut, evelyn annoying the fuck out of hotch
Chapter Eight:
The coffee machine gurgled in the quiet of the break room as Evelyn filled her cup, her hands carefully cradling her favorite pink mug as the steam raised in delicate swirls. The rich aroma of the freshly brewed substance wafted through the air, Evelyn was moments from savoring her first sip when Spencer made his entrance. 
He moved with an awkward grace, his lean frame wrapped in a sweater, the morning light casting a scholarly glow on his thoughtful expression. Evelyn took a moment, as she often did, to admire the earnest curiosity etched into his features. She pivoted gracefully, a playful glint in her eye, the corners crinkling in silent laughter.
"Morning, Dr. Reid," she chimed. "Joining me for the most important meal of the day?"
Spencer offered a small, hesitant grin, casting a wary glance over his shoulder as if anticipating an unwelcome audience. When he turned back, finding the coast clear, his gaze couldn't help but sweep over her, a slow, involuntary trail from her eyes down to her heels and back up again.
"Did you know caffeine can actually increase cortisol levels?" Spencer inquired, his tone shifting to that of a lecturer as he warmed to the subject. "Cortisol is secreted by the adrenal glands and plays a critical role in regulating various bodily functions. While it's essential for survival, elevated cortisol over prolonged periods can lead to a host of issues. So, while that cup of coffee might seem like a good idea, it's worth considering the potential endocrine implications."
Evelyn closed the distance between them with a playful step, her eyes gleaming. "I love when you talk nerdy to me, Dr. Reid," she started. "But if you deprive me of my morning coffee, I won't be the only ones suffering the consequences."
Spencer's hand reaches out, almost involuntarily giving Evelyn's ass a quick, teasing tap. She arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a feigned expression of shock. 
"In the workplace, Dr. Reid?" Evelyn chided, her voice laced with mock scandal.
Spencer's chuckle was a soft counterpart to the florescent hum of the break room. Evelyn stood there, the light catching the subtle highlights in her hair, her smartly tailored suit accentuating her figure.
"Speaking of which, and presuming your neurons are adequately myelinated for the day, how about those ground rules?" Spencer's question came with a half-smile.
"I'm going to pretend for a second that myelinated is part of my daily vocabulary," Evelyn retorted with a playful roll of her eyes. "Upstairs is all clear," she tapped her temple for emphasis before taking another step towards the genius, "but after last night, I can't say the same for downstairs."
Spencer cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck as memories of the previous night flickered through his mind. "Don't start with me."
"Me? Start with you? Never," she said, her eyes dancing with humor. "But in all seriousness. This," she gestured between them, "stays between us. We can't do anything here."
She straightened up, her expression mock serious. "I'm already juggling enough with these legacy rumors. If I start adding 'sleeping with my mentor' to my resume, I'll need to write a survival guide."
Spencer's response was quick. "I can do that," he said, his eyes accusing. "As long as you behave."
"I'm always on my best behavior, sir," she declared with a sly smile, her voice trailing off as she sauntered out of the break room, "my place or yours tonight?"
Spencer's hand instinctively went to the bridge of his nose, squeezing gently as if to ward off an impending headache, the universal gesture of a man both charmed and utterly undone by the woman before him.
--
The tech lab was alive with whirring machines and the subtle glow of displays. Evelyn glided into the room, her steps light and her grin spreading. 
The hum of computers and the soft glow of screens set the backdrop as Evelyn breezed into the tech lab, her steps light and her smile wide. She found Garcia, the queen of all things digital, her dominion sprawling before her in an array of flickering pixels and streaming data.
"Hey, P! Need your magic fingers to trace a number for me. And maybe sprinkle a little of that fairy dust to make the results come faster." Evelyn says with a lighthearted twinkle.
With a flourish, Garcia twirled in her chair, her clothes a riot of color that defied that room's monochrome sterility. She peered at Evelyn over the top of her pink-rimmed glasses, her lips curling into a knowing smirk.
"Sweetie, you're radiating more energy than my entire tech setup. What's got you bouncing off the walls? Extra shot of your coffee or just high on life?" Penlope questioned, her voice laced with humor as she watched Evelyn practically vibrating through the room.
"What? No, I'm not. It's just a good day, that's all," Evelyn laughed, the sound bubbling up effortlessly.
Garcia tilted forward, a teasing glint in her gaze. "Uh-huh. You can't fool me, Miss Sunshine. You've got that 'I just got laid' glow," she pushed, "spill it. Who's the lucky guy?"
"Garcia, quit it," she giggled, brushing off the insinuation with a wave of her hand. "There's no guy. Just... work stuff, you know?"
But Garcia remained skeptical, playfully wagging a finger bedecked with a glittering ring. "Oh, come on! You've got that look. The one that says, 'I did not get my eight hours, but boy, was it worth it.'"
Laughter spilled from Evelyn, a rich sound that reverberated against the walls. "Seriously, Penelope, drop it. I'm just happy. Can't a girl have a good day without an interrogation?"
Garcia shot her a knowing glance, but she conceded with an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright. I'll let you off the hook... for now. But I've got my eye on you. Now what's this number you need traced?"
Evelyn passed a slip of paper across the table, her grin unwavering. She offered a swift thanks and retreated to the bustling bullpen. 
Evelyn's desk was a splash of color in the otherwise muted tones of the bullpen. Pink post-its fluttered like flags, each scrawled with affirmations and tiny tributes to her teammates. Amidst this cheerful chaos, Hotch stood, his hands clasped behind him as he surveyed the landscape of girlish whimsy.
At the sight, Evelyn's steps hastened, she darted forward to intercept his gaze, positioning herself squarely before him. "Hotch, sir, hi! Can I help you with something?"
Hotch met her gaze, his eyebrow lifted in mild inquiry, the shadow of a smile on his face. "I was looking for the Simmons report. You were supposed to turn in it yesterday." He tried to peer around her, amusement flickering in his eyes at the sight of her cluttered workspace. 
His eyes settled on the pen holder, an extravagant display of sparkle and faux gems. He remarked with dry wit, "Does that... fit the bureau's decor standards?"
Evelyn's smile was unapologetic as she shrugged lightly. "Mm, probably not. But it brightens up the place don't you think?" She rifled through the stack of papers, her face a canvas of sheepish charm. "About that report... I, uh, totally forgot. But it will be done, pinky promise."
She extended her pinky towards him. Hotch regarded the small gesture, his features betraying no reaction. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, but his stance was unwavering. "I'm not going to do that," he declared, eyes flicking to her upheld finger. "I expect the report on my desk by the end of the day."
Evelyn snapped to attention, grin never faltering. "Aye, aye, captain," she chimed cheerfully. "You'll have it before you can say 'bureaucracy'."
With a parting nod, he moved back to his office. In the corner, Morgan, JJ, and Prentiss stood in a tight knot, their quiet conversation floating in the air near the water cooler. 
"There's no way," Morgan asserted, his head moving in a firm denial, his eyes reflecting staunch disbelief.
"I told you soooo," Prentiss crooned, her voice dripping in smug satisfaction.
"Huh?" Evelyn's question hung in the air as she swiveled towards the group, her eyebrow arching in a silent demand for clarity. "What are you talking about?" 
"There's an ongoing bet to see how long it'll take you to really get in trouble with Hotch," JJ confesses, her grin spreading as she looked towards the other.
Evelyn's voice rose in protest. "What? I do get in trouble!" she insisted. "Did you not just see that? Or when I went rogue on my first takedown?"
Prentiss let out a soft chuckle, her eyes meeting Morgan's knowingly. "Please that was 'Evie trouble.' It's like being scolded by a teddy bear."
"And what does that even mean?" Evelyn asked, her laughter rising through the room as she shook her head.
"Baby girl, your definition of trouble with Hotch is a lot different than ours," Morgan said with a playful wag of his finger. "You barely get a slap on the wrist, while we'd get the whole paddle," he teased.
"That is so not true!" Evelyn's giggle bubbled up uncontrollably, her shoulders bouncing with each note of disbelief. She playfully rolled her eyes, dismissing the notion with a shake of her head.
As if summoned by the very topic, Rossi and Reid appeared in the doorway. They caught the end of the conversation and, with impeccable timing, chimed in together, "It's true."
"If I forgot my paperwork, I'm pretty sure I'd be relegated to coffee duty for a month--minimum," Spencer said as he gave a small, resigned shrug. 
"I'll have you know, I can get into trouble," she declared, puffing up in feigned offense. "I'm always getting under Hotch's skin."
Skepticism was written all over their faces, each look a playful jab at the very ideas. "Oh, we're sure you're a regular rebel," Morgan said, his tone heavy with irony.
"Yeah, right. They day you get a real scolding is the day I'll dye my hair pink," Prentiss declared, her laughter softening the edges of her sarcasm.
"And I'll wear a feather boa to work," Rossi added, the twinkle in his eyes suggesting he found the image as ludicrous as it sounded. 
"Statistically speaking, Evelyn, the probability of you inciting Hotch's ire is remarkably low," Spencer articulated, his brows furrowing in thought. "Considering the standard deviation of workplace interactions, it's more probably likely for an asteroid to graze our atmosphere."
Evelyn rolls her eyes, taking their words as a challenge. "We'll see about that."
Noon struck, and with it, a cast of golden rays pierced through the blinds of Hotch's office, painting the surfaces with a light hue of daylight. Evelyn, her arms cradling a stack of tardy documents, sauntered into the room. Her hair, a cascade of chestnut waves, framed her face, and her eyes, sharp as flint, scanned the room.
"Special delivery!" The announcement echoed off the walls, as Evelyn, framed by the doorway, held the papers aloft like a trophy. "The prodigal paperwork returns." Her smile was a bright flash in the subdued light.
The click of the mouse ceased as Hotch's gaze lifted slowly from the computer, his face betraying nothing of his thoughts. "Thank you, Evelyn," he uttered, each word measured. "I was beginning to think it had gone into witness protection."
The room was filled with the sound of Evelyn's giggle as she perched against the doorframe. Her smirk was a playful twist of her full, rose-tinted lips. "Oh, you know me. I like to keep things interesting. Life's too short for bureaucracy. "
Hotch's fingers moved methodically through the stack, each page turning with a crisp snap. His eyes, sharp and calculating, never strayed as he spoke. "Interesting isn't quite the Bureau's motto. We prefer efficiency."
"And yet, here I am, brightening your day with my inefficiency," she teased.
The folder landed softly on the desk as Hotch straightened, his gaze piercing as it met Evelyn's. "Evelyn, is there something else you needed?"
"Just checking on my favorite unit chief," she declared with a shrug, "making sure you're not bored under a mountain of dullness."
Hotch's eyes took on a sharper focus, an almost accusatory gaze. "I'm quite capable of digging myself out, thank you," he stated, the hint of a smile lurking beneath his serious expression. "Now, if there's nothing else, I have work to do."
Evelyn's smirk was unwavering, a silent ally as she acknowledged his words with a graceful nod. "Of course, sir. Duty calls."
--
The bullpen thrummed with life, agents weaving through the maze of desks, papers shuffled, and phones rang, the air buzzing with the collective focus. Evelyn's presence was a silent counterpoint, a different mission in mind. Her fingers sifted across the documents in front of her. With a feigned slip of the hand, she accidentally exchanged the contents of two folders. As she handed Hotch the Thompson report, masquerading as the Henderson case, she could barely contain her amusement.
Evelyn glanced up at Hotch with feigned surprise, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "Oh, did those get mixed up? That's totally on me," she said, her voice dripping with faux contrition as she sat perched on the edge of her chair.
Hotch's hand clasped around the correct folder, his gaze drifting across Evelyn's features, a wordless pause hanging in the air. It was a look that lingered just a beat too long before he finally looked away.
With a serene composure, Hotch handed back the folder, his words deliberate and clear. "Please double-check your work in the future." 
"Absolutely, won't happen again, sir," Evelyn responded.
Watching Hotch disappear behind his office door, Prentiss and JJ, couldn't help but shake their heads. "You are playing with fire."
With a playful toss of her hair, Evelyn responded, "It's what I do best." Her wink sailed across the room to the women as she swiveled back to her desk.
Later, she sent Hotch on a wild goose chase for a non-existent file. Hotch reappeared, the absence of the file evident in his empty hands and the slight crease of annoyance on his brow. His irritation was barely veiled by his professional composure and the sight stirred a warmth across her cheeks and spread through her. It was as if the air had thickened, her body responding with a clench of her thighs. 
Evelyn snapped her attention back to her task, letting out an exaggerated gasp, her eyes widening with feigned realization.
Evelyn's eyes lifted to meet Hotch's, a flutter of her lashes accentuating her apology. "Oh, my mistake. It's actually for next week's briefing. My apologies, sir."
A collective gaze tracked Hotch, the team's faces etched with a blend admiration and disbelief at the boldness. Hotch's head shook slightly as he closed the door behind him. 
With a subtle lean, Morgan caught Rossi's attention, a smirk playing on his lips. "You seeing this, Rossi?" he asked, his voice low, carrying the weight of disbelief.
"Hard to miss," Rossi mused, "she's got guts, I'll give her that," he admitted, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile, "but she's doing a great job of proving our point."
"Hey," Evelyn's whisper was a soft accusation, a conspiratorial murmur that barely reached between the three of them. "Just you wait, I've got more up my sleeve."
With a gentle head shake that sent his curls swaying, Spencer loomed over her desk. "At this rate," he said, looking down at her with an amused glint in his eye, "you're going to need your own section in the employee handbook."
--
The bullpen fell into an abrupt hush, the agents' heads turning as Hotch's commanding tone sliced through the idle banter. Without missing a beat, he looked eyes with Evelyn. "Gideon, my office. Now."
The team's eyes flickered from one to another, the collective oooh sounding more like a drawn-out sigh as Evelyn got to her feet. The air seemed to still as she offered a nod, her face the picture of innocence. With a gentle tilt of her head, she responded sweetly. "Of course, sir."
Hotch stood behind his desk, the stern set of his jaw softening despite his best efforts. His words came with struggle, weighted with disappointment rather than anger. "This isn't like you, Evelyn. Misplacing evidence is a serious offense."
With eyes wide and innocent, Evelyn held her poise, her hands neatly folded in front of her. "I'm so sorry, sir. It won't happen again."
The room felt smaller as Hotch sighed, his authoritative demeanor dissolving into a softer, more approachable one. His voice lowered, tinged with an unexpected warmth. "What's going on with you today?"
"Hotch," Evelyn burst out, the playful strain in her voice belying the seriousness of her words. "I've been an absolute terror today--don't I deserve a better scolding that that? Everyone thinks you go easy on me."
Hotch's eyes sharpened, the hint of annoyance seeping through his demeanor. "So that's what this has been about? You've been testing my patience all day because of what--some office wager?"
Evelyn watched, a spark of mischief in her eyes as Hotch's composure began to fray. The fabric of his suit jacket tensed, subtly outlining the firm set of his shoulders. His jaw worked silently, a clear sign of his growing irritation, a detail she found inexplicably enthralling. 
"See, right there!" she exclaimed, her finger jabbing the air with theatrical emphasis. "That's what I'm talking about--that's the look!"
A barely perceptible quirk of his lips betrayed him. "You're unbelievable."
Evelyn's eyes sparkled with sheer desperation shimmering within. "Hotch, can you please--pretty please--pretend to yell at me? I need to win this bet."
"At this point, Evelyn, I don't think I need to pretend."
She offered him a pout, her lower lip protruding just so, a silent plea.
He exhaled a deep sigh, a reluctant white flag. "Fine. Shut the door."
"Thank you, thank you!" Evelyn sang out, her mind already racing ahead. "Oh, wait, I need to look scared, right?" She whirled around, her hand hovering over the door handle as she caught the team's collective gaze, wide and expectant, peering through the blinds.
Hotch positioned himself with his back to the window, his silhouette casting a commanding shadow across the room. With a flourish, he gestured towards the scattered paperwork on his desk, his voice booming just enough to be heard through the glass.
Evelyn's lip caught between her teeth, an effort to rein in the giggles that bubbled over. Her shoulders trembled, betraying her struggle as she dipped her head, a strategic move to conceal from the curious glances beyond the glass.
"Evelyn, you're terrible at this."
"I-I know, I'm sorry," she sputtered between fits of laughter. "But I think they bought it."
"I doubt it."
"You're the best boss ever, Hotch," Evelyn beamed.
Hotch's head gave a slow shake, the barest hint of a smile playing at the edges of his mouth.
"Too much if I cry on the way out?" she teased, feigning distress as she inched towards the door.
"Just go, Agent."
--
The day was winding down with the low hum of the office, Evelyn glided through the bullpen, her smirk as loud as the click of her heels. She tossed a bag onto Prentiss's desk, the contents clicking softly. The bag, clear and plastic, revealed the pink hair dye inside.
Evelyn leaned closer, the bag crinkling between them. "For your new look, Em," she teased with a wink. "I want to see a brand-new you by tomorrow."
Prentiss examined the dye, eyebrow raised in playful defiance. "Dream on, Evie," she chuckled. "This going in your Secret Santa gift."
Next the feather boa found its new home around Rossi's neck, courtesy of Evelyn's hands. "This is non-negotiable, Rossi," she declared. "Your suit needs a touch of pizzazz."
"But let's be real, Evie," Morgan chuckled. "You didn't really win the bet, did you?"
Evelyn gasped, her hand flying to her chest. "Whaaaatt?" she uttered. "I have absolutely no idea what you're implying."
"Oh, come on," Emily scoffed, "we all know what Hotch looks like when he's chewing someone out. And that, my friend, was a performance worthy of an Oscar."
Evelyn's eyes widened, her act faltering under the team's knowing looks. "Oh! You know, I-I totally forgot, I have that thing I was totally supposed to do."
--
Evelyn was in her own world, surrounded by the familiar end-of-day bustle. As she slid her laptop into its case, her phone chimed--her eyes lit up, a smile curving subtly as she read the message from Spencer: My place. 8 pm.
Evelyn's gaze lifted, catching Spencer's eye across the room, a knowing look shared between them. She typed her response with haste: I'll be there. No sooner had she done so than Hotch's voice sliced through the buzz of the office. "Evelyn, my office."
She breezed in, her retort poised on her lips. "You didn't call me in here to actually yell at me, did you? Because, despite popular belief, I'm about as good with confrontation as a cat is with a bathtub. I'd probably start crying, it'd be this whole thing, and--"
"Evelyn." Hotch's voice was firm, a verbal full stop that demanded attention.
"Right. What's up?"
"Miami. Next week. A conference on behavior analysis," he began. "I want you there, presenting your research on the correlation between language patterns and criminal behavior."
"A paid trip to the beach? Count me in!" Evelyn squealed.
Hotch's reply came as a dry gust. "This is a business trip, Evelyn. Not a vacation."
She nodded, her grin undiminished. "Sorry, what? My mind's already sunbathing in Miami," she teased, twirling on her heel.
"Oh, and Evelyn?"
"Mhm?"
"The team's right," he confessed. "Don't let it go to your head."
next
taglist: @nonamevenus@aceofspades190
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vodika-vibes · 3 months
Text
Just One Date
Summary: You're a Military Doctor attached to the 212, and you've come to consider Commander Cody as a friend. Turns out, that he sees you a little bit more.
Pairing: Commander Cody x F!Reader
Word Count: 1333
Warnings: Cody makes suggestive jokes, and gets whacked with pillows and has a hand slapped over his mouth for it.
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
A/N: HAPPY 2224 Day! I came up with this idea at 5:30 this morning when I originally woke up and when I remembered what today was. There might, possibly, be a sequel where the date actually happens. It depends on people's reactions to this one.
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You’ve been a civilian employee to the GAR since you were old enough to enlist. The military wasn’t exactly your “dream” career, but it got you away from your incredibly toxic family, and it paid you to go to medical school.
And, really, at the time the odds of there actually being a war was slim to non-existent.
Jokes on you, the war started 6 months after you graduated and you found yourself bouncing from military base to military base, before finally getting assigned to The Negotiator, under General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Commander Cody.
The Commander is everything you’ve ever wanted in a Senior Officer, respectful and professional when the situation calls for it, but more than happy to share jokes with you when you’re not working.
The General, however, is a walking migraine.
At this point, you’re beginning to think that your job would be easier if you were assigned to literally any other battalion.
“General Kenobi,” You say as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “Did you, perhaps, skip your basic first aid lessons as a child?”
Helix, working on Commander Cody at the bed behind you, doesn’t bother to muffle his laughter, but you tune him out with the ease of long practice, instead pinning your General with an accusing glare.
“Well,” General Kenobi rubs his chin thoughtfully, “I was a very busy padawan-”
“So, perhaps, you skipped the basic first aid classes that say when you get stabbed, do not remove the stabbing implement?” You interrupt.
“Well, I wouldn’t say that I skipped the lessons-” He demures.
“And your reasoning for ignoring Commander Cody’s very reasonable order to not remove the knife from your thigh?” You ask.
“...uh…I was in shock?”
You smile. It’s a nice smile, and you’re pleased to see General Kenobi slump on the hospital bed, “Well, since you ignored your Commander’s very reasonable, and correct, order. You’re going to spend the next three days in a bacta tank.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to use bacta tanks as a punishment.” General Kenobi says thoughtfully.
“I don’t think you’re in any position to argue with me.” You counter with a roll of your eyes. “Relax, General. It’s not a punishment. You’re more injured than you look. And maybe you can get some sleep if I drug you enough.”
General Kenobi sputters, “Commander! Are you hearing this?”
“Hm? What? I’m not listening.” Cody says with a sly smirk.
“Well, there you have it. The Commander’s on my side.” You say brightly, as you spin to grab a syringe of the sedative that was especially formulated for Jedi. “Good night, General.”
“This is mutiny,” General Kenobi says with a frown.
“Yes, yes. I know.” You inject the liquid into his IV, “We’ll see you in a couple of days.” The older man slowly drifts off to sleep, and you pass the General over to the men who can get him into a bacta tank easier than you.
And then you spin on your heel and move over to Commander Cody, who’s laying on his hospital bed very peacefully, a small grin playing on his lips. “What’s wrong with you?” You ask, as you grab his file and scan it.
“Well, I was blown up, mesh’la.” Commander Cody says blandly.
“Well, that was silly of you. Why would you do something like that?”
“I woke up this morning and thought, ‘how can I make my medics pull their hair out today?’ and decided that getting blown up was the best way to go about it.”
You smother your laugh and glance at him, “One of these days Helix is actually going to kill you.”
“But you’ll protect me won’t you?”
“Of course.” You wink at him, “Everyone knows I’m the scary one.” You scan his record for a moment, and then favor him with a smile, “Aside from some bumps and bruises, you look totally fine.”
He grins at you, “So you like how I look, do you?”
You sigh, “Commander, that joke got old within a week of working with any of you.”
Cody just laughs and sits up, “Come on, Doc. I won’t tell. We both know that I’m the most handsome.”
“One of these days,” You counter as you set your hands on your hips, “I’m going to buy a box of chocolates and address it to ‘the most handsome man in the 212’ just to see who wins.”
“Aww, mesh’la, you don’t have to buy me chocolates.”
“Ooh, someone’s cocky.”
“You have no idea.” He flashes a boyish grin, “I could show you, if you like.”
You squint at him, “What?”
“Just how cocky I am.” Cody clarifies with a sly grin.
Your jaw drops and your face burns, before you grab the thin pillow and smack him with it, “Behave!”
Cody laughs, as he fends off the pillow, “What? I just repeated what you said. It’s not my fault that your brain lives in the gutter.”
“Rude. Rude!” You huff, “I changed my mind, I’m not going to protect you from Helix. RIP Commander Cody. I knew you well.”
“C’mon mesh’la,” He teases, “Having a dirty mind is a boon. Well, I think. Especially if it’s dirty about me.” Cody reaches out and lightly grips your hips, tugging you closer.
You scowl at him, though it’s really more of a pout, “You know, there are almost 2 million men identical to you-”
“Yeah, yeah. But you don’t have dirty thoughts about them.” Cody replies confidently.
“You’re so sure of that?”
“Yup.”
You shake your head, “Come on, Commander. You’re hardly a mind-reader.”
“I don’t have to be. I see how you look at me.” He says with a smirk.
“And how do I look at you?” You ask sarcastically.
Cody’s smirk grows into an amused grin, “Like you wanna drag me into a supply closet and ri-” You slam your hands over his mouth.
“Okay! Thank you!” You yelp, your face burning. “Why do people think you’re the mature one?” You bemoan.
“Because I play the part well,” He says smugly, his voice muffled by your hand. 
“Can I remove my hand or are you still going to try and embarrass me?” You ask.
“I like it when you get all embarrassed, it’s cute.” Cody replies before he pulls your hands away from his mouth, and then presses them to the bed next to him without releasing them.
“Hm, you seem to have forgotten to release my hands.” You say dryly.
“I didn’t forget. I did it on purpose.” He says, his dark eyes scanning your face.
“And why would you do that?”
“Go on a date with me.” Cody says.
You blink at him, startled. “I beg your pardon?”
“One date,” He clarifies, “That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Commander-”
“Cody.” He interrupts, his gaze serious, “One night. Let me show you how good we could be together.”
You avert your gaze for a second, and you know that he can feel your heart racing with how he’s holding your hands still. “Commander, we’re not going to be returning to Coruscant for several months-”
“Cody, and I don’t care. I can woo you even on the Negotiator. Give me a chance.”
“And if we don’t go well together at the end of the night? What then?”
“We’re going to be great,” Cody counters, “But, if,” He rolls his eyes, “For some reason, we don’t work out, then nothing will change.”
“Com-”
He tugs your wrists so that you topple against him, “Cody. My name isn’t that hard, is it?”
“...Cody.” You finally say with a sigh, though there’s a small smile playing on your lips, “I suppose, since you’re so eager, I can agree to a single night.”
“There's going to be more than one.” Cody says confidently. 
You hum thoughtfully, “Prove it.”
He grins at you boyishly, “I can do that. I already have the whole thing planned.”
“...How?” You ask, exasperated.
“I’m very good at what I do.” He replies smugly.
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yuquinzel · 11 months
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loving reo mikage is something juvenile— like i love you’ s on post-it notes, stealing sly and shy glances in class. like pebbles hitting your window at night and whispers in your backyard. and even after years, it hasn't really changed.
it's still evident in the way he's pouting right now, but at the same time, can't really hide his growing smile.
“accept defeat,” you smirk, “i won fair and square, reo.”
“no, you didn't. I sent the text first— fuck my wifi, I'm gonna sue that company.” he urges, flashing his mobile screen at you to emphasize on the fact that it was indeed him, that sent the “morning, i love you :)” text first.
it's a little morning routine of yours— a competition of sorts to see who sends the good morning text first. they get bragging rights and the perks of choosing what series to binge watch for the day. it's only valid if you follow it up with an “i love you”, though.
“ooh,” you coo, “sounds like a you problem.” you bring a hand to brush back the lilac strands reo lets free on mornings like these, he leans and melts into your touch out of instinct.
“this is really unfair,” reo sighs. this is going to be an unpleasant dent in his winning streak for the past three weeks. “i set my alarms for five minutes earlier to send the text first."
you would be lying if you said you were surprised. to reo, giving in the extra effort is only natural. it's one of a kind— something you can never capture the essence of in just words. he does it because he can. because he wants to.
you know because even when he's been winning for the past weeks, somehow the series he picks to binge watch are always the ones you have casually mentioned wanting to watch. reo doesn't seem to realise that you notice, but that's what's really charming, isn't it?
your heart skips a beat nonetheless, “looks like it was my day today, i get bragging rights.”
“yeah, yeah. brag away, you only have today.” but he's smiling, “i'm gonna set an alarm for twenty minutes earlier.”
“my goodness,” you breathe, “i didn't know you had such a huge crush on me, reo.”
he pouts, “i literally tell you that everyday.”
“that's embarrassing,”
“it may be embarrassing but at least I'm happy.”
“you're happy having to wake up at 5:40 just so you can send a text first?” you laugh.
he mirrors it, “best moment of my day.”
“you're down bad, mikage.” you roll your eyes.
“you're the same. otherwise, you wouldn't be sending me these texts at 6 am.” reo hooks his arms around you, letting his head fall on your shoulders. the way he holds you is always the same— with a sense of safety, firm and protective but warm like a second blanket. it feels like home.
“guess i am.” you smile, a newfound bliss in your eyes.
although reo hates losing, this time he feels like he's won.
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
@rinnahhhh / blue you have the craziest and most romantic ideas please never stop :')
this is purely self indulgent therefore super short because reo is the best boyfriend in blue lock fite me :P
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slytherinshua · 6 months
Text
SWEATER PAWS
genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. pairing. jaehyun x fem!reader. wc. 650.
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It had become an unspoken ritual that you and Jaehyun would cuddle after lunch. Even if he had a schedule right after, he would set aside at least 5 minutes of his lunch break to cuddle with you. It was like an energy boost for him, and you savoured the time even more than he did— it helped to not miss him too much during the rest of the day.
Today however, he didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day. You had already settled on the couch with him, his arm around you, resting at your waist and making sure you were snuggly close to him. You rested your head on his chest, occasionally glancing at whatever tiktok he was watching on his phone before going back to scroll on instagram. 
It was cosy.
It was comforting.
But you still felt… ignored?
This was the first time Jaehyun had been free for almost 2 weeks but he was still glued to his phone. You closed instagram to snuggle a bit closer to him in hopes of getting his attention, but his focus stayed on his phone.
You waited another minute before trying again, this time sighing louder than you usually would. All you got was a gentle rub on your arm before his hand went back to your waist.
At least it wasn’t nothing.
“Jae?” You sat up a bit so you were at eye level with him.
“Hm?” He scrolled to the next tiktok, his eyes still not looking at you, depriving you of the attention that you were practically begging for.
You only had one more idea up your sleeve. There was only one thing you could think of that was certain to get Jaehyun’s attention no matter what. He wouldn’t be able to ignore you after this.
You silently leaned your head forward to plant a lingering kiss on his cheek.
You couldn’t hide your growing smile at the reaction that you got from it— exactly the reaction you were hoping for. His phone slipped out of his hands onto the couch cushion next to him as his cheeks tinted a slight pink and he finally turned to look at you.
“What was that for?” He whispered shyly. His fingers were pulling at the sleeves of his sweater, creating sweater paws subconsciously. It was a habit he wasn’t even aware he did, but you noticed it whenever he was flustered and was wearing a long sleeved shirt or sweater. 
It was the most adorable thing you had ever seen.
And Jaehyun was possibly the most adorable human to ever exist. 
“Just wanted to get your attention.” You smiled, contended now that you had gotten a reaction out of him. You went back to laying against his chest, a sly smile on your face. You were certain that he wouldn’t be able to go back to watching tiktoks. The thing with Jaehyun was that he was never satisfied until he got a proper kiss on the lips. You counted to 3 in your head, and just as you had suspected, Jaehyun spoke up after the small pause.
“You’re really gonna just leave it at that?” 
You glanced up at him again, suppressing a giggle when you saw the small pout. 
“What? Are you not satisfied?”
He shook his head with a slight smile, pleading with his eyes for you to give him what he wanted. You loved to tease him when you had the willpower to resist his big boba eyes and lips downturned into a pout, but today your usual will to resist was mysteriously gone. 
So you found yourself giving in immediately— pulling at his sweater paws to close the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his gently. He hummed satisfiedly at this, the faint taste of your strawberry lip gloss leaving a sweet stain on his lips afterwards.
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