#does the tone come across? can you tell that I'm having fun with this?

[egginfroggin]

My greatest crime with the Mistborn AU isn't that I sent Ingo to Hathsin, or that his grief from coming back to find Emmet gone is manifesting as a do-or-die determination to either kill the Steel Inquisitors like they (supposedly) killed his twin, or even the fact that I made Emmet himself an Inquisitor.

It's the fact that I made Emmet an Inquisitor and deprived him of his hair as a result.

It's not the big metal spikes through his eyes and out the back of his skull or the fact that Ingo has unknowingly painted a target on his own twin's back, it's the fact that Emmet lost his signature Submas sideburns.

Absolute travesty.

#mistborn au #submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #pokemon #egginfroggintalkin #eggin's writings #I realized that the steel inquisitors are all clean-shaven and immediately went 'but the sideburns' #Ingo may be messed up and deep deep in grief but at least he has his sideburns #Emmet is unrecognizable between the lack of hair and eyes and that's sad #wouldn't it be a shame if Ingo couldn't recognize him oh gee that'd be too bad if they clashed #aw poor guys that'd really be terrible #tsk tsk a real tragedy #dropping backstory that I haven't put into a post of its own yet give me a bit and it'll be explained #does the tone come across? can you tell that I'm having fun with this?

[romantichomicide95]

⋆̩MEGUMI FUSHIGURO | no nut november

wk-> 2.3k

summary: megs tries to do no nut november, does not last a month. sort of has multiple parts.

warnings: nsfw. 18+. oral (f!receving), p in v sex, fem!bodied reader, agedup! to 20, domestic vibes.

"I'm just saying Gumi, I don't think you can do it." You say as you look at him across the table. He's engrossed in his book, holding a fork in his other hand, and seems unbothered by the topic of conversation - No Nut November.

Yuji was the one that brought it up of course, said they should have a little competition. Megumi, of course, told him he was an idiot. Then when he brought it up to you, you dared to tell him you didn’t think he could do it.

He rolls his eyes, dismissing the idea as foolish. Games like that are stupid, he thinks, and only idiots partake in such childish behavior. Idiots like Yuji. First of all, he could totally last a whole month if he wanted, it's not a big deal. But why would he? There's no reward at the end, no gold medal that says 'good job for not getting off'.

Megumi looks up from his book, his blue eyes scanning over your features. He raises an eyebrow as if to scoff at the very idea. "Why would I want to participate in something so... juvenile?"

You chuckle, shaking your head and playfully nudge his shoulder from across the table. "You're missing the point, Gumi. It's not about the challenge itself, it's just about proving that you can do it. It’s all in good fun.”

Megumi scoffs, rolling his eyes before putting his attention back to his book. "I'll pass on this one, thanks. I've got better things to do than worry about my... self-control."

“I mean…if you don’t think you can do it then just say that Megumi. It’s okay…I couldn’t resist me either.” You tease. If anything you know your boyfriend. He may be quiet, reserved, kind of a typical broody boy, but he often found himself unable to resist the need in his pants whenever you touched him the right way or kissed him in that spot that drove him crazy.

He looks up at you, closing his book and giving you his full attention. You’re wrong, he can do it. It’s really not that big of a deal. Besides, it’s not like you’re fucking irresistible. Okay, maybe he’s fooling himself with that one…but still, he likes to think of himself as having full control over such things. He can last a month, it’ll fly by anyway.

“Whatever, fine I’ll do it. Just so I can prove you wrong. But don’t come begging me when you get all worked up.”

—————

It’s been one week. One entire week where Megumi hasn’t touched you, or even tried to touch you. You weren’t exactly sure how he was doing it, but it was starting to drive you crazy. You tried taking care of yourself. But with every brush of your fingers against your needy clit the ache for his touch seemed to grow.

Frustrated, and to be quite frank extremely fucking horny, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You wait until he comes back from a mission one night. He’s exhausted, maybe too exhausted to remember the challenge. As you both sit on the couch, you can't help but notice how tired and drained he looks.

You decide to make your move, leaning in close and whispering seductively in his ear, "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately.” You say, running a finger under his shirt and tracing his abs. “I bet I could help you relieve some of that tension."

Megumi's eyes flicker open. He swallows hard, his breath hitching slightly as you continue to trace your finger over his toned body. "I... I don't know if that's a good idea right now," he says, you can hear the need in his voice as he darts his eyes away from your gaze.

You smirk, leaning in closer. "Why not? I can make you feel good Gumi." Your voice has a sultry tone to it, the one that you always use when you want his reserve to crumble.

He sucks in a breathe, adjusting his pants before inching himself slightly away from you. This is harder than he thought, but than he remembers you’re teasing from last week and the stubbornness in him takes over. "I'm committed to the dumb challenge that you, by the way egged me on to do.”

You can't help but feel a pang of disappointment. You were so sure that your seduction would work. Usually it doesn’t take long but it seems Megumi is more determined than you thought. With a sigh, you pull away from him, standing up and adjusting your clothes. "Fine. Have fun with your challenge," you mutter, walking away in frustration.

—————

Two and a half weeks, on the dot. That’s exactly how long it’s been since your boyfriend has touched you. At this point you’d completely given up on your seduction. You’d tried every trick in the book. Straddling his lap, kissing the spot behind his ear that drives him crazy…you even asked him for a massage which led to…well him just giving you a massage.

It actually had you confused. Surely he’s been horny? You knew he was pretty good at self-control when it came to pretty much every aspect of his life. But sex? I mean he’s not some ravaged sex maniac, like his best friend who lasted all of one day in the challenge, but he’s got a pretty high sex drive given his reserved demeanor. You actually had a pretty active and, if you did say so, amazing sex life. So for him to go this long without even so much as a word? It wasn’t making any sense.

So, here you were, given up on trying at all. Instead you were preparing for a movie night. Clad in his t-shirt and only a pair of pretty pink panties given the heat wave going through your city. You were standing in the kitchen now, waiting for the popcorn to pop and unbeknownst to you Megumi’s eyes hadn’t left your body.

He thinks you did this on purpose, sure it’s hot out but you know how much he loves the way those panties hug your ass cheeks. How crazy he goes when you wear his t-shirt with no bra underneath. It always gave just enough of a peek at your perky nipples and the thought of rolling one of those perfect little buds on his tongue has his cock straining against his pants.

Yeah, you must have done this on purpose. Prancing around, showing off that sexy body of yours. You keep reaching for things in the cupboard and then his shirt lifts up ever so slightly, revealing the curve of your hips. God, it’s driving him crazy. You’d been driving him crazy all week, everything you did was in some way absolutely and utterly sexy. The way you ran your hands in his hair as he lays on your chest, tired from a long mission. The way you pout your lips when you tease him, or rub your ass against his body as you cuddle at night. And of course the fact that no matter what you do you always looked so utterly breathtaking that it drove him mad. Every single thing had made him want to forget this stupid challenge and plunge his cock into the lush walls of your pussy.

As the popcorn finally starts to pop, filling the room with its delicious aroma, Megumi can't control himself anymore. He slowly gets up from the couch. You hear his slow footsteps behind you but before you can react he wraps his arms around you from behind, his body pressing against yours. His hands rest on your waist, his fingers just barely brushing the sides of your panties. His thumb rubs slowly against the skin of your thigh and the subtle touch alone sends shivers through you.

You can feel the hardness of his erection against your back. Megumi leans in close, his breath warm against your neck. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his lips to the space between your shoulder and your collarbone. “You’re making this so hard...” He says, his voice hoarse like he’s trying hard to control himself.

You turn to face him. His hands don’t leave your sides as you look up at him. “Making what hard?”

“Not touching you, when you walk around looking like…this.” His eyes trail down your body, before he leans down brushing his lips against yours.

“Than touch me.” you whisper as you connect your lips with his. It’s not like you haven’t kissed this whole time, but something about his kisses now are primal, hungry…like he’s kissing you for first time. And you’re elated, you’d wanted him so bad…needed him.

He deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping your hips. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling with yours as he lifts you up. You can feel the growing heat of his body against yours. His erection clearly evident through his pants. "I want you." he whispers between kisses.

He carrys you back to the couch, laying you on your back, one arm on either side of your body holding himself up. He looks at you, as if he’s soaking you in before he leans down to kiss you again. He pulls his t-shirt off of you over your head, leaning down to kiss from your collarbone down to your chest, before he takes a bud in between his lips, his tongue darting around it causing a moan to escape you. It’s just as he remembers, hard bud against his tongue. The feeling always making you so wet for him.

His lips then begin to trail down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He reaches the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into them, pulling them down from your body. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he continues his descent. “Stay still.” He says.

He pushes your legs apart, his tongue tracing along your folds. You reach down, lacing your fingers in his hair, giving him the initiative to push forward. Using his tongue, he goes in deeper, teasing you before dipping in fully to lap away at your sex. His tongue works the magic only Megumi’s tongue seems to have, circling around your clit in short, sharp flicks, dipping down into you then flickering back out. His mind goes a bit wild as he tastes your juices against his tongue and lips, it drives him almost as crazy as it drives you.

“Fuck-you sound so pretty.” Megumi’s cock throbs in his pants listening to the whimpers and moans only he can pull out of you. It’s been so long since he’s tasted you, smelled you, had your hands in his hair eagerly egging him on. His cock strains against his pants and he grinds against the couch, chasing any sort of friction as he pulls orgasm out of you. You grip his hair as you cum, with one moan of his name and he wastes no time licking up your juices. He savors the taste, two weeks away and he’s practically feral just from the sweet nectar. Then he’s back hovering over you again.

His lips meet yours, the sweet taste of your juices still lingering on his tongue. He kisses down your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth. He stops momentarily to discard of his shirt before his lips are on yours again. He teases your clit with a finger, then another, coating them with your slick.

He can’t take it anymore, not when your soft whimpers are singing directly in his ear. Not with the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, he’s so desperate for you to clench around his cock you don’t even notice how quick he is taking his pants off until you realize the tip of his dick is softly rubbing against your clit.

It’s just the tip and you’re already moaning, fuck you missed his cock and the way it so deliciously filled you up. Your moans egg him on, he closes his eyes momentarily as he pushes in slowly, a low grunt leaving his lips as he feels your pussy clench around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse. His thrusts become faster and harder as he loses himself in the sensation of your walls around him, nails lightly digging into his shoulders.

His cock slides in and out of your wet heat, the room filled with the squelching sounds of your pussy milking his cock. He grips your hips, lifting them slightly off the bed so your back is arched as he drives his cock deeper and faster his hips moving rapidly against yours.

You reach out for him and he laces a hand with yours, your back falling back down to the bed as your fingers lace together. He looks at you for a second, drinking in the sight of your beautiful naked body below him.

He leans down and kisses you rough. “Don’t think I can last much longer.” He says, his face buried in your neck. You squeeze his hand as a sign that’s it’s okay and somehow the tenderness of your touch pushes him to the edge. “I’m….” he can’t even say the words before his cock twitches inside you. His cum filling you up. He grunts one last time, his face still buried in your neck.

He doesn’t move for a second, collapsing on top of you. He just wraps his arms around your body, holding you close before he moves to kiss you on the forehead.

A smile plays on your lips and you brush a sweat piece of raven hair from his pretty blue eyes. “I knew you couldn’t last the whole month.” You say with a light giggle.

He falls back down on top of you, burying his face in your neck once more and groaning. “Shut up.”

tagging: @withthegraceofthewind @belfiguevel @chilichopsticks @nobody289x @rlvsmegumi @cassiefromhell @yihona-san06 @thebigcheez

#megumi x reader #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #megumi x reader smut #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk megumi #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader

[luveline]

if you're still taking them I would love to make a request for Eddie and Roan! do you know how sometimes little kids will call their parents workplace just to talk about the most random things or just ask some totally super important question? I feel like roan would do that with the reader and Eddie

thank you for your request!! eddie and roan —roan learns how to use the phone, 1.3k

Eddie used to feel nervous when the phone rang for him at work. "Call for baby Munson!" shouted across the shop while Eddie was usually flat on his back under a truck or elbow deep in a scooter engine, he'd get this pit in his stomach thinking something was wrong. 

It was usually daycare. Roan's sick, Roan's wet herself and her spare clothes aren't here, is Roan allergic to veggie sticks? Because she's saying she is. 

But nowadays, a phone rings for him and it's almost always you with something nice to say. You miss him. You've been thinking about him. All manner of gooey soft confession that has him clutching the phone like a loser, desperate for your voice. 

He springs away from his lunch when he's called. Darwin gives Eddie a funny look as he passes the phone. 

Eddie shrugs it off. "Hello?" he asks. "Y/N?"

"It's me!" 

Eddie feels his eyebrows leap up. "Hi, me." Roan hadn't ever used the phone unassisted, to his memory. "Where's mom?" 

"She's trying to fix your hair dryer." 

Eddie hears it, then, the roaring blow in the background. "Why does it sound like that?" 

"She dropped it. I think she's sad." 

"Ro, I fixed it!" you shout, followed by an even louder howling of air, and a heavy silence. "Okay, I didn't." 

"Is that why you called me?" Eddie asks, bemused.

"No, I called you because I want to know how they make corndogs. How do they get the hot dog inside of the corn, dad?" 

Eddie puts his hand on the wall to steady himself as he laughs. "You wanna know how they make corndogs? Are you gonna make some?" 

"I could if I knew how!" she stresses. "I'd ask mom, but she's pre-oc-u-pied."

"That's a big word, babe, where'd you learn that one?" Eddie asks, impressed. 

"Dad, corndogs!" 

"Right, right. Okay, well. They put the hot dog on the stick first, and then the corn part is actually batter. They roll the hotdog around in the batter and cook them together in the fryer. So it isn't the hotdog going into the corn, it's actually corn going on the hotdog." 

"Batter like for cakes?"

"No," he laughs fondly. "And it's not sweet corn, babe, it's something called cornmeal. Maybe we can make some this week, wouldn't that be fun? Then you can see how they make them for real. I think that would be super fun."

His bubbly tone attracts the attention and subsequent laughter of his colleague. He throws them all the bird, totally content and more than happy with his life and his curious girl. 

"Yes," Roan cheers, dragging the 's' syllable until she's out of breath, "oh my god that would be so fun!" 

"Okay, then that's what we'll do. Are you being good for mom?" 

"I'm being awesome." There's a weird crunching noise. "Did you hear that? I think she put the screwdriver in the hairdryer again." 

"Again?" Eddie asks worriedly. 

Roan must put the phone down. Eddie genuinely can't hear a thing, until you pick up the receiver and say, "Hallo?" 

"You blowing up the house?" 

You make a pleased noise that has his heart doubling in size. "Hi, Eddie. I'm having a technological mishap, but rest assured, we are in no danger of explosion. Anymore. What did you call for? It's lunch, isn't it?" 

"Actually, Roan called me. She wanted to know how to make corndogs." 

"You do know everything," you say. "Go and eat your lunch, baby. We'll still be here when you get home, yeah? I love you. Roan, come and tell daddy you love him before we hang up." 

A small silence. "Dad?" Roan asks. 

"Yep, still here." 

"I love you, okie dokie? Please come home in an hour."

Eddie laughs warmly. It's more like four hours, but whatever she wants to think is what he'll tell her. "I love you. Tell Y/N I love her, too, will you? Thank you." 

"Yes!" Her voice comes quieter, "I love you," Roan says to you. 

"I love you, too. Let's make dinner." 

You must think he's said goodbye, because the phone gets a knock and the dial tone sounds. 

—

You're sitting at your desk shovelling pretzels into your mouth while you click around your emails when the phone rings. You slide it between your ear and shoulder, pausing your frankly messy chewing. "Hello and good afternoon, Y/N L/N speaking, how can I help?" 

"Y/N?" Roan says worriedly.

"Roan? What's the matter?" 

"Oh, it is you! It didn't sounded like you at first, that's weird." 

"Sorry, gorgeous, I was using my voice for fancy grown ups."

She giggles like this is the funniest thing you've ever said to her, "You're being funny," she praises. 

You're secretly incredibly pleased. Making your six year old laugh never gets old. "So nothing is wrong, then? You know, those numbers on the fridge are for emergencies." 

"This is an emergency." 

"Yeah, I bet. What's going on? Where's dad?" 

"He's making toffee cake for you. I was helping him do the buttercream but my arms got tired from whisking." 

"Is that why you're calling me?" 

"Yeah." 

You dig for a saltier pretzel and chew thoughtfully. "What's the tiredest part? Your shoulders?" 

"And my fingers." 

"Asked daddy to kiss 'em better?" 

"I would but he's trying to be perfect about the cake. It looks yummy." 

"Did you get to lick the bowl?" 

"Yeah, and dad let me eat a spoon of the melted chocolate. It was pretty great." 

You grin into the receiver. "I bet it was amazing. Maybe you can try and rest your poor arms. Make daddy pour you a big glass of cranberry juice with the heart shaped ice cubes and watch TV until I come home, okay? That's an order."

"Okay," she laughs. "When are you coming home?" 

"I can leave in about twenty minutes, and the drive home takes another twenty, so…" You check the time on your computer. "I think by five." 

"Ugh, that's forever away." 

"I know. Do what I said, okay? Sit down on the couch. I can have a little look at your arms when I come home, maybe we can have a pamper night tonight. We can use some of my fancy lotion and rub it in like a massage," you say. 

"That sounds nice," she hums. 

"Alright, sweetheart. Listen, can I talk to dad before I go back to work?" 

"Yep, yep." You know what's coming as soon as she inhales. "Daddy!" she bellows at the top of her lungs, "Y/N's on the phone!" 

It's flattering how swiftly he gets there. "Hey?" he asks. 

"Hi, do we need anything for me to grab on the way home? I know you ran out of deodorant, was there anything else?" 

"Nothing I can think of. You okay?" 

"I'm awesome. I told Ro you'd make her a big cup of juice for her sore arms." 

"She told you about those, huh?" He kisses her audibly. "She's the best mixer ever. I was thinking we'd change her name to kitchen aid." 

You choke on a pretzel. Coughing, you laugh through a chastisement. "You leave her name alone. Roan is a nice name all by itself." 

"If you insist," he says grandly. "See you in an hour? I've got a surprise for you." 

"I can't wait," you say. You'll pretend to be totally surprised at his cake, no problem. Anything to make him smile. "Love you both. See you soon." 

"Love you. Say love you," Eddie prompts. 

"I love you!" Roan yells. "I'll make dad put your blanket in the dryer!" 

You put down the phone with a small smile, wondering if you can weasel your way past your eagle-eyed coworkers for an early finish. 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[jobean12-blog]

Bake Nights

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,709

Summary: Bucky starts to show some interest in one of your favorite shows and you couldn't be more excited!

Author's Note: So I'm a huge fan of the GBBO and since the finale was this last week I've wanted to write something fun with Bucky. The show really just brings me joy and I've needed it lately and pairing it with Bucky just makes it that much better! No real spoilers here for the latest season- just lots of fun! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: lots of sweet fluff and flirty fun

“Buuuuuckkkyyyy.”

“Yeah doll?”

“Have you seen my tea? Are we out?”

As you continue to search the cabinet you feel his hard chest press against your back. His arm reaches above you and he pushes the box of crackers aside, revealing your tea.

“Oh good!” you cheer. “I’m about to watch this week’s episode of Great British Bake Off and I wanted some tea and snacks.”

“Is that the UK baking show you’re always going on about?”

“Yes,” you say with narrowed eyes as you turn in his arms.

He gives you a lopsided smile before a kiss.

“Want to watch with me?” you ask with a hopeful tone.

“I’m finishing up the paperwork from this last mission and you know all the cooking shows do is make me hangry.”

“You’re always hangry,” you state with a pout.

“So are you,” he fires back.

With one more kiss he says, “when I’m done I’ll come in a sit.”

“Ok,” you huff. “Hurry!”

You make your tea and get situated on the couch with the blanket, snacks and Alpine curled up in your lap.

“You’ll always watch with me right buddy,” you coo as you pet the cat’s soft white fur. “Not like daddy…too busy and too hungry.”

“Heard that doll face,” Bucky chimes from the other room.

“Damn super solider hearing,” you mutter.

You’re fully engrossed in the show, waiting with bated breath as Prue and Paul judge the show stoppers, and when Bucky asks, “did she just say, ‘tell us about your Beaver?,’” you startle with a squeal and nearly drop a now very irritated Alpine.

“OH MY GOD BUCK!” you shout.

“She did, didn’t she?” Bucky deadpans. “What kind of baking show is this?”

You press pause and turn around to stare at him as he leans against the back of the ouch and peers down at you and Alpine.

“The best baking show ever! Now shush…it’s judgement time.”

He lifts his eyebrows and smirks. “Didn’t know it was so serious. I’m gonna grab some food and I’ll be right back.”

You hit play and continue watching, barely noticing when the couch dips and Bucky sits down next to you.

“Did the beaver win?” he asks through a mouthful of food.

“It doesn’t work like that,” you start to explain but clamp your mouth shut as you wait for Noel to announce the name of the baker that’s leaving.

“How does it…?”

“Buck, wait…this is the worst part,” you whisper as you nibble on a finger.

He shuts up and takes another bite of his sandwich.

“Oh noooooooo,” you cry when you hear who’s going home. “I hate when anyone has to leave.”

Once it’s over and you’ve shut the TV you sigh. “Have to wait a whole week for the next one!”

Bucky slides his arm across your shoulders and tucks you against him, silently offering you a bite of his sandwich.

You take it and then ask, “can we get some cake at the diner later? I’m in the mood for a big slice of something.”

He chuckles and takes another bite of the sandwich before offering you the last one.

“Sure doll face. I can always go for cake.”

“Time for baking again?” Bucky asks when he gets out of the bathroom and finds you on the couch snuggled up with Alpine.

“Yes! Want to come watch?” you ask excitedly.

His expression falls. “Aw doll. I’m about to go workout with Sam.”

You pout. Again.

He leans over the side of the couch and kisses it right off your lips. “I’ll try to be quick. Maybe I can catch the end…or you could wait for me?”

You stare at him and blink several times, warring with the need to watch the episode immediately and the desire to watch with him.

The corners of his eyes scrunch up as he smiles. “It’s ok baby doll. You go ahead and watch, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You nod and pucker up for another kiss which he happily obliges in.

By the time he gets back from his workout you’re watching Paul and Prue judge the showstoppers.

“Are we about to see who wins,” he says as he plops down next to you.

Alpine meows in frustration as the couch bounces and he goes with it.

“They’re still judging the showstoppers and it’s bread week…”

You say the last words ominously and Bucky shifts closer, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear.

“Why do you sound so scared doll?”

“Paul is the King of bread.”

“Paul…? Is that the guy with the bad fake tan?”

“HEY!” you admonish with a giggle. “Yeah…but he knows bread.”

“I know bread!” Bucky says more to himself than you. “I eat bread all the time. I love it.”

“Not like that you buttface,” you retort. “Like he knows how to bake the best bread.”

“Buttface…? Did you just…?” Bucky starts before he returns his focus to the bread.

“I’ll be the judge of that! Where can we get some Paul bread?”

“Paul bread?” you repeat. “Just…shush. Let’s watch.”

“You sure tell me to shush a lot when this show is on,” he grumbles.

“That’s ‘cause you talk too much while it’s on!” you reply.

“That’s it,” Bucky says and grabs you, hauling you into his lap as his fingers find purchase on your waist and dig in.

“BUCKKKKKKKKKKKY! That tickles, stop, OH MY GOD!”

You screech and squeal and kick and fight but it’s no use. He easily holds you in place while he tortures you with tickles.  

Alpine hops off the couch with his tail turned up and gives Bucky a murderous glare.

“Please,” you whine. “Just let me finish my show!”

He finally relents and slides his hands along your curves, snuggling you against his chest while you catch your breath.

“You’re such a pain in my ass,” you sigh as you let out one last deep breath and snuggle closer.

After they announce star baker Bucky adds, “I like the guy with the eye liner. He’s really funny.”

“That’s Noel. He’s the best!”

You stiffen when they get ready to announce who’s going home and Bucky hugs you more tightly.

“I really hate that part,” you say when it’s over.

“Alright, it’s official. Next week we are watching together.”

Your frown instantly turns into a bright smile and you throw your arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses.

“I’m so excited Buck! And I have to explain everything…so Paul and Prue are the judges…”

Bucky stops you with a press of his finger to your lips. “Can we discuss his over food? Sam kicked my ass today and then the baking and now I’m starving.”

You smile before taking his finger and giving it a nibble. “Of course. Come on, we can get pizza.”

“YESSSS my favorite,” he sings.

“Everything is your favorite,” you deadpan.

He scoffs and then his smile turns devious. “I take it back.”

Your hands land on your hips and pin him with a challenging glare.

He steps closer and takes you in his arms. “Pizza isn’t my favorite thing to eat…”

His lips trail along your neck, stopping just below your ear. “You’re my favorite thing to eat.”

With a hum of satisfaction you crane your neck back and sigh as he places soft kiss to your skin, tracing your jaw before he finds your lips again.

His stomach growls just as he kisses you and you both laugh.

“Pizza first,” you say.

“Then you for dessert,” he promises.

“Man those technical challenges are rough,” Bucky says as he runs his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“I KNOW!” you agree. “I don’t know how they do it.”

“Show stopper now?” Bucky asks with a boyish smirk.

“Yep!” you say popping the p before giving him a sweet kiss. “And it’s pastry week! YUM!”

Bucky’s fingers sneak under your shirt and trace mindless patterns along your shoulder. You’re snuggled against his chest with your palms flattened on his chest and tummy.

He digs his fingers into your skin and asks, “why does Paul walk around and watch them like that!?! It’s so intimidating!”

“Because he’s a total pain in the butt and knows how scary he is!”

As you continue to watch each baker explains their flavors and design and Bucky’s stomach growls.

“I’m so hungry,” he whines.

“You’re so cute,” you answer. “We just have to get through judging then we can eat!”

“Ok,” he says quietly as he pulls you closer.

“That’s amazing!” he says excitedly as one of the bakers brings up their showstopper. “I hope it tastes good!”

When the bakers are lined up in their chairs waiting to hear who star baker is and who’s leaving the tent, Bucky sucks in a breath, clearly on edge.

“Yes!” he cheers when they announce star baker. “I called that one!”

“You did,” you say as you pat his chest with a smile.

When Noel is about to say who’s leaving the tent Bucky drops his head and mutters, “ugh, you were right, this part really is the worst. I like them all! I don’t want anyone to leave.”

“Just wait until it gets down to the end and there are only a few bakers left…” you warn him.

The show ends and you both give each other a sad look.

“Do we know what the theme for next week is?” he asks.

“Botanicals!”

“Like flowers?” he asks with a confused look.

“Yes,” you smile.

“Wow, can’t wait for that!...heyyyyy why don’t we bake something doll?”

You do a double take. “You want to bake?”

“Yeah! I mean why not? I’m sure we can make somethin’ good.”

“OK! I’m sure we have the ingredients to put something together.”

You hop off the couch and head into the kitchen, opening a drawer to pull out two aprons.

“No way!” Bucky says when he sees what you’re holding up.

“You have to Buck! PLEAAASSSSSSSEEE…all the bakers wear one!”

“Fine,” he relents and takes it from your hand. “But I’m getting second dessert after this.”

He waggles his eyebrows as he looks you up and down.

“What are you a Hobbit?” you tease.

“A horny Hobbit!” he exclaims.

@hiddles-rose @lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814 @goldylions @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #great british bake off #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #gbbo

[grandlinedreams]

omg omg omg your fics are so adorable😭😭😭 if you don’t mind could do you an angsty hurt/comfort law x reader story about how the reader gets captured by marines and gets tortured, and the heart pirates have to rescue them and get them back to health ??

have a good day or night!!💗💗💗

Hdhdh thank-you, I try!! But absolutely i can!! I hope that this is to your liking!!

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, injuries, established relationship, hurt/comfort]

"It's not as bad as it looks."

Law looks up, jaw clenched as he prods gloved fingers against the dark cluster of bruising on your side. You bite back a hiss as he does so, exhaling when he lets up.

"They cracked at least two of your ribs." His tone is flat, and you can tell that he's upset ㅡ with you or the marines, however, you're not entirely sure. "From what I've been able to assess so far, that's also in addition to your arm, which is broken. Two of your fingers needed reset, not to mention the likelyhood of a concussionㅡ"

"Okay," you interrupt, "maybe it is as bad as it looks."

Law's eyes narrow. "That's understatement." You watch as he turns to grab a pair of tweezers, soaking a cottonball into antiseptic before he brings it up to dab at the puffy cut on your cheek. "You could have died."

You bite back another hiss, closing your eyes at the pain that lances from your bruised (and cracked) ribs. "But I didn't."

"You got lucky." Law's tone is icy as he dabs at the split in your lip. You watch as he turns to begin cleaning up the supplies he's used.

"Next timeㅡ"

Law almost slams the bandage case shut and turns to you, expression that of quiet fury, golden eyes blazing. "Next time? The next time you're dumb enough to get caught, they'll kill you. There will be no next time, [Name]."

You meet his gaze. "I'd rather die than betray this crew, Law. You know that."

Law is silent as he finishes up cleaning things and packing them away before he gets to his feet and moves towards the door. He pauses there, shoulders slumping with his slow exhale. "I know," he answers at last, "and that's exactly what I'm afraid of."

ㅡ

"I never did get to thank you two for rescuing me," you say as you study the cards before you, peering up at Penguin and Shachi.

Penguin smiles. "It was no problem. Kind of cool to get to sneak into a marine base. Like a spy."

"We couldn't have done it without captain," Shachi adds before he pauses. "Speaking of, did captain give you the okay to be wandering around again?"

Your lips part.

"No," comes the clipped response from behind you, making you freeze before you tip your head back to find Law staring at you. "I didn't."

"Iㅡ"

"Room." Tattooed fingers grip your shoulder. "Shambles."

Your stomach spins as scenery abruptly shifts, and you huff as Law appears a moment after you. "Using your devil fruit on me? Really?"

"Yes," Law answers, frustration clear in both his tone and expression. "Because you apparently can't follow orders. I told you bedrest and minimal movement."

"They're going to suspect something if they figure out you used it to drop me in your room."

He shrugs, arms folded across his chest. "Let them."

You groan. "Law, I'm going to insane. Let me do something."

"I'll tell you what you can do," Law starts, watches your expression light up. "You can do as I tell you and quit being a brat."

You stare, expression going deadpan. "There's no fun in that."

Law scowls before he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "...just do this for me," he says, tone softer. "Please."

You stare and then huff as you move towards is bed, yanking the covers back to slip beneath them. Mindful not to jostle your arm or your bruised side, you turn to look at Law. "Happy?"

"Thrilled," comes the amused answer when you sulk, and he approaches to crouch beside the bed. "Quit pouting, you're an adult."

"But this is boring."

"Try to sleep. Rest is going to help you more than anything." Placing his hand over your eyes, Law can feel the brush of your eyelashes.

"Trying to smother me isn't going to help either."

Law's eyes flick skyward for a moment as he sighs. "I'm hardly smothering you. Although it's an idea, given that you'd be unconscious."

You reach up, pulling his hand down enough you can stare. "You wouldn't dare." He raises an eyebrow, and your eyes narrow. "Law."

"Then go to sleep." He counters crisply. "Or what can I offer you that will get you to stay put so I can work and not have to hunt you down?"

You hum, expression thoughtful before your eyes lock with his. "Kiss me." When he gives you a flat look, you grin. "You heard me, if you give me a kiss I'llㅡ"

Law's lips are against yours, familiar pressure that makes your eyes slide shut as you press back, good hand coming up to rest against the back of his cap. And then he's pulling away, ignoring your whine of protest. "Go to sleep."

"But I wantㅡ"

"Sleep," Law emphasizes. "We made a deal."

He pulls away completely, and you scowl before turning away with a huff. "Fine. Since you won't give me another kiss."

Scoffing, Law reaches to tug at the brim of his hat, hoping you don't notice the faint flush to his cheeks. "And I told you to stop being a brat."

Crossing the room, Law seats himself at his desk and flips open one of the various books he'd been taking notes from earlier. He doesn't know how long he reads for but when he looks up again, you're finally asleep.

#ㅡmine. #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered. #anonymous #–ml: law.

[dollfacefantasy]

Hiiii I was wondering if I could request smth along the lines of reader's old guy friend is in town from college and she has him over at her and Leon's apartment and he gets jealous so later he makes her sit there n watch as he jerks off so he can cum on her face and mark her as his 😭

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: an old friend of yours comes to visit, and leon gets a little jealous. he has to make sure you remember that you're all his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, masturbation, facial, praise, jealousy

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i hope this is what you were wanting! thank you for requesting :) sorry if leon comes across as slightly insane, ummm that's just how i get when i'm jealous so... as always, i appreciate the reblogs and comments oh so much <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz

“It’s so great seeing you again,” you say as you pour lemonade into two glasses. The liquid crackles over the ice cubes, and you pick them up and hand one to the man standing on the opposite side of the counter.

Chad, your old friend from college, had come for an unannounced visit this afternoon. You didn’t particularly want him here, but you were being polite and catching up, going through normal small talk.

“Yeah, so it’s been great working there. Fingers crossed it stays that way,” he says.

You respond with a cordial laugh and smile as you hear the front door to your apartment opening.

“Hey babydoll, I’m-” Leon calls as walks through the entry. His eyebrows raise when he sees the unfamiliar person standing in his kitchen. “Who’s this?”

“Babydoll? Very cute,” Chad says to you teasingly.

Leon narrows his eyes slightly. It was a minor change in his expression. Chad probably didn’t notice it, but you picked up on it immediately.

You walk over to him and tuck yourself against his side. “This is my friend from college, Chad,” you say and look up at him. You rub his side reassuringly, knowing that Leon could be a little… territorial. “Chad, this is my boyfriend Leon.”

“Nice to meet you, Leon,” Chad says.

“Likewise. I’m sorry to interrupt. I didn’t know you would be here,” Leon says. You eye him, silently telling him to play nice. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Neither did she. I’m just in town for the weekend, thought I’d stop by. Got her address from a mutual friend,” Chad clarifies.

“How nice,” he says. You hoped Chad took this as a normal interaction, but the clipped nature of Leon’s tone was pretty obvious.

“We’re just finishing up here, sweetheart. I know you’re probably tired from working,” you reach up and stroke his cheek, giving him a look that says what you’re really communicating, “You can go relax, and I’ll join you as soon as I’m done.”

Before Leon can reply to you, Chad chimes in. “Don’t worry, big guy. Fifteen more minutes, and she’s back to being all yours.”

When did she stop being all mine? Leon wanted to answer. But he knew it would mortify you, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he lets out a forced laugh. 

“Have fun, babydoll,” he says to you, pulling you closer for a tighter hug and planting a kiss on your lips. With that, he walks off to your shared bedroom.

He shuts the door behind him and groans. He knew this was fucking stupid and immature, but god, he couldn’t help it when it came to you. He knew he could trust you, that you would never betray him like that. And he knew it should be embarrassing, all logic and reason being thrown out the window in favor of the primal part of his brain that looked at you and could only think one thing: mine.

It was just so frustrating. He paces the room for a moment and pinches the bridge of his nose. He tries to tell himself it’s fine. He’s being over dramatic. It’s all fine. 

But every part of his mind and body are telling him it’s not fine. You're his. And who does that dumb fuck think he is to make fun of you for liking the name babydoll? Who does he think he is calling him “big guy” like they’re buddies or something? Who does he think he is, intruding on your private time together by coming over uninvited?

The whole thing pissed Leon off even more because he knew the real root of why he was getting so riled up about this even if he didn’t want to admit it. He had been so fucking horny all day, and all he wanted tonight was to come home to his sweet girl and stuff her full of his cock till neither of them could think straight.

Constantly, throughout the day, he pictured you whining, face contorting in pleasure, clawing at his back as he was balls deep inside that tight, wet pussy. He envisioned the way you wrapped your limbs around him and whimpered “My Leon” when the pleasure got too good. And now that he was thinking of this again, he felt himself getting hard inside the constraints of his jeans.

He could hear you out there talking to Chad, and it was driving him crazy. He could hear your laughter, but it wasn’t genuine. It didn’t sound true like when he told you a stupid joke. No. Obviously, you didn’t even really want this guy here.

While that should’ve made him feel better, it just worked him up more, convincing him you should’ve been in here with him instead, your face pressed to the mattress and your ass in the air while he filled you till you were leaking his cum.

After a while, it finally sounded like the conversation out there was winding down. He couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He had to give in a little bit. He adjusts himself to conceal his half-hard cock and walks out to the living room, acting as if he was getting a drink. He sees you saying bye to Chad at the front door.

At first he’s relieved, finally this douchebag will be out of your hair. But then he looks closer. That guy had his hand on your shoulder, his fingers rubbing tiny circles on the fabric of your shirt. Leon sees you shrug the hand off, but it does little to quell his anger.

Then this fucking guy brushes a strand of your hair out of your face as he says goodbye. You shrink away from the contact but still. It takes everything in Leon not to explode and rip that guy apart. He keeps his cool though and just glares daggers at him.

Chad catches a glimpse of him as he leaves. His expression falters a little as he sees the hateful look Leon’s shooting him, but he quickly puts on his stupid fucking smile again and waves. “See you another time, big guy.”

Leon’s blood boils at the comment. That guy thinks he’s so fucking funny. In reality, he was pathetic, hitting on you when he knew your boyfriend was in the other room. He wanted to go out there and wipe that smile off that guy’s face again. Let him know who’s girl you really were.

You turn around, and it’s like you can feel the fury radiating off of him. “Leon…” you say softly.

“What?” he says flatly before walking to the fridge to gulp down some water. He needed to cool off. He didn’t blame you for his own childish feelings, and it wouldn’t be fair to lash out at you.

You walk over to him tentatively. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says before swallowing the water. God, just look at you. So fucking cute he could barely take it. Looking up at him with those adorable eyes, your voice all soft and sweet like you couldn’t say a mean word if you tried. He couldn’t take it out on you, but he was so pent up.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Baby, I’m fine,” he repeats before finishing his drink. He decides to go back to the bedroom. You could follow if you wanted, but being in this state of anger when you were being so gentle was making him wild. He wanted to ruin you and have you crying that he was the only one you’d ever want. It was making him hard again.

You follow him to the bedroom and stand in the doorway. He’s sitting on the bed, clearly frustrated, and you have a good idea of what the problem is.

“You know he’s just a friend- actually, even less than that. He’s just some guy I used to know. I hadn’t thought about him in years before he showed up today,” you say.

“I know.”

“Then what’s the matter, my love. Why do you seem so tense?” you coo as you walk towards him.

Leon hesitates. He knew how pathetic the words sounded even before they came spilling out of his mouth. “The way he was touching you? And the way he talked. He’s such a dick.”

“I know,” you sigh, “Like I said, we aren’t friends. You’ll most likely never see him again, so I wouldn’t give him anymore of your energy.”

“Is it not obvious you’re mine?” he continues, “And the whole babydoll thing? Fuck that guy. I like that you like when I call you babydoll. It’s cute. He’s fucking stupid.”

You just nod, letting him rant and get it out of his system. Kneeling down in front of him, you rub his knee and up to his thigh. “I like when you call me babydoll too. It’s very sweet,” you agree with a small smile.

It was an innocent gesture, getting on your knees in front of him. An attempt to make better eye contact with the way he was sitting. But now, his dick was solid. He shifts a little.

“Because you’re precious,” he breathes and leans forward to lay a kiss on your forehead.

You sense the shift in his demeanor and see his physical fidgeting. “How can I make you feel better, babe? Take your mind off it?”

He stares at you for a moment, contemplating what he wants. “Just stay there,” he grunts when he figures it out. He undoes his belt and slides his pants and boxers down his legs. His flushed cock rests against his thigh.

You assume he wants a blowjob, so you reach for it. You’re surprised when he grabs your wrist and stops you. “Not right now, honey.”

He leans back a little and wraps his fingers around his cock. He begins stroking slowly, up and down. He lets out a deep breath.

You raise your eyebrows at him but don’t protest. If this was what he wanted, why would you oppose?

“Just stay right there, angel. Just need a minute,” he says.

He looks down at you, his eyes hooded with lust. You were perfect to him. The way you watched and didn’t say a word, letting him do what he needed.

“My pretty girl,” he grunts and teaches with his free hand to stroke your hair. He pumps his cock a little faster, “Spit on it for me, babydoll.”

You do what he asks, leaning forward and spitting down onto his cock. His hand slides up, taking your saliva and spreading it over the head and down the shaft.

“Good girl,” he says. A low moan rumbles in his chest as he jerks himself off in front of you. You just watch silently.

You keep your eyes on his fist and the beads of precum that leak from the angry, red tip. While you gaze at this sight, you tilt your head and rest it on his thigh.

He didn’t even fully understand why, but seeing you do that sets something off in him. A guttural sound erupts from some deep, primitive place inside him, and his hips buck into his hand. The way you looked so content to just watch him please himself. It made him feel the connection to you that he so desperately needed to be reminded of.

“Sweet baby,” he moans, his head falling back, “My precious girl. Only mine.”

He starts gently fucking his closed fist, biting his lip and whimpering as he does. You grew damp between your thighs at the sight.

“You’re my baby. Mine. You wouldn’t do this for anyone else. I’m the only one who gets to have this, see you on your knees watching me jerk off,” he mumbles, more to himself than you as the rush of impending release fogs his head.

“Mhm,” you simply agree.

He moans more, his eyes half shut at this point. His hips keep working slightly. Soft, wet noises fill the air as the mix of saliva and precum coat his dick throughout the process.

“Baby, say you’re mine. Say it to me. Wanna fucking hear it,” he groans.

“I’m yours,” you say.

“Yeah, you are,” he grunts, “Nobody else gets my baby girl. You’re only for me.”

He whimpers again and his breathing becomes ragged as he gets closer to the edge. It’s so close, he can feel it right there.

“Gonna cum on your face, baby. Gotta see that you belong to me. See my fucking mark on you,” he rambles out.

“I want you to cum on my face. Wanna feel my Leon claim me as his own,” you say.

Once he hears those two words, it’s over. He makes a noise that’s somewhere between a growl and a whine as he cums. Euphoric release floods his veins while streams of hot, sticky cum cover your face. He thrusts upward into his grasp as they flow out of him and coat your skin.

When he’s finished, he looks down at you with dilated pupils. All the anger had left him with his orgasm, and now it was replaced by pure love for you. You still looked so cute covered in his cum.

He sits up and strokes your jaw. “Thank you, baby. Sorry for getting so intense,” he chuckles.

You smile and rise to sit next to him on the bed. “It’s ok. I get a little crazy when I’m jealous too,” you say.

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve seen that,” he says teasingly.

“Well, don’t try to find out,” you say and smile at him.

You sit there for a moment, wondering if you could clean your face now. He seems to know what you’re thinking. He rubs your thigh and kisses your hair.

“Give me a few minutes to get it up again,” he whispers in your ear, “Then I’m cumming deep inside that pretty pussy while you're still covered in my last load. Gonna have everyone in this city hear who you belong to when you're screaming my name.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

[yrluvjane]

hi hi hi i'm sorry i've been off for a few days. you write so good. are you kidding me? about more requests, how about a reverse grumpy x sunshine because our boy James is the literal definition of sunshine. like reader is this no-nonsense type badass and he's just a sweet, yet protective but just overall a cutie pie?

eeee! I just finished writing this and i love it! Though, I don't know if this "grumpy", i lost that half way through writing. i hope you like it too! Seriously i love all requests, keep'em coming, honey <3

If James was a comforting, warm fire during the cold winter nights that brought everyone together, then you were the bracing, ice-cold wind that swept them all away.

The party atmosphere is wild, fun, and lively, with James dancing and drinking with some of your friends as the party rages on. It's a little odd to see you sitting alone at a table, casually nodding as Sirius drunkenly whispers in your ear.

You've noticed that from across the room, he keeps an unwavering gaze on you, his attention unwavering. When you turn to meet his gaze this time, you smirk and send him a teasing wink, as Sirius drunkenly rambles in your ear.

You turn back to Sirius, giving him your full attention, as it suddenly hits you that he may be high as well, not just drunk. When you turn to motion for your boyfriend to come over, he's gone. Your eyes search for him, and suddenly there's someone forcingly kissing your cheek as James appears with an enthusiastic grin on his face. "Gotcha," he proclaims triumphantly.

Sirius, next to you, slurs his words as he does a flossing gesture, "I mean it, Genius! Gets everything, y'know!" You can't help but humor him by nodding along, humoring his drunken antics. Then, James takes your hand, placing his warm fingers in between yours, linking them together tightly.

"What are you doing all alone?" James asks as he takes the drink from Sirius' hand. "I'm not alone, Sirius is here to tell me all about his newfound admiration for.. muggle floss. Now if you really want to impress me then you'd take your friend up to his dorm. " you say, your face splitting into a mischievous grin. James raised his brow in amusement.

"Wish they'd make a chocolate flavor, though."

They both faced the younger Black patriarch in confusion.

"What's a floss?" James' brows furrow, the confusion written all over his face. Even when you bite your lip to hide your grin, your eyes give you away, but before he has a chance to figure out what you're about to do, you turn to Sirius and exclaim, "Sirius, James doesn't know what floss is!" The black-haired boy turns to his friend in shock, mouth hanging open, his eyes wide with surprise. "Prongsie, no!" Sirius throws himself over your lap to reach James

"Okay, I get it. I'll get him to bed." James says with a heavy sigh, getting up from his seat. "Great! Cause I need to go take a shower." You say as you blow him a kiss. He faces Sirius with an exaggeratedly miserable demeanor, rolling his eyes at the black-haired boy. "Mate, I need you to tell me all about this floss thing," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Sirius looks up at him with a confused expression on his face before breaking into a grin. "You'll love it! It's like a small thread and you put it in between your teeth!"

"What?"

When you return, a little over an hour has passed, and the party has died down significantly. The atmosphere is quieter now, with only a few small groups of people still clustered together in the corner of the room. Piles of passed out 7th-year students can be seen scattered across the floor as well. It's a bit somber compared to before, with most of the partygoers having either gone to bed or passed out from too much drink.

It's not long before you spot James sitting alone in the arm chair, his glasses placed neatly on a stand table nearby. He seems deep in thought, staring off into space as he relaxes in the quiet atmosphere of the now-empty party. You approach James, a small smirk on your face as you take a seat on his lap. "What are you still doing up?" you ask, your voice low and teasing. He looks up at you, his eyes filled with surprise, and before you can respond, he straightens up immediately, his voice firm and confident. "I have a girlfriend," he says, his mouth set in a determined line.

You tease him, saying "I don't see her," Without his glasses James can only make out colors. He looks up at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Well, what I said was enough, and I would like to get off, please," he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. You grin at his response and get off his lap, only to sit on the arm of the chair. "Okay, would you tell me about her? Your girlfriend, that is," you say, a hint of curiosity in your voice.

"Oh, where do I start? She's smart, kind, and beautiful. We've only been together for a short while, but I can already talk about her all day. She's the perfect person for me, in every way." He sighs happily as he throws his head back. "Oh, she's feisty. Like a dragon, you know? Adorable and dangerous at the same time. You always have to be on your toes with her. But I love her for that. She's strong, confident. I feel like she can take on the world and I just want to be by her side to support her. She's my everything... I'm a lucky man to have her in my life."

You blush and sniffle as you reach over to grab his glasses from the table, a small smirk on your face. "I don't know about you, but it sounds like you're in love with me, James," you say with a mischievous glint in your eye.

He looks up at you, taken aback by your sudden comment and the teasing tone in your voice.

You smile as you slip James' glasses back onto his face, making his eyes widen in surprise as he realizes it's you. He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "You tricked me!" he exclaims, a smile spreading across his face.

You tutted, "I thought you were really in love with me, for a moment there."

"Maybe...but only a little,"

You blush and gasp as James pulls you onto his lap, your heart fluttering with excitement. You wrap your arms around his neck, your face close to his, your body pressed against his. He smiles down at you, his eyes warm and tender, and you feel as if you can see straight into him.

You pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. "Only a little, huh?" you say, a small smirk playing at the corners of your mouth.

"Yeah," he says, his voice soft and low. "I can't help it, I guess. You're just so... I don't know... you're just you."

You laugh, feeling like you're on cloud nine. "Aw, how sweet," you say, your voice laced with sarcasm. "I don't know about you, but I'm not complaining. This feels pretty nice."

He chuckles, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear. "It does, doesn't it? Think we'll work out?"

You grin, your heart thrumming with happiness. "Well, I'm a sucker for a good time. And you, James Potter, are definitely providing that right now."

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours, and you feel the sparks flying as your mouths meet in a passionate kiss.

#marauders era #james potter #james potter x reader #harry potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry potter #james potter drabble #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james fleamont potter

[luuuuucyscorner]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞- 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Chapter Two. Info: After class Spider finds Y/n and offers to make plans

Tags: 18+, swearing, smoking

word count: 5168

gif by me

After class ends, Spider saunters over to you with a smirk on his face. "Well, well, British-American. Care for a smoke outside?" He offers you one of his cigarettes, extending a pack towards you. His gaze doesn't leave hers, the challenge clear in his eyes. "Or do they not partake in the pleasures of nicotine across the pond?" He chuckles lightly, leaning against the school wall cooly. "It's break, after all. Might as well enjoy it, yeah?" He takes a drag from his own cigarette, waiting for your response.

Thinking it over, you take the cigarette directly from his lips and take a drag. Spider watches your lips wrap around it. smoke puffs out expertly "not too bad for my first time eh?"

Spider's eyes widen as you take the cigarette straight from his mouth, then watches in fascination as you puff away like a pro. He swallows hard, trying not to gawk at your skilled handling of the cigarette. "Bloody hell, Y/n..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. Your confidence and ability with the cigarette caught him off guard. "That was impressive, love." He takes the cigarette back, offering it again if you wanted another drag. "Ya know, I reckon we could show each other a thing or two." He smirks, looking you up and down appreciatively. "Maybe after classes, wanna grab a drink? Get to know each other better?" He raises an eyebrow, curiosity shining in his blue eyes.

"are you flirting with me spider? on my first day?" you say with a sparkle in your eyes.

Spider's cheeks flush a deep shade of pink, but he refuses to look away. Instead, he meets your gaze boldly, acknowledging the truth behind your words. "Might be, love," he admits softly. "Can't say I'm good at keepin' myself in check around you." He shakes his head slightly, attempting to dismiss the nervous energy buzzing between you. "So, what d'ya say? Drinks after class? Make sure ya don't fall for any more maps, yeah?" He chuckles nervously, but there was no denying the genuine interest in his tone. "Could be fun, I reckon."

you don't answer immediately, finding humor in his nervous discomfort.

Spider fidgets, his unease evident as he waits for your response. He tries not to appear too eager, but the anticipation is written all over his face. He takes another drag from his cigarette, watching you watch him. The silence stretches on uncomfortably long, making him squirm under your scrutiny. Finally, he blurts out, "Look, Leia, don't think I'm pushin' ya or anything. Just figured, since we're stuck together in that class, might as well enjoy ourselves, right?" He shrugs nonchalantly, hiding his growing anxiety. "If not drinks, maybe another time? Just let me know."

"nah Spider I'm just busting your balls, I'd love to get drinks" you giggle at his expense.

Relief floods through Spider, leaving him nearly breathless. "Cheers, love!" he exclaims, visibly relaxing now that you'd agreed. "Name your place, and I'll take care of the rest." He grins widely, almost bashful in his happiness. "Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone, checking the time. "How does six work for ya? Meet me outside the local pub?" He asks, already planning out the perfect night in his head. "We'll have a blast, promise."

"umm..." you stutter embarrassed " I just moved here, i don't know 'the local pub'"

Spider's grin falters for a moment, realizing his assumption. "Shit, sorry, love," he apologizes sincerely. "Didn't mean to assume. Alright, then. Name a place - anywhere in town. I'll meet you there and show ya around." He tucks his phone back into his pocket, trying to come up with alternative plans. "We can do whatever you want, honestly. Movie? Coffee shop? Beach?" He suggests various options, hoping to accommodate your preferences. "I'm up for whatever. Just tell me whatcha fancy, Y/n."

"maybe we could go to my place? my ma will be out all night"

Surprise flickers across Spider's face, followed by a slow grin spreading wide. "Your place, huh? Now that sounds like my kinda night," he replies, trying not to seem too eager. "Sure thing, Y/n. Just give me the address, and I'll find my way there. I promise I won't break anything." He laughs lightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Actually, forget that. We'll have a good time, just you and me." He leans closer, whispering softly yet confidently, "And if your ma asks, I'll tell her I'm just your new Aussie friend, got it?"

"sure thing" you say giggling softly "lets get to class" your warm breath tickling his cheek and neck as you teasingly pull back.

Heat floods Spider's body at the sensation of your warm breath on his skin, causing him to swallow hard. "Right, yeah, class," he murmurs, clearing his throat roughly. His gaze lingers on your lips, desire simmering beneath his playful exterior. As you step back, he adjusts his jeans discreetly, attempting to disguise his excitement. "See ya later, Y/n. Can't wait till tonight." He gives you a playful salute before heading towards the classroom, still reeling from your closeness. A smirk remains plastered on his face throughout the remaining lessons, unable to shake the anticipation for the evening ahead.

TAGLIST @ivvees-blog

#spencer white #spider white #spider heartbreak high #spencer 'spider' white #heartbreak high #hbh #ameria wadia #ayesha madon #asher yasbincek #bryn chapman parish #anthony “ant” vaughn #ant vaughn #anthony vaughn #darren rivers #harper mclean #smut #fanfic #spencer white x reader #spider x reader #luuuuucyscorner #heartbreak high reboot

[unfortunatebrainfarts]

Cussing out anyone and everyone is fun until you get lasso'd out of bed to do it on behalf of your casual space cowboy co-worker who for some reason knows where you live

Boothill x f!reader

A/n: soort of part 2 to my previous work but can be read seperately‼️

"For the last time — let me go before I literally unscrew your dick off."

"Psh, as if ya got the balls for that lil' missy."

You don't even have to look at Boothill to know he was immensely enjoying himself right now — hell you couldn't even if you wanted to since you were currently getting dragged through the ice cold floors of wherever the hell you were, with a fucking lasso firmly binding your legs and arms.

"It's like 5 a.m. in the morning, what the hell could you even want at this god forsaken hour?!" You righteously grumble, but alas, you were met with nothing more than silence probably because you've asked similar questions before. Yes. This has happened before. Many times before.

For Boothill, tracking down enemies and pinning them down was great. Not being able to curse them out and instead calling them a 'cutie' and blessing their soul? Not so great. But that's where you come in! His lovely fellow galaxy ranger who's been with him long enough to know what he wants to say, and is far too weak(compared to this baby shark looking freak of a cyborg) to refute him. Physically that is — you always make sure that you complain his ear off to at least ensure some sort of mental damage.

"Hey! If you're going to take me somewhere could you at least not drag me all the way there? Ugh these floors are so cold I feel like I'm gonna get hypothermia. If I do and I sue you, don't you have to pay me compensation for that? I'm expecting at least a million credits or so cause I don't think Lan provides health insurance for the galaxy rangers—"

Your pitiable monologue was abrubtly cut short by Boothill firmly gripping the rope which binded you and roughly jerking it upwards so that your body would fall limp directly on his shoulder like a giant worm, your head just centimeters away from his.

Of course to which you responded with automatic aggressive squirming and wiggling only making you look more and more like a worm. But honestly who could blame you? I mean, who just DOES THAT and expects the other party to be calmly subdued?!

"Oh sugar honey iced tea, could ya quit strugglin' for just one moment—" A large, metalic hand was promptly placed around your waist and no amount of wiggling could even get it to so much as budge. "Now that y'r off the darn floor ain'it 'bout time ya shut yer trap? Heh... we're almost there."

Now that you were head to head with Boothill, although not in the most favorable position, you could see his face now — his face with probably the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on it. His sharp teeth making themselves apparent, and unwavering eyes focused on just whatever lied ahead.

And then his feet stood still.

"THERE," he shouted unrestraintedly like a madman, while pointing his free hand at... a random lady in purple?

Without warning, Boothill launched himself forward stopping only inches away from the woman who looked just as confused as you.

"Now, go tell 'er that she's a wonderful ray of sunshine that deserves absoloutely nothin' but the best. Oh Acheron, bless your soul ya lovely imposter, be prepared to go on a playdate and have some teatime with me soon! Until then, you should keep yourself safe."

The sheer passion that Boothill had in his tone made it clear that he had a message to get across. Though you don't think the other woman, or supposedly Acheron, understood a word he said. You exasperatedly sigh, you felt just as bad for this lady as you did for you yourself.

"Well?! What'cha waitin' for," the arm around you tightened just enough for a squeak to involuntarily come out of you and you knew you weren't getting out of this.

You mentally apologise for this poor lady before translating his thoughts into words, "Er... what he means to say is uhm, 'you're a disgusting piece of shit who deserves to die seven times over by my hand. Oh Acheron, you absoloute dumbass fucking imposter, be prepared to meet me and face me off in a showdown soon, but you might as well just kill yourself before that."

"...," Acheron's face remained unchanging and blank throughout the whole spiel, Boothill's however, was characteristicly smug and maniacal.

To others, the three of you looked as if you were frozen in time for at least a minute or so, until Acheron simply tilted her head and monotonously responded,

"Sorry, who are you?"

#I wrote this in like 30 minutes pls help #li actually writes🤯 #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

[jeridandridge]

Nothing Matters

Freshly single Melissa goes to a bar.

The bastard came clean. Joe finally came clean about cheating on Melissa and now the redhead is single for the first time since college. After hours of tears and time on the phone and in person with an attorney, the papers are finalized and she’s ready to celebrate.

Dressed in her favorite little black dress Melissa fluffs her hair once more as she sits outside the bar in her car, taking a breath she gets out, heels clicking against the cement. As she goes in the music gets louder and the smell of smoke and beer hit her nose making her smile.

“Hey, Melissa!” The man behind the bar smiles. “Your usual?”

“Yeah, Tommy thanks.” She sits as he slides a glass of bourbon neat over to her.

“Is this a celebratory drink?” He asks over the music.

“That’s right. Joe can fuck all the way off to god knows where.” She smiles, finally feeling light, free.

“That’s right! Fuck Joe.” He laughs.

Across the bar you sit nursing your own poison, watching the stunning woman curiously as you stand at a tabletop with your group. With a smile, you grab your friends empty beer bottle using it as an excuse to get closer to the woman.

“Tommy! I need another!” You call out leaning over, not making eye contact with the woman right away.

“Hey, y/n! This is Melissa, you two have something in common,” he laughs turning to grab a beer.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Melissa quirks a brow eyeing you. When she does, you feel a warmth rush over you.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you chuckle holding your hand out even in the close proximity, “I’m y/n.”

Melissa nods, taking your hand in a firm handshake.

“You might wanna ask her about Joe.” The bartender nods to you, handing the bottle over.

“Sleazy Joe?” You laugh in shock. “Oh god.” You groan necking the bottle before you lean closer to Melissa. “Joe works with my big brother, he’s always been a creep towards me and my girlfriend, well, ex girlfriend.”

Taking in the words Melissa can’t help but scoff at the new information. “I’m sorry, hon, He’s an asshole. That’s why I divorced his sorry ass.”

Chuckling you lean on the bar popping your hip out. “Well, here’s to taking out the trash, fuck Joe!.” You beam holding your beer out, cheersing to the woman’s new laughter.

The redhead laughs, something in her eye giving you a warm feeling.

“Next rounds on me, hon.” She gently squeezes your toned arm.

“Hey, you’re here to celebrate, come hangout with me and my friends. They’re alright I swear.” You tease nodding to your group, including your brother.

It doesn’t take much to convince Melissa to mingle. A couple hours later, Melissa has her arm around your neck screaming along with you into the microphone.

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

And you can hold me like he held her

And I will fuck you like nothing matters

With one hand on her hip you both bounce around on the stage together, alcohol gone from your systems now from the sheen of sweat covering you.

Even when the cold comes crashing through

I'm putting all my bets on you

I hope they never understand us

I put my heart inside your palms

My home in your arms

Now we know nothing matters

Nothing matters

When the song ends the crowd paying attention whoops and hollers. You hop off the stage first holding your hand out for Melissa, the redhead wrapping her arm around your waist as you go back to the table.

“Shots for the singers!” Your brother laughs handing them over.

Clinking the shots together you both take the drinks dipping your heads back.

“I’m hot! Let’s go outside.” Melissa yells over the music, pulling you along with her.

Outside the bar you let out a laugh taking in the cool night air.

“I gotta tell ya hon, this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” Melissa admits with a smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah? I’m happy to hear it. You looked like you needed it. I uh, I’m happy I was talked into coming out here tonight.” You beam.

Melissa takes a step closer to you, her chin tipped up with a smirk. “And that ex girlfriend of yours, how set in stone is that?”

Your eyes flick down to glossy lips then back up to sparkling green eyes. “Pretty set in stone, enough for me to get the courage to give you my number.” You grin pulling an inked napkin out of your pocket.

The redhead smiles, not breaking eye contact with you as she takes the napkin, fingers brushing against yours.

“And if I call you tomorrow to invite you to dinner?”

“I’d ask white or red wine?”

Melissa chuckles, gently squeezing your hand. “Good answer.”

Sure enough, the next day you wake up with a slight headache and your phone ringing. You even contemplate sending Joe a thank you note.

#currently frothing at the mouth over LAW #time is an illusion ok #idc if the song is recent #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #Melissa Schemmenti #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #wlw

[thatdammchickennugget]

Hello! I freaking love your writing. I was wondering if you could write Remus x fem!reader fic where the reader is a little 'keep my feelings to myself' closed off-ish person. She is in a relationship with Rem, she loves him but is scared to tell him that, thinking he might not say it back and one day drunk, she comes to his dorm or smth like that and launches why she loves him and all the little things he does that make her happy and how she is scared of feeling so much about someone. And Remus is just melting in his seat cause he does feel the same and much more towards her. I know this might be too specific so if you want you can change some part for better writing flow.❤️

Tangled Hearts

a/n - loved this request so much, I've been having so much fun writing for remus again lately ♡

pairing - remus lupin x gn!reader

warnings - fluff, alcohol, mention of y/n

wordcount - 1.4k

You sit quietly in the Gryffindor common room, the crackling fire providing a comforting backdrop to the chatter of your fellow students. Amidst the laughter and animated discussions, you find solace in the dim light, observing from a distance, your thoughts a tumultuous sea of emotions.

Remus, your boyfriend, occupies the armchair across from you, engrossed in a book. His sandy hair falls gently across his forehead, and his warm brown eyes flicker with curiosity as he turns each page. You watch him with a mixture of adoration and apprehension, your heart heavy with unspoken words.

It's been months since you and Remus officially started dating, navigating the labyrinth of emotions that comes with young love. Yet, despite the countless sweet moments you've shared, there's one sentiment that remains trapped within the confines of your chest: the three words you long to say but fear to speak.

You steal a glance at Remus, a pang of longing coursing through you as you imagine the weight of those words hanging in the air between you. But the fear of rejection looms large, a specter haunting your every thought. What if he doesn't feel the same? What if your vulnerability drives him away?

Lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the gentle hand that settles on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. Sirius offers you a sympathetic smile, his eyes filled with understanding.

"You alright there?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. "You seem a bit distant tonight."

You muster a weak smile in response, offering a noncommittal nod. "Just tired, I suppose," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius studies you for a moment, his gaze piercing through the facade you've carefully constructed. He knows you better than most, sensing the turmoil that rages beneath the surface.

"Listen, if there's ever anything you need to talk about," Sirius begins, his tone earnest, "you know I'm here for you, right? You don't have to keep everything bottled up."

You nod gratefully, the weight of his words like a balm to your wounded soul. But even as you offer him a small smile of appreciation, you can't shake the lingering doubt that gnaws at the edges of your consciousness.

As the hours stretch into the night, you remain ensconced in the shadows, your heart heavy with the burden of unspoken words. And amidst the laughter and camaraderie that fills the Gryffindor common room as your friends prepare for the party tonight, the anticipation of the upcoming fun swirls around you, a mix of excitement and trepidation as the evening wears on. 

Your friends buzz with energy, exchanging jests and making plans for the night ahead. Yet, you can't shake the unease that lingers in the pit of your stomach, a silent reminder of the words left unsaid.

Later that night, you find yourself swept up in the revelry, the music and laughter washing over you like a tide. But even as you try to lose yourself in the moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings anchors you to the ground. Was Remus waiting for you to tell him? Would he pull away if you didn’t? Or would your admission drive him away because he doesn’t feel the same way?

Hours pass in a blur of dancing and laughter, time and drinks slipping away unnoticed until the room begins to blur around the edges. You've had one too many drinks, the alcohol coursing through your veins and dulling the edges of your worries.

In a haze of drunken determination, you stumble away from the crowd, your feet carrying you in the direction of Remus's dormitory. Each step feels like a battle against gravity, your mind swimming with thoughts and emotions too turbulent to contain.

Your boyfriend had complained about a migraine not long ago. You had instantly gotten up from your seat next to Lily to go lie down with him, but he had told you not to worry about it and have fun, glad to see you let a little loose for once and confident that his friends would keep an eye on you. Unbeknownst to him, Sirius was way past thinking clearly and the two of you had gone all out at the drinks table after he left.

Finally reaching Remus's door, you fumble with the handle, your fingers clumsy from the alcohol. With a sigh of relief, you push the door open, stumbling into the dimly lit room beyond.

"Y/n?" Remus's voice cuts through the fog in your mind, filled with concern as he rushes to your side. "Are you alright?"

You try to muster a response, but the words elude you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Instead, you collapse onto his bed, your head spinning as Remus kneels beside you, his eyes clouded with worry.

"Merlin, you're drunk," he murmurs, his voice tinged with both amusement and concern. "What happened?"

You open your mouth to speak, but all that emerges is a garbled mess of words, your thoughts jumbled and incoherent. With a sigh, Remus reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face as he surveys you with a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

"I think it's time you got some rest," he says softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.

You nod, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine as you sink into the comfort of his presence. 

Remus helps you out of your shoes and covers you with a blanket, tucking you in with a tenderness that melts away the last of your worries. As he settles onto the bed beside you, you can't help but revel in his warmth, the steady rhythm of his breath a soothing melody in the darkness.

For a while, you lie in silence. But as the alcohol dulls your inhibitions, a sense of urgency gnaws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to break free from the shackles of silence.

"Remus," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "I... I need to tell you something."

Remus meets your gaze, his eyes soft with concern as he reaches out, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "What is it, love?" he asks, his voice a gentle caress against your skin as he presses his lips to your forehead.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the vulnerability that comes with laying your heart bare. "I... I love you, Remus," you confess, the words tumbling from your lips like a prayer into the night. "I love you more than I can put into words, and... and I'm sorry for not saying it sooner."

Remus's heart skips a beat at your words, the weight of them sinking deep into his soul. He watches you with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat, his eyes shimmering and a soft smile playing on his lips. Your breath catches for a moment, the feeling of regret quickly washing over you, but instead of rejection or hesitation, you feel the warmth of his hand tightening around yours, his touch a silent reassurance, urging you to keep talking.

"I love the way you always have a book tucked under your arm, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about," you confess, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love the way you look at me like I'm the only person in the room, the way you make me feel safe and loved."

You don’t give him the chance to respond, a sense of vulnerability creeping in, filling you with a fear you can't quite name. "I'm scared, Remus," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Scared of feeling so much about someone, scared of what might happen if I lose you."

Remus's heart aches at the raw honesty in your words, his own fears and insecurities laid bare before you. With a soft sigh, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses another tender kiss to your forehead.

"I'm scared too, love," he murmurs, his voice trembling with emotion. "But you have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words from you. I love you, too, more than anything in this world."

The tenderness in his voice sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, melting away the last of your doubts. You reach out, cupping his face in your hands as you press your lips to his, pouring all of your love and longing into the kiss.

Remus Taglist - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @remussbitch @nighttimewrites @starsval @whoknowsbut @gayforyelena @whoreforfictionalmen18 @darkacademicvibes @marauderswhxre @ravenclawprincess33 @helpimhopelesslyinlove @Yhiiil @themarauderswife7 @bath1lda @vcosette @rinalouu @agent-tempest @s0urw00lf @pinkestfloyd @l0v3do11 @unstablereader @wolfstar-marvelsfan @captainstanksblog @pinktreee @andrew-and-flower @slutforfictionalcharacterss @iamgayforyourmom1501 @cas-planet @poppysrin @camille-1019 @slytherinambitious @notyaslol

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[wannaeatramyeon]

Fem!reader Isekai in Lookism ?

Anon, so sorry I'm answering this exactly 3 months later. You're my last request from May and I was soooo close to deleting it because I have had exactly zero ideas. Then I got partly inspired by @honeyhotteok fic here and now I'm running on less than 3hrs sleep in work and it's your fault. Oh yeah, and I've completely twisted the ask as well. It's not even close. So all that wait was for nothing 🙇🏻‍♀️

Adventures of YOUR part time job in the Lookismverse

G/N. You work the graveyard shift in a convenience store. You meet bizarre characters on different nights. Part 2

There's something wrong with people your age these days.

Everyone seems to be either in a gang or up to some shady shit. Seriously what is going on. Is this all a big joke that only you aren't in on?

Just the other day you swear you saw a group of guys in boiler suits punch through some walls across the street. Like what the fuck? What did the wall ever do to you? And then someone apparently called Tabasco starts chanting something about Burn Knuckles and oh my fucking god it's 11pm please shut up.

Oh course you never said that, you still have some sense of self preservation.

And how does anyone even have the time for all this. Between school and this part time job, you barely have enough hours to sleep.

You miss Daniel, the coworker who you haven't seen for a good year but used to gossip into the early morning with. He always seemed a bit nervous and fidgety when you voiced your concerns and observations, but you just assumed he was a nervous and fidgety kinda guy.

There would have been some fun stories to share. Instead now you work the graveyard shift on your own.

.

.

Case in point, the guy standing in front of you looks like one bad conversation away from a mental breakdown.

And really you're not in the habit of checking out customers but he cuts a striking figure. Every exposed inch of skin besides his face inked, and (you silently ask for his forgiveness for the objectification) the biggest chest you have ever seen. What even is this guy eating? What is this guy injecting? Lifting?

The question is almost out of your mouth but then you see the look in his eyes and slam your lips shut.

Nevermind. You ring his purchases through and tell him to have a good night.

.

.

You're restocking the shelves when you notice a guy with a scar across his lip and nose, dripping blood from god knows where all over your freshly mopped floor.

Which is alarming in itself but come on man. Look at the floors. You're making it so fucking gross.

He notices you watching him, gives you an apologetic look and says he'll take care of it.

He makes a quick call and in comes 26 guys, one after the other and they line up in front of him.

You know it's exactly 26 because you counted all 26. And you've also watched all 26 pairs of dirty shoes trample over your previously nice clean floor.

The blood drippy guy asks politely for the mop and bucket and you think this must be some sort of prank because why the hell is this even necessary. 26 guys to share your one solitary mop and bucket and to clean a goddamn floor that you managed in 10 minutes.

"Get out." He blinks at you, taken aback by your tone. "Or I'm calling the police."

.

.

"You can bring your pups in!" You call out to the emo teen lurking outside.

Health and safety be damned because look how fucking cute these dogs are!

He hesitates but then the rain grows heavier and all three rush in.

You miss the suspicious glance he gives you, too fixated on how adorable the dogs are. You don't even mind their wet fur or muddy paws because look at these little babies!

And huh, this guy must really love them too with his, you squint, God? Dog? hoodie on. D'aww that's so stinking sweet.

.

.

Damnit, you knew these two would be trouble the moment they stepped foot into your store.

The tall blonde just gives off a distinct creepy vibe and the shorter one has his entire eyebrows shaved off.

Shaved. Off.

You couldn't help but stare when you put their purchases through and noticed some regrowth and stubble. Is this a trend you missed out on? Either way you're glad because there's no way you're shaving off your own eyebrows.

They converse in Japanese, not even saying a word to you. No thanks or anything, which is fine you suppose. But then they pay you in fucking yen.

They're out the door by the time you see the cash and fuck. Your boss is going to go apeshit when he finds out.

.

.

"What do you think, sweetheart?"

A new blonde guy addresses you tonight and for crying out loud, you just want a quiet shift.

What do you think of his white suit? With the garish LV logos? That it's tacky as fuck. That anyone with any sort of taste would never ever wear that. You keep your actual thoughts to yourself and instead just say it's fine.

That does nothing to subdue the blonde. He does stop talking to you though, and just mutters bitterly under his breath. You catch the words blind and tasteless.

His partner smirks at your response.

And isn't that a whole other kettle of fish because it's currently 2am and you're indoors and who the hell wears sunglasses right now. You think he's a douche of the highest calibre.

The smirk is wiped from his face when he asks for cigarettes and you ask for ID. He doesn't have it on him.

"No can do. No ID, no sale."

He leans aggressively into your space, and reveals his eyes peering over his sunglasses.

My god, what is up with this duo? One with the tacky suit, and this one with the ugly black contact lenses.

You don't budge and the guy is dragged out by the blonde cackling.

Ugh. That laugh gives you a headache for the rest of your shift.

.

.

You really wish customers would stop involving you in their conversation.

This one, who looks exactly like how you would imagine a SoundCloud rapper that has their mother following them and no one else, asks you to listen to his music.

He insists that he's good as the blonde girl rolls her eyes.

You listen to about 10 seconds and make up your mind.

He's wrong. He's very wrong. You want to suggest he gets checked out at the doctor because clearly his ears aren't working properly.

Instead, you mention you like Duke Pyeon, he's more your taste. Has he heard of him? It's the wrong thing to say though because this guy looks angrier than you've ever seen anyone.

"Don't start Vin, I've seen you listening to his music." The girl scoffs.

'Vin' shouts in indignation and storms off with his friend trailing closely behind.

.

.

"Can I help?" You ask with your customer service voice and customer service smile.

He has been standing in front of the hair dyes for a good ten minutes as his friend looks increasingly bored and you can't blame him.

"No thanks, I'm just browsing," he responds and you tell him you'll be just over there if he needs anything.

You kill some time playing on your phone, look up, and both of them are still in the exact same spot.

The one with the H on his neck looks about ready to tear his hair out.

"Come on bro, just pick one!"

"No Warren, this is important. I need it to suit my new aesthetics."

You shrug and return back to your kitty kat restaurant game.

.

.

"Cool glasses," you tell the guy walking around the store and he looks affronted at first before realising you're being sincere and gives you a small smile instead.

You wonder if you can pull off orange tinted glasses too or whether you'd just look like an idiot. It's probably the latter you decide when you ring up his energy drinks.

"I'm a boxer," he offers, as if you're judging the amount of caffeine he's going to slam down.

"Ok?"

"I need it for my training."

"Sure."

You've seen weirder purchases and weirder combinations. The people coming in looking frantic and buying a single plunger or pack of toilet paper never fails to make you chuckle.

To be honest the amount he's buying is a bit nuts, and you wonder if he's going to drink it all in one go. You probably wouldn't sleep for a year if it was you.

"Enjoy your training," you say, heaving and handing over the bag of 19 cans.

.

.

A mute blonde gestures at you

You try to use some sign language, but he looks at you as if you're crazy. At least you think he does but you can't see his eyes.

Somehow you're able to decipher he's lost his dogs. Four. Golden retrievers. And he asks if you have seen them.

(Huh. Do you have telepathy? Do you have the gift?)

You tell him no and he sprints out.

You spend the rest of your shift trying to move things with your newly discovered psychic powers.

Spoiler: you have zero powers. Zilch.

.

.

You think you might be having a stroke.

Because on what planet did this K-pop idol think the disguise would work. Cap and mask on but tufts of pink hair poking out and dressed completely in white.

It's like he's asking for attention and for people to ooh and aah over who that could be.

As he leaves, you shout that you can't wait for his next album. He turns around in complete shock that you recognised him, as if you solved the world's hardest puzzle.

It's a good job that DG has such a pretty face because what an idiot.

.

.

You hear two voices mention the words Daniel Park and your ears perk up, wondering if it's about your old colleague.

Nah. You're just being silly. It's not an uncommon name at all and too much of a coincidence.

"I haven't seen Daniel in ages! Have you heard from him, Zoe?"

"No," you see her friend shake her head from the corner of your eye.

The brown haired girl tilts her head in thought, "I wonder how Zack is doing too. I haven't seen him in so long."

"Ohhh~ you miss him!"

"O-of course I do! He's a friend!" She blushes bright red and you chuckle to yourself.

'Friend', sure.

For the rest of the shift, you reminisce about how you used to tiptoe around your feelings with your boyfriend, Taehoon, too.

#lookism #lookism x reader #lookism fic #vasco #euntae lee #samuel seo #jake kim #johan seong #ryuhei kuroda #kenta magami #goo kim #gun park #vin jin #mary kim #eli jang #warren chae #zack lee #jay hong #lookism dg #zoe park #mira kim #daniel park #wannaeatramyeon #you can really tell i wrote this at 4am #not my usual voice but man this was FUN

[deonsx]

Good Girl For Them

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor

Content: obscene speech

Dazai Osamu

You wanted him at work You wanted him at home you wanted him everywhere but he wasn't interested in you these days you knew what a serious guy he was at work

If it's a really serious business, you can never stop him, but it's been going on like this for 1 month, he doesn't take care of you, sometimes you even suspect that he's coming home, he sleeps at work or comes home for 2-3 hours

There's nothing he can't do in his job. A mission was more valuable than his own life. You tried to talk to him, but he promised you to pick up where he left off after his mission

But you really didn't like to put up with it, you were going to sleep alone tonight like any other night. But tonight you were feeling horny just like any other night, the only difference was you didn't want to deprive yourself

You wanted to touch yourself but you hesitated but you really started thinking about him you closed your eyes slowly undressed..everything was normal until you moaned his name "osamu..hah" you sighed your fingers went deep until you heard that voice

"So that's how you satisfy yourself while I'm gone, bella”

Your eyes widened at the sound you heard and I quickly sat up, "Osamu? It's not like that-" Osamu put his hand in his hair and scratched his face with a slight anger, "If that's what you want"

You couldn't speak, and he sat down slowly on the coffee table across the bed "Hm? What's the matter sweetie"

He was looking at you as if he was expecting something, you swallowed...you got out of bed and knelt in front of him "So cute" Your hands went to her pants and you unzipped them

“You're a good girl, aren't you?"

Chuuya Nakahara

You were working in your office and your boyfriend was front of your desk, and next to you was a boy who had just joined the team

You were all reviewing and organizing the documents the Boss gave, but you talked a little too much with the boy next to you and you got chuuya's full attention

The boy bent down in your ear to tell you something, suddenly the table slammed into the floor hard "what the hell are you talking to my woman?" looking at the boy, chuuya asked

The boy didn't answer and you didn't talk he just told you something about work and it made your boyfriend suddenly angry but you didn't find him wrong so you kept your silence

"We're leaving! We're done here for today, but you'll take care of the files for us" He made fun of him and grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you out of the office

He quickly pulled you into a corner. "Why are you letting him talk to you? Or does he have something that I don't?" he asked in a serious and slightly elevated tone

You laughed at his angry face "my love it's not possible she told me something about work it would be silly to look at another man than you"

He grinned at you, "So that's it… will you do whatever I say?" You nodded your head yes

“kneel my love”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

These days, you didn't even have time to stop by the house where the two of you live together, you were constantly going on missions

You were secretly working in the Agency to spy, for Fyodor and you couldn't find the time for her these days, but you didn't care, you wanted to give her important information and show her your worth

You were in one of those duties again and you were talking to the people in the agency, at that moment you felt a sense of being watched, but you thought it was not that important and continued the conversations

When it was evening, you finally came back to your house, your eyes were light sleepy, you saw him, you wanted to give the information as soon as possible and increase his confidence in you, in fact, you were doing everything for him

When you got home you saw your boyfriend Fyodor waiting in the dark "oh? didn't you sleep? I brought you good information" your voice rang with joy but no sound was heard from him

"Fyodor? What's the matter? Was there a leak in one of the missions—" he interrupted. "You think everything in my life is a mission?" You are stunned "I chose you as my girlfriend but you are not here even at night my dear?"

You didn't know what to say "I do everything for you... aren't you ?" your hair fell in front of your eyes, the man's eyes shone in the moonlight and he looked at you

"To happy me? Do you really want that?" You nodded but you thought to yourself did you really do all this to him but didn't he want it all this time? You looked forward to what he was going to tell you. Another mission? Or Assassination?

“Show me your Skills and kneel under the table”

Request Are Open

#bsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #dazai #dazai osamu #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai comfort #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs dazai #osamudazai #dazai x fem reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor smut #fyodor headcanons #dazai headcanons #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya smut #chuuya headcanons #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya x y/n #bungou stray dogs fyodor #osamu dazai #pm dazai #fypシ

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Faking It | Part VI

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE YOU GUYS!! This chapter took a lot out of me for some reason, but I'm pretty content with where we're at. Hope you like it!

PS. You will like it.

PPS. I promise you, you will like it XD

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: swearing, minor angst, FLUFFITY FLUFF

Start from the beginning: Part I

“Chicken is good,” Bradley says to his dinner plate.

Across the table, your aunt makes an enthusiastic sound in agreement and continues chewing.

“Delicious,” you respond curtly.

Bradley looks over at you, so you turn your head to meet his gaze. “Yours is better, darling,” he says, feigning a cordial tone, but you can see past the charade. He’s just as angry with you as you are with him.

“Her mushroom stuffed chicken is divine,” your mother chimes in.

“It’s her specialty,” Bradley says, quoting a line from the notes you’d given him to prepare for the weekend because, obviously, he’s never had your mushroom stuffed chicken. He presses his lips together although the smile he aims at you is acerbic.

You try your best not to roll your eyes at him.

“Does Bradley cook?” your aunt asks, watching the two of you with interest.

You glance at her in alarm, unsure how to respond since you don’t know the answer. You could make something up; nobody would know any better, but somehow that seems more dishonest than pretending he’s your boyfriend.

“I do, actually,” Bradley intervenes. You look at him gratefully and he returns your gaze with a slight nod. “Y/N is particularly fond of my shepherd’s pie.”

Your mother cringes at Bradley. “Y/N hates ground meat. She won’t even eat burgers.”

Bradley stares at your mother, speechless for a moment, while you try to keep your composure despite the rapidly encroaching panic.

“It’s uh… vegetarian,” he says quickly.

“Vegetarian shepherd’s pie?” your aunt asks. “Never heard of such a thing.”

“Mm-hm.” You start to nod vigorously. “It’s so good.”

“What do you make it with?” your mother asks and everybody at the table seems farcically fascinated with the concept of vegetarian shepherd’s pie.

You feel like the air is being sucked from your lungs as you watch Bradley purse his lips while he stalls. “Bradley, I totally forgot to bring my shawl from the chalet and I’m cold,” you say.

Bradley raises his eyebrows at you and you know exactly what he’s thinking: that it’s about a million degrees in this place. “Here.” He starts shrugging off his suit jacket and you nearly groan because he must know that you’re not actually cold.

You give him a pointed look as he starts to drape the jacket over your shoulders. “I’d really prefer my shawl,” you say, trying to keep the severity out of your tone.

“Oh, don’t make him go all the way back to the rooms, Y/N,” your aunt says sympathetically. Then, she adds, “He still has to tell us about this shepherd’s pie. I wouldn’t mind grabbing the recipe.” She beams at him.

“It’s uh,” Bradley says, “exactly like the one with meat. Except, you know, without it.” Bradley responds uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“There’s got to be more to it.” Your mother narrows her eyes. “Is it a secret?”

“What? No, of course not!” Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Oh! I love this song!” He jumps up from his chair. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s dance!”

You stare at him in horror, trying to determine exactly what song is playing over the hum of dinner conversation. The dance floor is empty because everyone is still eating. “I’m actually not a huge fan of” –

But Bradley doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he grabs your hand and pulls you out of your seat so quickly that his jacket flies off your shoulders.

“Don’t you worry,” your grandmother says, leaning down to pick up the jacket and hanging it over the back of your chair. “Go have fun, you two.”

You let out a sigh as Bradley drags you out into the middle of the dance floor, already grooving to the music as he walks. Now that you’re closer to the speakers, you recognize the song that apparently Bradley loves.

He tugs on your hand, forcing you to turn toward him, and you catch his eyes sweeping over your face before meeting your gaze. He lifts your hand, drawing you closer while taking you by the waist. He’s shimmying his shoulders to the beat, his lips curling into a smirk when you start to move your hips reluctantly.

When the chorus kicks in, Bradley starts to sing along. “Ooh baby, I love your way.” His voice is a little raspy and a lot sexy. You feel the now familiar turbulence wreak havoc on your organs, but Bradley continues his serenade, completely unaware of just exactly what it’s doing to you.

You feel your scowl dissolve as Bradley tries to engage you in the dancing by moving your arms around. You start to laugh when he twists you this way and that as he sings at the top of his lungs. Before long, you forget exactly why you’ve been upset with him, and your irritation seems hardly relevant at all, especially considering the lengths to which he’s going in order to keep up appearances.

Bradley extends his arm out and spins you before bringing you flush against his body. Your hips align with his and the two of you sway together from side to side, his hand clutching yours to his chest as he sings, “I wanna tell you I love your way, everyday. I wanna be with you night and day.”

When the next song comes on, other guests begin to step out onto the dance floor. “Might be safer to just stay out here,” he says, shrugging.

You nod. “Chicken wasn’t very good anyway,” you say, thinking of your half-finished dinnerplate.

He laughs. “Here’s hoping the cake will be chocolate,” he says, already dancing to the next song.

You chuckle, starting to move more freely to the upbeat music.

Bradley smiles at you appreciatively, grabbing your hand to swing you to the side while you grin, admiring his dancing skills. The DJ is playing all the old classics and you are both thoroughly enjoying the familiar melodies.

Several songs in, when the two of you are moderately out of breath, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see your sister’s smiling face. She leans in to whisper in your ear, “You guys look super cute together!”

The words send a bittersweet ripple through you because, on the one hand, it means your ruse has been a success but, on the other, it’s all a farce. Your feelings toward Bradley might be genuine, but Bradley is here as your friend. And he’s faking the rest of it. Nevertheless, you shoot your sister a wide grin, grateful for her support.

A few minutes later, Aly shows up to claim her dance with Bradley. You step aside and watch on as Bradley takes the girl’s hands and starts twirling her around with a giant smile on his face. He seems pleased that she’s remembered to find him. You laugh when he picks her up and swings her, feet first, on either side of his body. Aly is giggling merrily and, as he sets her back down, Bradley glances up at you briefly, giving you a lopsided grin and a wink.

The night seems to fly by as you and Bradley spend the majority of it on the dance floor. When your sister goes to do the bouquet toss, your mother pushes you into the throng of single women gathering eagerly behind the bride. You eye your mother crossly but, when you catch the amused smirk on Bradley’s face, you suddenly want to catch the damn bouquet.

The battle for the flying flowers is unexpectedly aggressive. There is a lot more elbowing than you’d expect, as well as a fair amount of shoving, kicking, and toe stomping. But, for some reason, you are determined to win. You end up catching the bouquet despite the numerous hands obstructing your view, and you turn back to your table and do a little victory dance as you walk back toward Bradley. He laughs at you, shaking his head.

“You’re such a goof,” he mutters in a low voice as you approach him, but the expression he wears is something reminiscent of fondness.

You drop your eyes because his gaze makes you blush. “Your turn,” you say in a sing-song voice, and he passes a hand over your stomach as he proceeds to join the rest of the bachelors awaiting the toss of the garter.

Your aunt cozies up to you as you watch Bradley approach the group of men on the floor. “I like him,” she says.

You turn to her in surprise.

“Don’t look so shocked,” she says. “I think he’s perfect for you.”

“More perfect than Steven?” you ask pointedly.

“Eh,” your aunt shrugs. “I never cared for Steven.”

“But he’s a doctor!” you exclaim in mock outrage, trying to emulate your mother’s tone when she’d learned of your decision to break up.

Your aunt chuckles. “Steven is a pompous ass.”

“Can you tell my mother that?”

Your aunt turns to face you. “I’ve never seen you look at Steven the way you look at Bradley.”

You bite your lip, wondering if she might also have noticed the way Bradley looks at you when you aren’t paying attention. But you can’t ask her that, so you turn back to observe the garter toss in silence.

You see that Steven has stepped into the crowd where he and Bradley promptly exchange menacing glares with one another. Bradley then turns his head to glance back at you over his shoulder. You wave at him just as the groom throws the garter and, by the time Bradley looks back, Steven jumps up to grab it.

You hold your breath as Steven dangles the garter in front of Bradley’s face and, for a moment, Bradley looks like he might punch him for being an idiot. But then Bradley lets out a long breath and turns to walk back toward you with a scowl.

“What does it mean?” he asks as he approaches you.

“Well,” you say. “Obviously it means that Steven and I are meant to be and that we’ll be getting married and having a bunch of babies.”

Bradley watches you impassively. “You’re funny,” he says. You smile at him mildly and he steps closer, wrapping his arm around you. “He’ll have to get past me first,” he mutters, and his words inspire yet another flutter in your gut that leaves you feeling buzzed.

But the sensation is interrupted by Steven’s arrogant drawl. “Shall we?” he says, and you turn to see him standing right behind you. “They’re waiting for us.”

You narrow your eyes at him as Bradley’s grip tightens on your hip. “Who’s waiting for us?”

“It’s customary for the woman who catches the bouquet and the man who catches the garter to dance,” your aunt says with a grimace.

You blink at her defeatedly and then glance up worriedly at Bradley. He lifts an eyebrow and squints his eyes, his hold loosening around your waist. “It’s just a dance,” he says, seeing the discomfort on your face. “Don’t let him get to you.”

You nod, releasing a wavering sigh, and turn toward Steven. “Let’s get this over with,” you say.

Steven grins at you. “That’s the spirit,” he says, taking your hand to lead you out onto the now empty dance floor. He glances over his shoulder as the two of you make your way to the center, a faint smirk materializing on his face when his eyes lock on Bradley.

Steven places his hand on your side and pulls you closer when the song starts. As the two of you slowly rotate, you can see Bradley watching you from the sidelines, a hard expression coloring his features.

Steven brings you into an embrace. “Feels like old times,” he says.

“Not really,” you respond coldly, trying to regain some space between your bodies.

“Don’t tell me you’re serious about this aviator,” he says.

You glance up at him indignantly. “Of course, I’m serious about him. I wouldn’t have brought him to my sister’s wedding if I weren’t.”

He chuckles. “You forget that I know you very well,” he says.

You swallow, wondering what he’s getting at.

Steven eyes you with a devious smirk. “He’s not your boyfriend,” he says.

“Excuse me?” you say, offended and anxious in equal measure.

He chuckles. “Sure, maybe he’s a friend,” he says, shrugging. “But that dude is not dating you.”

“What are you talking about?” You want to ask how he could tell, but you don’t want to give anything away.

“The closest you have gotten to each other is a quick hug here and there. You look like you’re afraid to touch him,” he says. “So, the question is, why did you feel the need to bring him? You didn’t know I’d be here, so it wasn’t to make me jealous.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” you scoff.

He raises his eyebrows. “It’s your mom, isn’t it? She’s pushing you to start dating again. She’s always been a big fan of mine.”

You roll your eyes. “Stop talking, Steven.”

Steven brings his face closer to yours. “Making me jealous is just an added benefit, isn’t it? Well, I’m here to tell you that it worked. Even if you aren’t actually dating the guy.”

“I couldn’t care less how you feel about my relationship,” you respond, gritting your teeth.

Steven chuckles. “‘Relationship’,” he repeats, using his right hand to make air quotes.

You’re seething so much that your head starts to hurt and, just as you’re about to walk away from him, you feel a soft touch along your shoulder blade. Bradley steps around you, giving Steven an icy look. “I can take over from here, Steven,” he says casually, as if interrupting a traditional slow dance in front of an audience is regularly scheduled programming.

Steven stares at him in astonishment, completely lost for words. Bradley doesn’t wait for him to respond; he takes your hand out of Steven’s and leads you away.

You raise your eyebrows as Steven stands alone in the middle of the floor, looking around awkwardly. Meanwhile, you feel Bradley’s hand slide up your waist and pull you in, swaying you gently to the music. You gulp as Steven glares at you before turning on his heel and making his way toward your table, where your aunt and mother are standing and watching the action unfold.

“Bradley,” you say quietly.

“Hm?”

You glance up at him anxiously. “He knows,” you say. “Steven knows.”

“Knows what?” he asks.

You bite your lip. “That you’re not really my boyfriend. That all of this is fake.”

Bradley makes a skeptical face. “Did you tell him?”

“Of course not! He guessed.”

Bradley chuckles. “How?”

You shrug. “Apparently, we’re not affectionate enough.”

Bradley narrows his eyes, one corner of his mouth curling upward slightly. “What are you proposing?”

“I’m not proposing anything! I’m saying, the jig is up and we’re fucked,” you whisper feverishly. “Oh god, he’s talking to my mother. He’s going to tell her!”

Bradley lets out a slow sigh and pulls you a tad closer. “Hey,” he says. “There’s nothing to tell. Remember what I said? Don’t let him get to you.”

You glance up into Bradley’s eyes and, for a single moment, the background fades into nonexistence and your troubles with Steven seem a million miles away. But then, you shift back to reality, suddenly aware of the entire room watching you dance with your supposed boyfriend whom you can’t even kiss him.

As if on cue, Bradley says in a low voice, “You know, there is a way we can be more convincing as a couple.”

You stare at him for a moment while he watches you carefully, probably analyzing your reaction. His gaze drops down to your lips and you instinctively crane your neck before you can stop yourself. Bradley’s eyebrows twitch as a mystified expression passes fleetingly over his features. You note the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows uneasily; the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his face nears yours.

“What do you think?” he mutters, so close now that the tip of his nose brushes against the tip of yours.

There’s so much commotion in your chest, you feel like your ribs might rupture trying to keep it contained. “Uh,” you breathe, not confident you can articulate a more complex sound. You hope that his question is rhetorical in nature and that he’s not actually expecting a response.

Bradley steps about a millimeter closer, the hand he kept on your hip now sliding slowly up your side. You can feel his fingers clasp around your bent elbow, lingering there for a moment before trailing up your arm, its trace along your bare skin electric.

You let your lips part when you feel the heat of his breath as it mixes with yours, your slow dance coming to a near standstill as the two of you waver in uncertainty. You know that kissing Bradley Bradshaw will be the ultimate annihilation of whatever chance you might have had at restoring a platonic friendship with him once the weekend is over. Perhaps not for Bradley, but certainly for you. You also know that kissing Bradley Bradshaw is the best method of proving the authenticity of your relationship to your mother and Steven.

But before you can continue to contemplate the risk-reward ratio of kissing him, you feel Bradley’s bottom lip skim over your top one, and you could swear that your body might shatter upon impact. If Bradley, by some chance, determines to kiss you kiss you, you might not survive it. But despite the ever-present possibility that you may die if you were to actually lock lips with Bradley Bradshaw, you are now convinced, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are willing – nay, aching – to hazard it.

And just as you begin to wonder whether Bradley is on the same page, his mouth closes around yours. For a moment, neither of you breathes, giving you ample opportunity to acknowledge the fact that you aren’t dead but, on the contrary, extremely alive. You are submerged in sensation, baffled by how many things in your body can feel.

And then Bradley breathes out forcefully, taking a step into you, his arm curving around your back to keep you steady as he presses his body against yours. His lips begin to move, inviting yours into a desperate, delirious dance.

You let your hand travel up his chest and behind his neck, your fingers grazing his skin as he leans closer. Meanwhile, his hand is suddenly in your hair, contending with the mass of bobby pins as he attempts to rake his fingers right through. Instead, he resolves to grip a chunk of it by your ear, interrupting the kiss for a moment to let out a low chuckle against your mouth. At that, you slide your hand to the back of his head, pushing him toward you again.

Bradley resumes kissing you eagerly, both his hands now arriving on either side of your face, his thumbs brushing tenderly over your cheeks.

Somewhere beyond, one song ends and another begins. There is movement on the outside, some shuffling, and you finally open your eyes just as your glorious kiss comes to a conclusion.

Bradley rests his forehead on yours, breathing heavily into the small space between your faces while neither of you dare to say a word.

There are others on the dance floor now. Dancing, laughing, not paying the two of you the slightest bit of attention. And why would they? You’ve just done what any normal couple would do. Nobody knows how the moment transported you, how it has altered you.

Then, Bradley speaks. “Do you think they’ll miss us?”

“What?” you breathe, your foreheads still together as you watch his mouth move.

He bites into his lip. “If we leave now,” he says. “Will they notice we’re gone?”

Your heart starts to hammer once again. “What about the cake?” you ask.

“The cake?” he says, and you feel the skin of his forehead wrinkle as he furrows his brows.

“What if it’s chocolate?” you ask.

Bradley’s mouth curls into an amused smile. “Could be diamond for all I care.”

“That would be tough on the teeth.” You make a grimace to lighten the mood but, on the inside, you’re crumbling. Bradley wants to leave. He wants to leave so he isn’t forced to kiss you again.

Bradley lets out a steady sigh and takes a step toward you, the movement bringing your bodies together. You close your eyes because you’re far too close to see anything meaningful anymore anyway. “I could give a fuck about the cake, Y/N,” he says hoarsely.

Read Part VII

Tag List:

I will try my best to tag the rest of this list in the comments! Might take a while bc I can only tag 5 at a time, so I might finish tagging in the morning. If I don't get to you, I'm sorry!

XOXO

@lonelywitchv2

@fanboyluvr

@marrianena

@anotherr-fine-mess

@mrs-obrien

@living-in-my-imagination88

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@whitewolfsbitch

@beebslebobs

@gretagerwigsmuse

@mak-32

@strangunddurm

@desert-fern

@maverick-wingman

@jamielovesbucky

@n3ssm0nique

@misshoneypaper

@roosterscockpit

@jakexfmc

@wintercap89

@gracielou0518

@averyhotchner

@bxwitched

@yeetzel

@xoxabs88xox

@cynisarmy

@kwanimations

@onlygetaway

@hope-love-equality2

@shanimallina87

@ijustwantedplums

@oliviah-25

@gayforsteve

@gingerbreadandpaper

@vemonbby

@sebastianstansimp

@alexxavicry

@spn-marvel-nerd

@army24--7

@emmy626

@criminalyetminimal

@candid-confetti

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@thefandomimagines

@moony-artemis

@my-secret-life-1

@roostereads

@currentlybradshaw

@whisperofsong

#bradley bradshaw #top gun #rooster #miles teller #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #rooster x y/n #top gun fanfiction #fake dating

[kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay]

Best Friends on paper 📮

Summary: You've been matched up with a pen pal through a website, but what is merely an outlet for you and a confidant to tell your secrets to, is something completely different for him.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader (hinted at short!Reader too)

(No use of descriptive words for Reader's appearance. If you do stumble across one, please let me know and I'll immediately find a more inclusive alternative)

Warnings: 18+, non-con (touching, fingering), kidnapping of sorts, deranged Steve Rogers, manipulation, forced relationship, obsession and obsessive baheviour

Word count: 2k

Author's note: My second entry for @the-slumberparty's BINGO challenge! The squares I filled this time are "Pen pals", "Campfire", "Beach day" and "Brainwashing"

We love us some deranged, obsessed Steve Rogers and when I read the Pen Pal square, I knew we needed Mister Old-fashioned to make an appearance! Have fun reading this one ;D

...

“You said you loved me. You did. Stop struggling,” Steve grunts into you ear, his hand firmly planted over your mouth as he drags your flailing form further away from your group of friends.

Your kicking and muffled protests don't deter him, his hulking frame dwarfing yours easily, allowing him to effortlessly man-handle you as he pleases.

“Shhh, sweetheart. It's just me, just Steve. I'm your friend, remember?” the man husks, his hot breath dampening the back of your neck.

Your shake your head as best as you can, your mind spinning with the disorientating events crashing down on your.

“You're not my friend,” you try to say, but it only comes out as stifled mumbling from behind the gigantic paw covering up half your face to keep you quiet.

This isn't Steve, it can't be. Steve is nice, sweet. He'd been matched to you on a random pen pal website you signed up on out of boredom, the two of you hitting it off quickly and building a nice bond through the letters you sent each other regularly.

It's a little old-timey, but you enjoyed writing Steve letters. He even included a picture of himself in one of them and you did the same in return.

But this brute behind you, that is not the man from the picture.

Steve is short, a little skinny, and his hair has a pretty shade of blond and his smile is infectious.

The man stealing you away from the roaring fire burning by the shore, your friends still scattered around it in small groups, is not short or skinny.

He is dragging your jerking body through the sand, your feet uselessly slipping on the little grains of sand while you watch the camp fire grow smaller, the flickering flames no longer illuminating the ground around you, its warmth too far to comfort you.

Before you know what is happening, you're hauled up a slippery dune, now finally out of sight for all your friends or any by-passers as you're shoved down the other side.

There, in between dunes and bushes, sits a picnic blanket, small lanterns standing on two corners of it that light up the space.

“It's me, Steve. I did all this for you. You always said you wanted to have a picnic by the beach and spend the night outside looking at the stars. I remember it. You said it in one of your first letters you sent to me,” the man babbles, his tone so urgent he sounds almost possessed.

His words are what concerns you though, not how he says them. Because it's the truth. You'd told your pen pal Steve about wanting to spend a night at the beach to watch the stars, had laid out the whole romantic fantasy you dreamed of on lonely nights.

You reach the blanket and the hand on your face loosens. You're spun around to face your kidnapper and when you instinctively lift your head to stare up at the man's face, your heart sinks.

“Hi, sweetheart. I knew you'd recognise me,” Steve says with a wide smile, his white teeth glinting in the low light of the lanterns around you.

You're petrified. This man does look like Steve. But he's bigger, stronger. And this big, scary man knows all your deepest secrets and desires.

You've told Steve everything, because what could be the harm in it? He's always been states away, just a picture you keep in your desk drawer and ink-soaked pieces of paper. You never thought there would be any harm in confiding in him.

Well, you were wrong.

“You- You..” stammer and stare up at him. “You look different.”

Steve grins and shrugs as if he didn't look like he could easily break you in half as opposed to the skinny boy he's sent you a picture of.

“You too. Better, so much better in person. God, you're beautiful. Come here,” he says and without warning moves his hands from your arms where he was holding you still to your face and swoops in for a forceful kiss.

You let out a startled sound and jerk your hands up to push at him, but he doesn't budge, hips lips firmly pressed to yours, tongue poking at them as he tries to gain entrance.

Your muffled protests make him stop eventually, his face pulled into a frown as he pulls his head away to peer down at you.

“What is wrong? You said you loved me, sweetheart. I came all the way to surprise you, I prepared this night. It needs to be perfect, so play along! It's your fantasy after all,” he says, an edge to his voice as he scowls down at you.

“I- I... Steve, I don't love you, I don't even know you, I-”

“Stop! You know me, we've been writing letters for months. I know what you like and what you dream of for your future. I know your favourite food and colour. I said I love you and you said it back! You wrote it in our letters, you did!” Steve shouts, his face reddening with agitation.

You take a step back, now positively terrified of the deranged man before you. How could he be the same person who's been writing you fro almost a year now?

“Sit down, come on, sit. We're going to enjoy this night, I made it perfect for you,” he says, quieter now, but still obviously displeased by your resistance.

Not daring to disobey and upset this crazy man, you let Steve push you down on the blanket. He sits down next to you and then forces you to recline into a laying position. He lies down as well and then grabs your hand, his fingers forcing your clenched ones apart to hold them.

You lie there, heart beating wildly and wide eyes staring at the night sky, the stars twinkling back at you as they watch the situation unfold.

“Isn't this nice? Good thing the sky is clear. I've been waiting for the weather to clear up and tonight is just perfect for our first night together. The first of many,” Steve swoons beside you, his deep voice floating around you.

Your hand hangs limply in his as you try to get a grip on your situation.

All you wanted was to spend a day at the beach with your friends. You had brought food and snacks for the whole day and enough wood to keep your camp fire going through the night.

But that is forgotten now, your friends too far away to help or hear you and this psycho beside you instead of someone else, someone you knew.

“You're so beautiful, baby. I looked at your picture every day, wondering how soft your skin would be under my fingertips, what you would smell like, taste like...” Steve rumbles beside you, his head turned to look at you, warm breath ghosting over your cheek.

You swallow, stiff as a board and terrified of the meaning of his words.

“Will you let me find out, sweetheart? You will, won't you? I know you want to,” he says, his hand letting go of yours as he shifts up onto his elbow to stare down at you.

When you don't answer, too scared to say no and not wanting to say yes, he lets out a huff.

“Playing hard to get? Let me convince you...”

You don't have time to react, Steve's frame moving with a speed that should be impossible for someone so big, slotting between your legs with a shove of his hips.

He widens his thighs as he kneels between yours, pushing them further apart when you jerk away and try to close them.

“No! Steve, stop. No, no, no-” You start to chant, hands slapping at every bit of him that you can reach as some sort of survival instinct kicks in.

“Stop pretending you don't want this! I know everything about you, you told me. I know you want this, I know, I know, I know,” he barks, repeating himself over and over as if he's trying to convince you.

Grabbing your flailing hands in one of his, he gets to work on ripping off your swim clothes, the thin fabric stretching and ripping underneath his violent hand until it's gone and your body is bared to his eyes.

“Pleeease, no,” you sob out, legs kicking on either side of his, hands fighting in his grip to cover yourself, but he doesn't budge.

“Shhhh, you'll like it, sweetheart. I'm good at this, I promise,” he shushes you, his words of affirmation doing nothing to quell the horror and shame of being naked and at the mercy of this lunatic.

You squeak when he reaches down and easily finds your clit, spit-wet finger getting to work and drawing tight circles around the little nub while you squirm and whine beneath him.

But there's no getting away and you have no choice but to endure his patient rubbing and circling, forced to witness your body's surrender that comes in the form of thick slick collecting at your entrance.

Shame boils hot in your gut and when Steve lets go of your hands in favour of kneading your breasts, you hide behind your sweaty palms. You can't look at him, you won't.

“There we go, your body knows what you need, baby. Look at that pretty little pussy getting nice and wet for me,” Steve mumbles appraisingly, finger abandoning your clit in favour of exploring further down.

He pushes one thick finger inside your pussy, the digit easily slipping in. It's quickly followed by another and he twists his hand to rest the heel of it on your clit.

“So tight, hmm. Made for me,” Steve mumbles to himself, eyes fixated on where he's sinking his digits into you.

He starts fingering you, fingers pushing in and out of you, his hand grinding into your clit harder and harder the faster he goes.

You can't hide the noises he pulls from you, wet squelching and helpless moans alike ringing out around you.

The familiar hot tension in your gut rises and your hands slap down on the blanket beside you, fingers fisting the fabric when Steve angles his fingers just so, rubbing that spot inside you that sends tingles of pleasure shooting down your legs and up your back.

“Come on, come for me. I know you need it, your little pussy is clenching down on my big fingers. Feels good, doesn't it?” he eggs you on, hand speeding up and finally tipping you over that edge.

“There we go, yes! Good girl,” Steve exclaims triumphantly as he works you through your orgasm, watching your trembling limbs with a deranged kind of satisfaction.

He pulls his fingers out of you with a wet sound and lifts them to his mouth. You watch through half-lidded eyes how he opens his mouth and sucks your slick from his fingers with a pleasured moan, his own eyes falling shut.

“Knew you'd taste good, baby. So good. I need more, baby. I'm sorry, I can't help it, I just need more,” he rambles, hastily shifting between your limp legs until his face is level with your sensitive pussy, slick still leaking from the twitching opening.

“Just a taste...” he grunts before sticking out his tongue and dragging it across the length of your cunt with an obscene moan.

You jerk away when he touches your clit, but his hands swiftly wrap around your thighs, keeping your core anchored to his face.

Whines and breathless gasps escape you as you writhe in his hold, your head growing foggy with the pleasure forced on you.

When your second orgasm rushes through you in a shuddering wave and Steve keeps going on, you limply resign yourself to a long night of forced pleasure. With him, there's no getting away.

Never.

After all, he knows everything about you.

...

There we go, he's got her in his clutches now-

Here's my updated Bingo card!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers one shot #writing challenge #bingo challenge #the slumberparty bingo challenge

[cowgurrrl]

Ok I have fluff angst idea…Charlie is pregnant and freaking out about telling Joel because she is kinda young. And Joel is mad, scared, excited , crying and also grandpa Joel?!

Hello why did this make me tear up

April, Come She Will

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: it’s canon to me that reader and Joel live to be 100 and nothing bad ever happens to them ever again

Summary: The next generation of Millers find their way [3.6k]

Warnings: teen pregnancy (what’s new for this series lmao), arguing, language, call backs

Charlie's been acting weird for the past few weeks. She's been coming in and out of the house at strange times, not showing up for patrol, and giving you vague answers about where she's been. She's nineteen now, so she doesn't necessarily need you and Joel breathing down her neck all the time, but you still like to know where your kid is. She tells you she's been with Ellie or her boyfriend, Eric, which is fine. You like Eric. You just wish she would spend a little more time at home. 

Charlie and Eric met on patrol. No matter how much you tried to dissuade her from joining the patrol team, she wouldn't listen. She had watched you guys go out and defend Jackson as she grew up and even talked to Ellie about her adventures outside the walls. She knew how to ride a horse, and Joel taught her how to handle a gun. The intention was never to "train" her for patrol but to be prepared in a worst-case situation where she needed to protect herself but the second she was old enough, she signed up. She got paired with Eric, a sweet boy her age she went to school with, for her first patrol, and that was it. They've been together ever since. 

Joel was hesitant when they started dating, but you reminded him she was an adult and could make her own decisions. Eric was somehow more hesitant when Charlie invited him over for a family dinner. Eric grew up hearing stories about your family, and his dad occasionally worked patrol with Joel, but knowing him by proxy is much different than sitting across from him at the dinner table. Joel promised to be on his best behavior, but poor Eric was terrified any time Joel asked him a question. Since then, they've gotten a little closer, but they are by no means buddies. You're a little nicer.

All this runs through your head when Eric trails behind Charlie into the house. It's a Saturday, and you and Joel are off patrol, sitting next to each other on the couch. You were supposed to go see Ellie and Dina, but they rescheduled for next weekend without much explanation as to why. JJ might've gotten in trouble. At seventeen, he has more of Ellie's wild personality than anything else. It's a little fun to watch her try to handle a younger version of herself. 

"Hey, can we talk?" Charlie asks, a slight tremble in her voice. You look up from your book, and Joel leans forward to drop his wood carving knife on the coffee table. She and Eric sit across from you, her leg bouncing anxiously when she does, and you glance between them. You're a little confused as to why Eric has to be here for this, but she's clinging to his hand so hard you almost worry she's gonna break it. Worry claws at the back of your throat, but you swallow it down. Whatever it is, you can handle it.

"Sure, bug," you say. "What's up?" 

"Um, so there's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I wanted to get some things squared away before I did because I didn't want you guys to freak out or anything. I understand this is a really big deal, but it's under control, and we have a plan." She explains rapidly, and Joel chuckles as he removes his glasses to rub at his eye.

"You ain't pregnant, are you?" He asks, and Charlie is silent. That's when you feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Your mouth goes dry, and you sit up, staring at her like you're waiting for her to say she's joking. "Charlotte," Joel says, his tone even and scarily calm. "You're not. Right?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she says, tears shining in her eyes. "But we… we have a plan. We're gonna get set up in a house, and Ellie's gonna lend us some of JJ's old things, and we're gonna pick up some more shifts before the baby comes. It's all gonna be okay."

You can't help but feel like you set her up for failure, not only with your own teen pregnancy but with your inability to keep her safe. In the old days, you might've been able to put her on birth control or give her condoms when she started dating, but those things aren't on the top of the list for what little FEDRA manufacturing is left. The best "safe sex" talk you could have with her is letting her know her options if she did get pregnant or sick. You hated it, but there wasn't much else you could do. And now look where you are. 

"Mom, can you please say something?" Charlie begs as Eric rubs her back. You thought you'd be prepared for something like this with your and Joel's (and Ellie's) family life starting earlier than most. Instead, you find yourself, possibly for the first time ever, sympathizing with your mother. You pull yourself together enough to open your mouth. 

"You wanna have this baby?" You ask, and she nods. 

"We already decided. We're not gonna get married or anything yet, but yeah, we want this baby," she says. Eric doesn't say anything. You figure that's probably smart. It's only a matter of time before Joel freaks the fuck out about the fact that he got your baby girl pregnant. "That's why I went to Ellie's the other day. I was talking to her, Aunt Dina, and Uncle Jesse about when they had Jay." She says. You try not to be offended that she told Ellie before she told you. You told lots of people before you told your mom you were pregnant. Still, you thought you and Charlie were closer than you and your mom were. 

You look at Joel, the same panic and anger taking over his features, and take a deep breath. He grinds his teeth as he thinks, and you have to stop yourself from scolding him. When you look back at Charlie, her face is splotchy, and her brown eyes sparkle in the mid-afternoon light. She looks so grown up but so little at the same time. Your eyes slide from hers to Eric's wide ones.

"I'm assuming you know the stories about Jane and her dad?" You ask.

"Yes, ma'am." He croaks, and you nod.

"And I'm assuming you know how Joel and I got to Jackson in the first place?" 

"Mom," Charlie starts, but you catch Joel shaking his head at her in your peripheral vision. Eric swallows thickly and nods.

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Good," you say. "If I ever hear anything about you not being there for Charlie or that baby, or if you even think about leaving them, I'll fucking kill you." You haven't had to speak this way in years, and it, obviously, rattles both Charlie and Eric. Good. You hope it does rattle him. 

"Mom!" Charlie scolds, looking to Joel for help, but it's clear that he has your back with this one. You'll be damned if she ends up a single parent like you two were. She scoffs and stands, pulling Eric up with her. "You don't have to listen to this, Eric."

"Yes, he does." You say.

"Baby, what did you think we were gonna say?" Joel asks. 

"That you'd support my decision or, at least, find a way to!" 

"Of course, we support you. I just..." Joel trails off. "I just don't think you know what this means. How much this is gonna change your life. And I know you love each other, but havin' a baby ain't an easy thing."

"That's why we're doing it together," she says, her eyes moving from Joel's to yours. "That's why it's fucking crazy to talk to him like that. And unfair. You didn't act this way when Ellie had JJ." 

"That's because we didn't need to have this same talk with them. Jesse and Dina had already decided to co-parent Jay. There was no way Dina was gonna be a single mom," you say. "But there were three of them, and it was still hard. You were just a baby when he was born, so you don't remember, but it was a lot."

"So, you don't think I can be a mom?" She asks, and you stand with your hands up in defeat.

"I didn't say that. I just want you to be prepared. I remember what it was like, and I-"

"Just because you were miserable when you had Jane doesn't mean everyone is." It's mean and calculated and hits you right where it hurts. It doesn't matter if it's the hormones or not. The sting of her words renders you silent. 

"Don't you speak to your mother that way!" Joel yells. He never yells anymore, especially at Charlie. The scary boom in his voice fills the room, but you catch the glint of tears in his eyes as his breathing stutters. "This ain't just playin' house, Charlie. So, if your mama is a little worried, she's allowed to be. Shit, we're all allowed to lose our fuckin' minds for a minute, but that isn't an excuse to talk bout your family like that." He says, and she taps her shoe on the ground twice, a nervous tick she picked up from Joel.

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I can't just sit here and listen to you threaten Eric like that," she says. You nod but don't apologize. You can't find anything to say. Charlie stares at you like she's waiting for you to lash out or yell at her, but you can't. She wipes a stray tear away furiously and turns away. "I need some air," she mumbles, dragging Eric out of the house before you can even protest. The door slams behind her, and the floorboards she took her first steps on shake with the force. Joel reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. He murmurs soft assurances into your hair, his voice cracking and tears spilling from his eyes as he does, and all you can do is let him hold you. 

What the fuck else are you supposed to do?

You wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of the bathroom door in the hall slamming open. You and Joel jolt upright in bed at the sudden sound (old habits die hard, right?), and you sigh as you rub your eyes. You check the alarm clock next to your bed for the time and see it's close to three. The dark mountain town is still asleep outside your window, and you grab a soft flannel from the floor to pull over your shoulders. 

You don't remember falling asleep. You were up, waiting for Charlie to come home so you could talk further, but when the front door opened and closed, and she basically sprinted to her room, you couldn't find the energy for another fight. But when you laid down, you couldn't sleep either, your conversation from earlier playing on a loop in your mind. You and Joel just sat there in silence, staring up at the ceiling until your eyelids got too heavy, and you fell into a dreamless sleep. You couldn't have been asleep for over an hour or two when the bathroom door swung open. Joel looks at you, confused when you stand.

"What are you doin'?" He asks, and you wave him off.

"I know why she's up. Just go back to bed." You say without much explanation before padding down the hallway and into the bathroom.

Your footsteps are loud enough on the tile for her to hear you, so she doesn't flinch when you suddenly pull her hair away from her face and hold it out of the way. She glances at you and softens a little before retching into the toilet again. She does that for another minute or two before her stomach is finally empty, and you can safely let go of her hair. She sighs and leans against the wall as you flush the toilet and hand her a towel. You settle across from her, your back pressed against the sink, and rub her leg as she wipes her face. 

"Thanks," she mumbles as she tips her head back against the wall. She looks tired and weak. All you want to do is scoop her up in your arms like she's three years old again. "I feel like shit."

"I'm sorry. That's my genetics. I was super sick with you and Jane." Her name rolls off your tongue so fast you almost forget the last time it was invoked. The air stiffens between you, and she shifts uncomfortably. 

"How long were you sick for?" She asks softly. You sigh as you track your memory back and try to remember the exact details.  

"About six months," you admit, and she groans. You laugh a little at her reaction, but only because you know how frustrating it is. If you could take it from her, you would. When you settle, she stares at you guiltily and starts picking at the nail bed around her thumb like she can't stand the silence. "Where did you guys go?" you ask to put her out of her misery.

"I just… needed to get out of the house. We walked around town for a while before going to his parent's house," she says. "They still don't know. We wanted to tell y'all first." You nod, unable to give words to your gratitude just yet, and she swallows thickly.  

"You could've stayed," you whisper. "I wanted you to stay."

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry. For everything." She looks like she could start crying again, so you take a deep breath, scoot over to her, wrap her in your arms, and kiss her temple. You feel her relax into you, and a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

"You know your dad and I worry about you. It's not about you not being capable or not smart enough because you are plenty capable and smart. But we also know that it doesn't matter how prepared you think you are. There's nothing that can prepare you for being a parent, and that's not me trying to scare you. It's just how it is." You explain, and she nods into your neck. 

"That's what Ellie said, too." She says. 

"Smart kid." 

"I feel like I fucked up," she pivots dramatically, but you hold on tightly and wait for her to continue. I'm right here with you, baby girl, you think. "I want to be happy because Eric seems happy, and you're supposed to be happy when you find out you're pregnant, but I'm so fucking scared." She sounds like she's on the brink of tears again, and you shush her. She sighs heavily and wipes at her face as she leans back enough to see you. "Were you scared when you found out you were pregnant?"

"Both times, I was fucking terrified. With you, it came later, though. Even though your dad and I talked about having another kid and how amazing you'd end up being, I remember going into labor and shaking cause of how scared I was." You say, and she nods. 

"How did you... know you were supposed to be a mom? She asks. It's a loaded question. How does anyone ever know they're "supposed" to be a parent? You certainly didn't think you were meant for anything that important at sixteen, but you do remember why you made the decision you did. 

"I, um…" you trail off, laughing. "I started having these dreams after I found out I was pregnant."

"Dreams?" 

"It was pretty much the same thing over and over again for a few months. I would be going through my regular routine, but this… baby was following me around. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl, but I knew it was my baby. And it came with me to school, the grocery store, work, everything, and as time passed in my dream, the bigger the baby got. They'd get more personality or start laughing, or their eyes would change colors, and I'd be so in love with them," You know you sound crazy, but that's because it was crazy. "The first few times, I woke up crying because the baby from my dreams wasn't there. I thought there was nothing worse than waking up in the morning and not having my kid there," you say. The weight of your words catches up with you, and you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying. "And I was right." You shake your head and take a deep breath, hyper-aware of her eyes on you.

"I had the same dreams when I got pregnant with you, except they were a little different. In all of them, you were always with Ellie and Dad— every single time. I thought you were gonna grow up and not like me as much or whatever other reason my hormones gave me for the change, but, towards the end, you started showing up alone. You were just this little light. I can't describe it exactly, but everything I did in the dream was a little more magical because you were there. Things were shiny or glittery, and you would just giggle and giggle and giggle," you say, smiling at the memory. You grab her hand and squeeze hard, looking directly into her eyes and fighting more tears. "You turned my world technicolor even before you were born, and I knew I would always do everything I could to protect you. That's why I was so hard on Eric. I know he's a good kid and nothing like Jane's dad was, but I don't want you to end up like me, kid." Charlie squeezes your hand, somehow harder than you squeeze her, and a familiar crease appears between her eyebrows.

"Mommy, if I'm half the woman you are, I'd be so fucking happy. Are you kidding me?" She says. 

"Charlotte-" 

"I'm serious," she cuts you off, Joel's commanding yet gentle tone seeping into her voice. "Mom, you made my lunch until I was in high school, and even when I asked you to stop, you still had one ready to go just in case I needed it. You used to take JJ and me to the park so Ellie and Aunt Dina could get some sleep, even though everyone knew that meant you didn't get any. You convinced Dad to talk to Eric because you knew I loved him and wanted him to like him..." She slows down a little bit, scanning your face before she continues. "You kept a kid alive during the Outbreak despite everything. You still buy her flowers on her birthday. You tell me about her. You let me know her," you take a shaky breath, and you can't stop the tears anymore. "You're a good mom, and I'm so lucky to have you, and I'm sorry for what I said and for getting pregnant and-" 

This time, you stop her by hugging her tight and letting yourself cry. She gets emotional, too, and a very unlucky Joel finds the two of you crying on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. Like everything, he takes it in stride and joins you two on the floor until the sun breaches over the mountains and a new day shines down. 

It's hard to say things got easier after that day. Eric's parents didn't react very positively at first, and it took them most of her pregnancy to come around. Charlie goes through weeks of sickness and bed rest. They argue a lot about the future and what it should look like, but they get there in the end. The next year, the house is filled with a familiar chatter and chaos. Charlie and Eric's twins (which explains why she felt so bad), Elliot "Ellie" Beth, and April Theresa Miller-Donovan, squeal as Joel takes turns dancing with them in the living room.

Elliot is, obviously, named in honor of your Ellie, but she bears Sarah's middle name. April threw you for a loop. The twins were born in snowy January, confusing you as to why they would name her that and not January, but Charlie smiled as she handed April to you. "Jane's birthday is April 7th. I didn't want to steal your name, but I remember you taking me to the meadow to pick flowers for her. April 7th was always my favorite day." She explained, making you choke up. When she told you April's middle name, you and Joel completely lost it. Theresa, for your Tess, the woman who believed so much in Ellie, she forced you to believe in her, too. The woman who saved your life in more ways than one. The woman who would've absolutely adored Charlie if she ever met her. 

You love being grandparents again— admittedly, a little older than you were the first time around. Joel teaches the girls Spanish words and lets them pull on his beard. You make extra food so your baby has something to eat after the long days and nights of keeping them alive, and you play silly games with them. They don't look like you or Joel or even Charlie or Eric. They look like their own little people. People who will never know the loss, destruction, and nights spent staring hopelessly at walls you went through. People who will grow up safe and loved and cared for. People who carry names they won't be able to put a face to. 

That's okay. They don't need to know about the people you were before you were their grandparents, and maybe it's time for you to try to let that time go. Maybe, in your and Joel's old age, with the deep wrinkles and graying hair, you can just be. Maybe you can just dance in the living room and make warm blankets and fall asleep holding hands. Maybe everything does turn out okay.

#look for the light #thank you for the gorgeous request!! #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #the last of us fic #the last of us au #tlou au #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters