Tumgik
#once again I’m so so sorry for posting about this so much I know this must be really annoying I just can’t believe the response this has
laylajeffany · 3 days
Text
targeted ad ii - microfic
Tumblr media
saw these on insta - ya'll might already know they exist sorry i'm old but they are for Wednesday and Enid for sure, so have a tiny scene of Enid convincing her moody lil gf to wear them
“You’ve already managed to convince me to join you in a cabin that doesn’t double as a hideout for family members running from federal agents. On the first full day of this trip, I’ve eaten your sugary version of breakfast, listened to your KPop morning stretch routine playlist, and now you expect me to wear matching clothes? I already wore a snood with you to hunt a monster.”
Enid wiggled her shoulders, holding a tie-dyed canvas tone in her hands with her bottom lip curled out. “Yeah, and you let it get all torn up! Come on, Wednesday – it’s practically a tradition!”
“This is our first time traveling together. The only tradition we’ll have is going to be you waking up breathing each day after the insufferable teenage whimsy you have me entertaining on this so-called vacation.”
“Okay, not so much a tradition, but it’s like, a thing that couples do together! At least all the ones on Instagram do it when they travel!”
Wednesday opened her own suitcase, a vintage piece assembled with fine leather. Whatever low-quality, polyester excuse for ‘fabric’ that Enid had likely ordered from a sweatshop was not going on her body.  “Good news, I’m not on Instagram; you don’t have to worry about meeting vapidly set expectations of social media on my behalf.”
“But I got them special for us, so that we could still be coordinating and you could keep your aesthetics up, even though there would be no one here to see it. And I promise, I won’t post it on my stories or anything, I’d just…maybe hope that you’ll let Thing take a Polaroid of us for our cute little collection of pics on the string lights...”
Once Enid was full-blown pouting, Wednesday gave her a glance after taking out her organic, linen, hand-dyed pants that were stitched by the family seamstress and sighed. “What garment-factory-fire-waiting-to-happen clothing have you obtained?”
Enid scoffed as she reached into her bag. “I’d think the idea of a factory fire would be exciting to you.”
“I support exploiting people for their stupidity, not their labor,” Wednesday muttered and crossed her arms as she watched Enid pull out sweatshirts. One as an offensive baby pink and the other was black.
Matching? Hardly.
“These are from a small business I saw on that social-media-app you hate so much -”
“Did you fall for targeted advertising again? Enid, we’ve discussed the need to more strictly adjust your privacy settings so that your personality can’t be packaged and sold to you-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, breach of data – Russian bots, we’ve been through this. Anyway, this is a cute, women-owned online shop, not from some planet-killing application. I thought that these were particularly appropriate for us, and actually match this exact moment we’re in, right now.”
She turned them around, and Wednesday almost let out a puff of air in amusement, though she managed to conceal it before it could escape.
On the black sweatshirt was a pink heart, with a little spiderweb motif around it and the phrase ‘might bite,’ while the pink one had the same style, but the script read instead, ‘might cry.’
“Fitting,” Wednesday finally decided.
“Let’s see if they fit us!” She cheered, pulling the bright colored pastel top over her head and giggling, approaching Wednesday bravely, tugging the neck hole over her braids.
“Enid, it has pink.”
“Like, three inches of it on top! We’re alone in the woods, no one can see you. And I’ve got Benadryl for bug bites, if you break out in hives from your ‘color allergy.’”
Wednesday let out a long sigh through her nose as Enid actually took her arms one at a time and weaseled them inside the sleeves of the crewneck. She stared straight ahead, unfortunately – the maneuver long had lost the effect of unnerving Enid.  
“Eek! You look so cute.” Enid tugged her over to the mirror on the back of the door of the log-built lake house they’d rented for spring break (a place for her to wolf out during that night’s full moon and for Wednesday to have plenty of target practice with a variety of weapons she’d packed). “I mean, intimidating – of course, not cute. Never cute.” She let out a series of bubbly laughs yet again, hooking an arm over Wednesday, who stared at their reflection.
It was a bit chilly that morning – but certainly not cold enough for the jacket she’d packed in case the weather was uncooperative…
“I will wear this for exactly the twenty minutes it will take us to walk to the lake.”
Enid squeaked and kissed her cheek, squeezing their matching sweatshirts together in a hug before pulling back and admiring their attire again, rubbing up and down Wednesday’s back mindlessly as she stared in the mirror. “We look adorable. I mean, deadly. We look very deadly in these.”
“You’re going to be dead if you don’t take your hands off my black and pink sweatshirt,” Wednesday clarified.
“Oh, please. You love it when I touch you,” Enid teased and Wednesday nearly wrinkled her nose at how much that was true. “What, are you going to prove that true and bite me if I don’t stop?”
“You wish,” Wednesday retorted, working very hard on keeping her eyes from rolling all the way back when Thing managed to capture the moment with Enid’s instant camera as she’d hoped. Enid let go and brought her arms up in a victory pose before milling around and gathering entirely too many unnecessary supplies for their morning hike while Wednesday watched her intensely in the mirror. She would admit – she liked the oversized top, and how it fell over her hands and went mid-length down her thighs. Adding her more usual pair of pants to go with it, she laced up her boots and waited as Enid debated between tinted lip balm. “The mosquitoes are going to find you delicious no matter what color your lips are.”
“It has SPF in it! Very necessary,” She said, putting some on herself when she finally picked one, then approached Wednesday, taking her by the back of her head and putting it on her as well. The fountain of positive thinking and insane levels of bravery that was her girlfriend shocked her into allowing it. Even more boldly, she followed it up with a kiss to those tinted lips that Wednesday almost returned. “Now you can leave a cute little lip imprint when you bite me,” She winked.
Tugging her close, Wednesday wrapped her black-clad sleeves around her pink middle, tucking her cheek against the plush fabric. In a move indicating surrender, she muttered, “This sweatshirt is adequately warm.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Enid kissed the top of her head, giving her a long embrace in return.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. And even if you’re just entertaining me,” She pulled back to look her in the eye. “Thank you. Now come on, you getting all affectionate on me might make me cry happy tears if we don’t get moving!”
Black Menagerie update is late because real life is sometimes better than fanfiction | purchase a sweatshirt for you and your moody gf here
44 notes · View notes
elfguys · 1 day
Text
okkk posting a draft of cherry and fandaniel thing. its not nsfw but like. leading to it. its a scene before sex probably. ive posted a few things from it already.
He prodded at the roasted beef on the plate with his fork, the flesh was overly tender, falling apart at the softest press of his fork. There was an unfamiliar hunger growing in the pit of his stomach that felt misplaced. Things once dead shouldn’t be so tempting.
“I spent the day preparing it for us,” Fandaniel gave him a knowing look across the table, as if tempting him with his eyes. “Please, don’t hurt my feelings by not giving it a honest try. You might come to like it, my dear.”
Cherry gave him a glare for a moment, before straightening his back, he wasn’t here to pick a fight when there was information he could gain, and so much to lose if he didn’t play politics with this ascian. Clearing his throat, “I don’t eat meat is all, sorry to offend.” He twirled the goblet of wine the host across from him had poured for him, fainting interest in the alcohol. “Is this imported?” There was a role to be played before he could pry on intent.
There was a small bit of sourness on the hosts face as he leaned into the velvet backing of the chair, a theatrical sigh left his mouth, all the time with the dramatics. He was the worst ascian Cherry had the displeasure of talking to, nothing seemed genuine, it was hard to tell where he began and where he ended with his acting. “I am a terrible host for not asking a preference for dinner, but it was so hard to get you alone, completely alone.” His voice lowered to a sonorous tone. “Grateful though, the savior of humanity, the hero of this tale, could indulge me with a night. I will hold this memory dearly.”
“Mhm,” Cherry mumbled during a cursory sip after inspecting the wine for any poisons or other methods of foul play. “Why did you invite this get together, again?”
That seemed to spark his interest as he leaned forward and rested his arms on the wood table. “We both want something with this arrangement, Warrior of Light. You want, no, need to know more about me, isn’t that correct? To get an idea of how to stop me?” He smiled like a fox with a rabbit in his teeth. “You were special to a man I share the memories of. Disgustingly special. You don’t remember him, but I remember you, of all your qualities and accomplishments.” Something was mixed in his words there, something bitter, despite the praise. His eyes briefly flickered downwards. “Surely, you want to know more, your mind is magnificently curious, it is simple to see.”
For what little he knew of Fandaniel, this was off kilter for his tightly knitted mask of personality, causing Cherry to stare at him temporarily, scrutinizing every detail. “You seem genuine.” “Oh, you hurt my heart with your words! I have only been genuine.” “Liar.”
There was a pause in Fandaniel’s wit as he let out a cold chuckle, “I am reaching my hand out, Warrior of Light, can’t you see it in your heart to catch me and embrace me?”
That feeling in the pit of his stomach again stirred, Cherry reached for his glass of wine to find it empty, must’ve finished it without thinking. The gnawing sensation that he was going to do something uncharacteristic of a heroic man, to behave on self interest, something he had tried to work out of him over the years.
“At least tell more information than that, I’m not rejecting anything. It’s unfair for you to say such things without explaining.” Not that you have ever explained yourself in a manner that is rational. Cherry reached for the wine bottle in the center, only to be met with Fandaniel’s hand meeting his own.
“No need to drink so hurriedly.” His hand was soft against Cherry’s scarred and battle worn hands, his voice was more off putting to him than usual, it was all too soft. “I want you to remember as well, all the details.” Fingers interlocking each other. “His name was Hermes. You would have liked him, I believe. But he was a dour man, despite living in paradise, but he had you, well, a unsundered you, at his side to ease his disposition.”
He was too fascinated at his tale to take care of their hands interlocking, or that his heart seemed to pick up speed, to pick at his hosts brain was of the most importance. I have heard from other ascians’ something of my soul being familiar. Confirms my suspicions. “Why would you hate living in something you’ve described as a paradise?” “To everyone else, but everyone is blind to truth, suffering, that the only way to remove pain is to remove it at the start.” Fascinating.
“I’ve come to my conclusion.” He chimed in, reassuring his self appointed truth, in that there was no changing.
“I didn’t think I had any foothold to change your mind on the matter so easily.” And Cherry was not a fool to mistake a crack in the door as an opening. “And that, my darling, is why I’ve always liked you so much.” Fandaniel cooed, rubbing his thumb against the back of Cherry’s hand, paying attention to running over healed scars.
“I think I’ve given you a good taste, something to ease some of your endless hunger of knowledge.” Fandaniel lifted Cherry’s hand to hover over his lips with an impish expression. “While I don’t feel a connection to that man, I do feel something special with you, and I know you feel a draw between us. If there was someone I would want to experience pleasure with before ending the world, it would be you.”
A hero shouldn’t act in such a manner, so many of those look at me for guidance in this world, but I never agreed to be looked towards for morals or to be an idealistic person to be. Yet, the hunger he spoke of was identical.
“Don’t muddy my feelings with talking about the world ending.” “My apologies, my prince. I wanted to make my vision clear, a night of pleasure for us both, and then we continue on our paths.”
Fandaniel kissed the knuckle of Cherry’s hand, gesturing for forgiveness. He needed to decide, quickly, either to run away with the information he has gained or to confront his own feelings of neediness. Just a taste. “Then, it’s agreed upon.” Impassively speaking, as if it was business as usual.
15 notes · View notes
hopecomesbacktolife · 2 months
Text
I’m not going to reblog the post itself because I don’t want that behavior on my blog, but oh my god I just saw a post about “looking for fics about your favorite character on ao3” and good lord the amount of bad takes both in that post and in the notes?? I have to just ramble about this for a moment because oh my god. it was ludicrous.
people were complaining that, and get this, unfinished fics exist. and that if you read an unfinished fic you’ll have to, get this, wait to read more until it’s published next. they were allll up in arms that there’s fics for a character that don’t cater to their specific interests. that they involve other characters and either do/don’t put them in a romantic relationship when they want the opposite for the character.
like at this point, most of you people in the notes on that post are 1) just being mean and condescending about FREE WORKS you can, may I remind you, READ FOR FREE and EXIT at ANY time! if you don’t like it!, don’t read it!, it’s so simple!, and 2) straight up do not know how ao3 works lmao
like I saw soooo many people in the notes complaining about a certain ship, dynamic, tag, etc, and like… y’all know you can filter by romantic vs platonic pairings, by ratings, by excluding certain tags or other qualifiers, etc etc etc… you know about ao3’s actually incredibly usable filtering and searching system… right… right??
at this point I’m just convinced a lot of these people are spoiled by large fandoms with 100k+ works for their characters and have decided to just be mean and condescending for no reason on main, about literally free fan works you can read for free any time that people spend hours and hours pouring their free time into out of sheer love for their craft. cuckoo bananas behavior if you ask me 🫠
I was legit so close to commenting that maybe they should try shipping two characters with <10 fics, with 0 fics, try liking a rare pair, try hyperfocusing on a character or niche type of fandom with a tiny but lovely circle of fans, and stop treating fan works and fic as Content TM that they deserve to have handed to them that caters to exactly what they want for free and maybe they’ll calm down lmao
like y’all aren’t cool you’re just being mean. we fundamentally approach fic in wildly different ways and honestly the way you do sounds exhausting. literally could not be me, I’m to busy finding joy in shared love for characters and not flipping the table in a rage because there’s one (1) element of the fic that isn’t specifically catered to me, maybe try that and you’ll feel better, hmm?
and yeah I’m aware that last sentence is me being condescending towards them, but frankly it’s warranted when so many people are being that mean and haughty for no reason lmao but truly those takes were horrific. fellow fic writers and even fellow fic readers I interact with, am mutuals with, authors whose works I read, readers who comment and interact with my works, fans of niche fandom subsets that run in the same circles as me— I hope you know this is so wildly not how I approach fics, I love just finding fics for my characters and forming these lil communities where we share our interests and love for them and hype each other up. I love what we have in these fandom niches and I hope you know I would never dream of being so mean and condescending towards y’all. fic writers and readers and fan communities are so special and I cherish it even if clearly there’s people in the notes on that other post who don’t know how to do that lmao. I love your unfinished WIPs, I love your fics that may only partially be what I’m looking for, I love when you write characters in a way I wouldn’t expect but shows your love for your particular headcanon, I love the variety and diversity and variance in fic. I love us. genuinely. fic writer moots I am hugging all of you and I frequently reread your works, even the unfinished ones. ♡
#personal#god this turned into a rant but sometimes I’m just shocked by how.. mean and condescending and holier-than-thou some people can be about fic#about works people write FOR FREE because they LOVE a character/ dynamic/ etc so much they can’t NOT let that love pour out into a fic tjat#once again you can READ FOR FREE HELLO#like god. maybe those people need to try not being a condescending bench (to quote Eleanor) and maybe they’ll feel better and be able to ac#tually participate in the wonder and joy and delight that is fan communities and fic communities idk man#I’m convinced some of it is people being spoiled by large fandoms and also not knowing how ao3 works at all#but like. this is not a streaming service this is an ARCHIVE it is a LIBRARY do you know how to use a LIBRARY#hello??? if you don’t like a book you can return it and borrow another???? not scribble in the margins about how you don’t like it???#like literally w h a t.#unhinged behavior and not in a cute way.#being mean isn’t cute it’s just being mean. condescension won’t magically make your dream fic scenarios appear. sorry (not sorry tho)#anyways. there was no way in hellllll! I was going to reblog that post and bring that whole mess to my blog. so instead. making my own post#(somewhat like people who can’t find fic they want could also just make their own but yknow 🤭💋)#anyways fellow fic writers and readers I interact with and am friends with ily ily and pls know I never think of your works like that in a#million years ok ❤️❣️❤️ I’m sorry some people are Mean I’m so glad the people I know who are fic writers + readers aren’t like that ty ty
5 notes · View notes
arthur-r · 5 months
Text
lyrics: i’m a silly stupid angel, smile sweetly as you watch / and my wings are frail and brittle, and i whisper when i talk / please don’t remind me of the role i’m here to play / please god forgive me for the things that i can’t say / self actualization, maybe this is how it ends / i fall into formation, service is my fulfillment / i’m your soulmate in denial, self esteem gets in the way / and i’m just a little child who won’t live to see the day / when i’m regarded as a human being too / but all your lies just start to blend into my truth / self actualization, maybe this is how it ends / i fall into formation, service is my fulfillment / don’t try to tell me i’m not happy / don’t try to tell me this is wrong / don’t try to tell me that i’m broken / cause by now i’m too far gone / self actualization, maybe this is how it ends / i fall into formation, service is my fulfillment / self actualization, maybe this is how it ends / i fall into formation, service is my fulfillment / self actualization, maybe this is how it ends / i fall into formation, service is my fulfillment / self actualization, maybe this is how it ends / i fall into formation, service is my fulfillment
#hi i have a very important linguistics paper due in seven hours but i am distracting myself by playing vent music#inspired by: i typed out a long tagful of venting on wednesday night and then realized it was dumb to post it but it included the words#‘​‘tomorrow i will smile like a silly stupid angel’’ and so then the next day which is yesterday when i was once again anxious#then i wrote that part into a song. and now my roommate finally left the room for long enough that i could record it. very roughly#one of those songs where i need to get to a piano and figure out what the real chords are. but here it is for now#anyway this is about suppressing yourself in order to be more easily objectified!!!! because you feel like that’s your innate purpose#the deeper meaning of your life perhaps. the person you need to actualize. that is why i wrote this song#something something i don’t actually think this wrote this during an anxiety attack etc. me when it’s 2 in the morning on a wednesday night#and i have a midterm in the morning but i’m too busy sobbing to either study or sleep. college!! so much fun!!!!#anyways. i’m normal now basically. aside from extremely important paper due seven hours from now#but here is a song right now. i feel like a lot of us are struggling in the same boat#and i definitely am. PS this is not even about my relationship that im in right now. which is good shdhdf that would be an awful start#it’s literally so inapplicable to my current relationship. but i am just still insane. and so i am still upset and afraid. so yeah#anyway i’m in a little bit of a weird way i’m sorry for speaking weird and whatever. looking forward to dinner i think#i hope everyone is doing well. and let me know if you need anything#sending love from depression dorm room. and hope everyone is holding it together okay#me. my post. mine.#delete later#ask to tag
4 notes · View notes
starlooove · 8 months
Text
Actually don’t go in those notes very rancid in there
#i can’t take white beef seriously I’m sorry#and me personally I’m not gonna have an opinion on smth i don’t know about#however I wanna know what some of y’all are tryna accomplish with the type of discourse you get up to#and this isn’t judging I’m genuinely so curious like how does excluding ace ppl or ppl not trans enough for u furthering ur community#and Imma keep saying it I’m genuinely asking this like I don’t understand why we care so much#like words and definitions are important and everything but I don’t see the issue in including ace/aro ppl in the community?#i genuinely don’t understand downsides#and the whole u need dysphoria to be trans thing like some ppl don’t have dysphoria and transition anyways so do they not count?#again. just to reiterate. since some of y’all don’t like to read#Im genuinely confused as to what ur accomplishing or tryna achieve#like idk these feel like post liberation convos to me#like maybe worry about that after we’re not worried about our queer siblings getting killed every single day#but thats just me#and maybe It’s being black on top of it bc the convos in majorly queer black communities are just different#like not to say there aren’t discussions like that but I haven’t really seen the vitriol from other black ppl on that front#but maybe that’s just how I curate my space#like i just feel that there’s more pressing shit to attend to#but also! again! everything I’m saying is 1000% genuine like I do wanna know#and this isn’t saying we can’t worry about multiple things at once and I looove gatekeeping I just don’t understand this specific gate#like why do u draw the line at ace ppl neopronouns and lack of dysphoria?
3 notes · View notes
sistertotheknowitall · 2 months
Text
Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.
Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.
——
By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.
Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.
He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.
Mia had been insufferable ever since.
It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)
Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.
There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.
Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.
Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?
It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.
Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.
“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”
“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”
Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”
“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.
Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”
“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”
Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”
“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”
“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”
“Danny!” Mia called.
Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”
(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)
After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”
Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.
3K notes · View notes
augustinewrites · 18 days
Text
Tumblr media
“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes 
“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”
“nothing," you quickly defend.
“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”
“you promise not to judge?”
“not out loud.” 
you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”
shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”
“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring. 
shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”
“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”
“nanami?!”
heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!” 
“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”
“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”
“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”
“seriously?”
she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”
that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours. 
“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.
“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”
“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.
“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”
it was great. not that you’d tell her. 
“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.
you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”
“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”
some clears their throat loudly. 
both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”
as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–
“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. 
memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–
you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.
shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.
_____
“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.
“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve. 
“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”
nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?” 
“because i'm hot–”
“please stop talking.”
“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.” 
that makes him pause. “really? what look?”
the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”
“what did you mean by that? what look?”
“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”
nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?
interesting. 
_____
when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.
oh no. this is how the fantasies always start. 
“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”
you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.
soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.
(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.) 
you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.
“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down. 
“hm?”
“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”
you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”
he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”
“you do?”
“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”
3K notes · View notes
Text
Fan Favourite - LN
Summary: Lando’s subscribers always want to know if his girlfriend is going to make an appearance.
Tumblr media
Lando is known for streaming thanks to his involvement with Quadrant.
And since he got a girlfriend who has been a frequent feature in his podcast, she’s begun to get requests to appear in them. Even if every time she appears, it’s one of three reasons.
1)She’s managed to injure herself while cooking (or once or twice just walking around the apartment)
2)She’s feeling clingy, which is Lando’s favourite reason
3)She’s confused about something and needs his help figuring it out
Today, unusually, she’s MIA and the subscribers are noticing.
“Where’s y/n? God I wish I knew. Last time I checked she was making pastries but that was a few hours ago. Actually, she’s pretty quiet, I’ll be right back.” Lando frowns since it’s been a few hours and usually she’s never able to contain herself from interrupting the livestream.
The chat fills with comments about how cute they are and how sweet it is that he’s concerned about her after not seeing her for a few hours.
“Y/n?” Lando frowns walking around the apartment, first seeing a pile of different kinds of pastries on the kitchen island before he shifts moving around. “Y/n?!” He’s about to call out again when he finds her in the living room having a nap on the sofa.
Now to a normal person, this seems perfectly innocent. But to Lando, he’s entirely hurt that she’s taking a nap, first of all with out him and second of all, not on top of him.
Rushing back to the stream he knows he has to make sure he ends.
“Sorry guys, but y/n is napping without me and I have to go. I’ll see you guys next time or if you’re coming to the next race weekend, I’ll hopefully see you guys there.” Lando states quickly before ending the stream and running back to the living room where y/n is sitting up rubbing at her eyes. “No. You can’t wake up yet. You’re not allowed to have naps without me being here.”
“I didn’t mean to…I think I ate too many pasties.” Y/n yawns before being dragged down on top of Lando’s warm body. The heat radiating from him soothing her back to a sleepy state almost instantly though she recalls why she didn’t end up going through to talk to him before. “What about your stream?”
“It’s ended. Go back to sleep.”
He shouldn’t really encourage her to nap, because honestly she’d just sleep all the time if given the opportunity. The woman sleeps day and night without any thought into it. She loves sleep and won’t change for anyone.
-
In his next stream y/n is very much awake, and she keeps taking pictures and videos.
“Y/n, stop taking videos.” Lando laughs looking back at her while she grins cheekily.
“But your fans love it.” Y/n grins then getting up and moving to sit on his lap while he smiles at her scooching down in his lap.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Lando comments sarcastically while she grins holding her phone to take a video of both of them. “Here we go.”
“I’m very comfortable, thanks.” Y/n states as she posts the video.
“This is why they all love you, exposing me for them.”
“What am I exposing? That you love your girlfriend? Not sorry for it.” Y/n giggles then flushing when he nuzzles his face into her neck, kissing the skin and biting it a little. “Alright, I’ll stop.”
“Good.”
“The chat wants to know if you can play the game with me sitting here.” Y/n states then snorting a laugh while sends Lando into a fit of laughter. “When he’s not streaming this is usually the position we’re in, BUT it’s on his demand before everyone says it’s so cute that I want to be stuck here watching his game.”
“Hey, I let you play in my place sometimes.”
“Yeah, until Max shouts at us both because I’m doing such a terrible job.” Y/n giggles before she settles back. “Go on, they want to see whether we’re lying or not about you being able to play with me here.”
Y/n practically melts back against Lando, pressed into him. Her eyes are trained on the screen almost having completely forgot that they are on the stream. Lando however is completely amused by her focus on his game, she always gets so invested in his games. Sometimes even mumbles for him to do something or pushes a button on his behalf when she thinks he’s going to do what she sees as the wrong with.
“Lando-baby, baby the-oh.” She gasps when he dies in the game then turning to look at him while he smiles at her . “Baby, you weren’t focusing.”
“I’m sorry.” Lando pouts as he leans forward and kisses her. “Do you want to have a go instead?”
“Can I?”
“Go on.” Lando nods knowing that the subscribers are going mental in the chat over how cute they think the two are. Y/n gets to play for a while before she gets stuck and Lando helps by putting his hands over her own and moving her fingers rather than taking the controller from her, he just plays while she’s still holding it. “You got it, come on.”
Y/n (and Lando) finishes the mission with a cheer.
“Alright, we’re ending the stream before someone goes into cardiac arrest from how adorable we are.” Lando states making Y/n frown in confusion before he points at the chat and she catches sight of a few of the comments.
“Oh wow.”
“You’re a fan favourite.” Lando laughs then hiding his face in her neck and kissing her skin as he moves to stop the stream. “Ok, bye everyone. We’re going to go do something that’s not stream friendly.”
“Lando!”
3K notes · View notes
glitterypinkconverse · 10 months
Text
─ ⊹ ⊱ IN THE HEAT OF IT ALL
e-42!miles x fem!reader
Tumblr media
summary after having an argument with miles, you get mad as to why he always brings up your plushies while you guys are arguing. so, you threw them all away.
request by @friedturtlewhispers ! i accidentally posted this without writing actual story, so sorry your request got deleted 😭
a/n this is a continuation of the 42!miles headcanon from these headcanons! i’m a sucker for angst so ofc i has to write this 🤷‍♀️
warnings angst to fluff, cursing
Tumblr media
“Ma, you’re the one who sleeps with stuffed animals at night.”
You two have been fighting over God knows what for at least 30 minutes, and whenever he brought up the fact that you sleep with stuffed animals at night pisses you off. You scoffed, stuck your middle finger up at him, and went to his doorway.
“Fuck you, Miles.” That was all you said before you walked out of his bedroom, and out his apartment door.
New York at night was chilly, so as you left the building you silently cursed to yourself. You forgot your jacket again, as it was hot during the day but then it cooled down. Luckily, your apartment building was only a block away, so it wasn’t that bad of a walk.
His words still rang through your head. That was his only comeback nowadays ever since he found out. You thought he hated it, for how much he teased you about sleeping with the stuffed animals. But secretly, though he would never admit it, he found it cute that you do. It made him happy seeing you happy, although you weren’t feeling it right now.
You thought actually sleeping with them bothered him, so as your mind was overflowing with rage, you did the petty thing.
You threw them all away.
Well, not really. You just stuffed them all in a bag and put it in your closet. But, it felt like you did because your once overfilled bed was now empty, the only thing on it was your clothes, pillows, and obvious blankets.
Your phone was blowing from texts and calls from Miles. You looked over at it and rolled your eyes. You put your phone on do not disturb, charged it, and then got in bed. All you needed right now was some rest, so you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep. Though, it was hard without at least one thing to hold.
Miles on the other hand, was freaking out. He was pacing around his room angrily, you guys never ended on bad terms. You would always make up, because he knew how important it was for you to have closure. He wanted to make this relationship work, and right now he felt like he was failing it.
“Pick up the phone, Y/N,” he mumbled, silently cursing everytime it went straight to voicemail. He groaned and left his room, saying a quick goodbye to his mom before leaving the apartment.
He walked, practically ran to your apartment where he barged in because you forgot to lock the door. Your parents were out on a work trip right now, so he reminded himself to scold you later on this. But for now, his only priority was to set things right and make it up to you.
He slowly opened your bedroom door, from the light being off he figured you were asleep. That was all until you turned around to look at the light that was entering your room, and groaned when you saw Miles standing in your doorway. “Fuck off.”
He scoffed and made his way towards you, “That’s no way to talk to me, now is it?” He joked, though you weren’t having it.
“What the hell are you doing here, Miles.” You turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the anger that was still looming on your face.
“Whatchu think I’m here for? I’m here to make it up to you. We’re not leaving on bad terms, and I swear by that.”
You didn’t respond, and that left Miles quiet. He observed the position you were in, and noticed your bed looked different.
“Ma, where’s all your stuffed animals?” He asked, concern in his voice. He shuffled around your bed, looking over you and looking at the end of your bed.
“Gone,” you mumbled. He paused in his tracks, looking over at you even though you couldn’t see him. Your back was facing the wall, so he immediately turned you around to face him.
“Fuck you mean gone?”
“I mean, gone, Miles. Like, they’re not here.” He was shocked, you loved those things more than anything. He looked around your room, for any sign of them.
None.
“I’ll be right back,” he mumbled before hurrying out of the room. You rolled your eyes and turned around in your bed again, feeling slightly bad that you lied to him.
However, Miles was going to the nearest store to get you something. He walked down the aisles of the store, searching for the perfect plushie. He grimaced at all of them, as they all looked unintentionally creepy. He decided on a pink teddy bear, as it looked the most tame and he knew how much you liked teddy bears. He went up to the register and paid for it, then rushed back to your apartment.
You were almost asleep when he barged in once again and sat on your bed. “Turn around.” When you didn’t, he turned you around himself and what you saw in his hands shocked you.
You sat up to face him, you didn’t expect him to buy you a teddy bear. You took it from his hands, admiring it slightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Y’know, I actually find it cute how you sleep with these.” You looked up at him and smiled, then fell into his arms.
“It’s alright, I guess. Thanks for the bear,” he hummed in response, to which you continued, “there’s a bag in my closet, do you think you can get it?” He pulled away slightly and raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you giggled against his chest.
He peeled away from you and walked to your closet, silently cursing when he saw the bag full of stuffed animals. “You’re full of shit, y’know that right?”
You laughed as he threw the bag at you, you throwing one of your pillows back at him in response. “You loooove me though.”
He walked back to your bed and put the pillow you threw at him back on the bed, and laid down with you. “You got one thing right,” he said as you adjusted in his arms.
“Oh, and also, don’t forget to lock your door. Can’t let anyone taking m’ girl away.”
“Go to sleep, Miles.”
Tumblr media
TAGS ↣ @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
8K notes · View notes
luveline · 28 days
Note
Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!
shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug
Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 
Plus, you’re awfully shy. 
Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 
But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 
“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 
You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 
Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 
“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 
You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 
“Three, two, one.” 
You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 
He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 
“What?” he asks, perturbed. 
“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 
He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 
“Don’t worry about it.” 
Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 
It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 
“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 
“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 
“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 
You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 
Spencer waits. 
“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 
“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 
“If that’s okay.” 
“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 
“Really?” 
He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 
You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 
“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 
“You don’t like touching.” 
“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 
“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 
Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 
“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 
Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”
“Or you’re just really, really warm.”
1K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 1 year
Text
weakness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 5.7k
“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”
You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”
“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”
You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 
“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”
“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”
“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.
“But Frank—”
“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”
Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 
“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 
“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”
Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”
Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 
“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”
You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 
Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.
You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 
Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”
You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 
Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”
“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”
Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.
What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?
What’s he going to think?
Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.
“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”
You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”
“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.
“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”
Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”
Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”
“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”
“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”
He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”
“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.
“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”
You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”
He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”
You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”
Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”
For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 
Could Frank actually be right? 
Do you actually mean something to Joel?
No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.
“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”
“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”
Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”
“You are his weakness.”
He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 
“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.
“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”
“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.
When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”
Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.
“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.
As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”
“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”
Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”
“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”
Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.
“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.
Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.
“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 
Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.
“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”
You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”
Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”
His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 
Had he actually meant that?
“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 
Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”
Tumblr media
Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 
Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.
 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 
As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 
Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.
About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”
“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 
You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”
Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.
A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”
“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”
Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”
“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 
“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”
You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”
“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.
You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 
When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.
“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”
“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”
Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”
You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”
Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”
The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.
“What? But what about you?”
“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”
Bill and Joel being neighbors?
Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.
“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”
“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”
You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”
The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.
The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.
“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”
Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”
“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”
Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.
“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”
“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”
“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”
You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 
Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 
He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.
Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.
“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”
Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”
You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”
“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”
Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.
He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.
Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.
“Joel…” 
Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.
“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”
Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.
You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.
Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.
The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 
“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.
His face remains just inches from yours.
“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”
“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.
Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”
You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”
He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.
This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 
Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.
“Well, well, well.”
Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 
“How long have you been standing back there?”
“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”
You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.
So maybe he’d been right after all.
Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 
But he was yours too.
11K notes · View notes
heesdreamer · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Forgotten Consequences
PAIRING ➩ jake x reader (bsfs little brother au)
SUMMARY ➩ Your bestfriends little brother comes back from Australia and catches your attention despite knowing the consequences
WARNINGS ➩ ages aren’t specified but reader is a few years older than Jake and considers him “barely an adult”, RLLY ROUGH SM*T, like no joke it’s rough be warned, consent is there even though reader says no (she def wants it!), d*ddy is used sorry lol… this is straight up p*rn so there’s your warning. Jake is rough and borders obsessive
WC ➩ 5.7k
AUTHORS NOTE ➩ Not exactly pleased my return to the writing world is basically PWP lol but here it is… there’s a larger story here I’m considering writing so lmk if you’re interested. Sorry to keep you guys missing me, take this as an apology piece
“Your brother is a lot taller than I remember him being Chaeyoung.”
You briefly glanced over to the side once you heard Lily’s voice start to whisper, seeing her leaning into the other girls side as she tried to be as discreet as possible.
Both of them were staring out at something in the yard and you followed their gaze until you landed on Jake standing in the corner, picking up something off of the snack table and looking as bored as you felt at this ridiculous party.
“If you hook up with my little brother I’ll actually kill you.” Chaeyoung’s voice was flat and deadly serious but her face didn’t show any actual signs of caring about the conversation, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink before looking away and letting Lily lay on her shoulder.
Your eyebrow raised slightly at the interaction before your gaze was floating back over to the boy instinctively.
He hadn’t been home from the dance school in Australia long and this was only your second time seeing him since. You’d grown up together but you’d never paid him much mind outside of when Chaeyoung gave him funny makeovers and made him dance to girl group songs with you and your friends. Other than that he wasn’t necessarily somebody on your radar.
It was impossible to not notice the difference in him now.
Mainly the fact he was almost double the size he had been when he left, clearly hitting puberty now and apparently the gym considering how large his shoulders looked underneath the washed out black hoodie he was wearing.
He’d obviously gotten a new sense of style in his time away too and it was one that you were almost annoyingly attracted to. His hair was longer and stuck in his face most the time, earbuds peaking out from behind the dark strands whenever he pushed it back with his large hand and you could’ve sworn you’d posted the shoes he was currently wearing on your Instagram story a few months ago.
You watched him as he started to make his way back inside, completely ignoring the party going on around him and not even sparing a glance at the people in his backyard and living room.
When he was younger, he always wanted to be involved, especially when it had to do with Chaeyoung and your friends. You remember seeing her send him back up to his room dozens of times when he tried to hang out with you guys, always greeting you and the others enthusiastically.
A frown was forming on your face at his indifferent attitude before you were glancing back at your friends, glad to see they were lost in their own conversation and not noticing the way your eyes had been locked on your bestfriends little brother for the better part of the last ten minutes.
They were so distracted that they also didn’t notice the way you were scooting off of the outdoor bench, adjusting your skirt and balancing yourself slightly before you were heading inside and following the path you’d seen the younger boy taking. You were a bit thrown off when you entered the house again, the atmosphere a lot more intense and dizzying than the outside partygoers had been.
But you knew Jake wouldn’t have stuck around this type of environment long so you pushed your way through the crowd and continued on your way upstairs to where you knew he’d be, raising your fist and knocking on his door before you thought twice about it.
You froze up slightly at the speed in which he swung open his bedroom door, a heavy glare set on his face and you could hear music coming from deeper in the room, having seemingly abandoned his headphones. His eyes widened for just a second when he realized it was you in the hallway before he was forcing on an expression of indifference.
“Y/N? Whats up?” He was asking but his tone was lazy like he didn’t care, luckily you knew better and could clearly read the curiosity in his eyes.
You ignored his question and pushed into the room, taking a deep breath once inside before turning towards him with a raised eyebrow. He was sighing and closing the door behind you, leaning against it for a second once he realized what your expression was directed towards.
“You smoke?” You were finally speaking and he tensed at the sound of your voice, looking way more intimidating with the way he was lazily leaned against his door and accidentally trapping you inside the room. You took a seat on his bed and watched him curiously, waiting for an answer.
You didn’t necessarily need one considering you were now noticing how lazy his eyes were, gaze low and hazy as he stared at you sitting on his bed and the corner of his lips turned up into a half smirk at your stern voice and scolding demeanor.
“You gonna tell on me Y/N?” His tone was teasing now and you kept watching him as he pushed off the door, crossing the room until he was flopping back into his bed.
Luckily he kept some distance between the two of you, sitting up so his back was propped up on his headboard and his knee was pointed towards the ceiling. You were still sitting on the edge of his bed but you turned your body so you could face him better, adjusting your skirt with the movement. You took one final glance towards the door, eyes falling down to the turned lock on the knob.
“I’m sure I could be convinced to not tell.” You were responding to him slowly, keeping your voice light so he knew you weren’t serious. His eyes darkened a touch but you continued on with your light teasing. “Maybe if you were open to sharing.”
You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up in Jake Sim’s bedroom smoking weed with him, sitting fully on his bed now with your legs crossed underneath you and grazing fingers every time he passed the bowl over in your direction.
You kept picturing Chaeyoung walking into the room, seeing the way you were looking at him every time he was breathing smoke outwards into the air. You wondered if she’d care, wondered if she’d realize where your mind had gone and then you’d shift on the bed and feel the tension in the room and know there was no way she wouldn’t suffocate in it.
He was watching you now in a way that you knew was past the line of friendly, miles past the line of being your bestfriends younger brother, and for the first time since entering his room you got nervous. So nervous that you inhaled wrong and the smoke traveled to a tighter part of your chest, sending you lurching forward in a rough cough as you patted your torso a couple times to try and clear your airways.
Jake was chuckling at your amateurish smoking skills and you sent him a glare as another cough ripped through you, moving your hand to send a soft punch towards his knee for his teasing.
“Wanna know a better way to get the smoke down?” His voice was low, lower than it already was and you remember being frozen the first time you heard him speak when he originally got back, deep and silky as he muttered a halfhearted greeting in your direction.
You gave him a curious look even though you already had an idea of where this was heading, wondering how far he was planning to take this. You only responded with a soft nod now that your coughs had died down and left your throat with a burning sensation, worsening when a gasp ripped through you at the feeling of him wrapping his hands underneath your knees and tugging you closer on the bed.
He moved you completely effortlessly and your eyes were wide and panicked, still sitting with your legs crossed but now you were directly in front of him and your knees were bumping into one of his, his other leg stretch out along your side and effectively forming a cage around you.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Your warning was coming out far less stern than you’d hoped it would, voice weak and almost teasing again despite how serious you were.
His eyebrow cocked at this and you immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say considering the challenging glint forming in his eye now. He was swaying forward so his face was close to yours, way too close considering you felt his nose graze you for just a second before he was pulling back so he could stare down at your tense features.
“Keep your mouth open.” He was speaking suddenly and you could feel his breath on your lips, his tone light but commanding enough that for some reason you were immediately nodding your head and parting your lips for him.
He wasn’t wasting any time, sitting up enough so he could light the bowl once more and inhale it deep, holding it there in his chest easily for a few seconds before he was leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t a kiss but it was enough for your eyes to flutter closed, leaning forward to press tighter against him but still not enough to feel his mouth completely on yours.
It was completely sensual, the way he was breathing out the smoke into your mouth from his own, almost suffocating as you inhaled a shaky breath softly and swayed further against him to try to avoid letting it escape.
“Breathe it in.” He was directing you again now that the smoke was out of his mouth and inside yours, not bothering to lean back and give you space as he started to speak and you could feel his lip brushing against yours for just a second. “C‘mon hold it for me. You can take it deeper than that.”
Your eyes were widening in surprise at his suggestive words, letting the smoke out before you were planning to and sitting up straight to try and put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem bothered at all by your reaction and for a second you wondered if you had just misheard him, let your own guilty thoughts and insecurities take his words to mean something besides smoking.
It didn’t help that your stomach was flipping with want now, face reddening and getting warmer as you replayed what he had said in your mind.
“Do it again.” You were requesting it in a whisper and you weren’t exactly sure what you were asking for, judging yourself for secretly hoping he’d repeat his innuendo laced words so you could hear it in his voice again. Instead he was grabbing the bowl and placing it between the two of you, lighting it again and inhaling.
You didn’t have too much time to be disappointed considering he was immediately lowering it and connecting your lips again, not even giving you time to open your mouth to collect the smoke.
He seemed to take matters into his own hands and you felt his tongue pressing against your sealed lips, prying them open so he could tilt his head and funnel the smoke into your throat. For a second you were chasing after his tongue with your own, nearly kissing him fully in a deeper lust fueled high, but he was cupping your jaw briefly and closing your mouth so you were forced to breathe in the smoke.
It was settling deep in your chest and this time you held it for him, looking up at him slightly through your eyelashes with watery eyes and he had a more satisfied expression on his face now that you were listening to him.
“Good girl.” He was humming out the word casually but your mouth parted in surprise, legs instinctively clenching together as you let the smoke filter back out and hit his face instead. The smirk on his face told you that he had definitely noticed your reaction and you were starting to lose all feelings of guilt and hesitation, being replaced with something much more terrible.
Something so intense that you couldn’t stop yourself from rocking forward and pressing your lips against his fully.
He thankfully was immediately reciprocating and you tried not to think about where he learned to kiss this intensely, hands coming up to cup your face and keep you locked against him as you moved together. You’d rocked forward so far that you nearly knocked him over back against the bed, leaning over his lap now as you desperately kissed him deeper and deeper.
It took for his hand sliding down your back, attempting to pull you fully onto his awaiting lap, for you to snap out of it and sit up straight with a small gasp.
Your hand was reaching up to touch your lips and you tried to ignore the fact they were wet from his mouth, looking at him and scanning from his confused eyes down to his own swollen lips that most likely mirrored the state of your own. Your body was lit up with need and it didn’t help that he was still touching you, hand resting on your lower back like he was waiting for you to kiss him again.
“We can’t do this.” You were telling him sternly in a panicked voice, shaking your head desperately to try and make sure he understood and that your point was getting across to him.
His hand was sliding down lower and roughly squeezing, resting on the curve of your ass and sending your hips forward and more onto his. A soft gasp was slipping from your mouth, followed by a breathy whine at the feeling of him hardening and pressing against your front, even more unbearable considering he wasn’t moving his hand and was instead softly groping your behind and rocking you against him.
“But we’re going to.” He was responding to your rejection in a casual tone, sounding more confident than he was pushy and you let out another soft whine as you gave him a bewildered look. “You followed me up here, you came into my room in this tiny little skirt and climbed into my bed because you wanted me to fuck you.”
You were instinctively shaking your head in panicked denial but your hands were going to his shoulders, pulling yourself forward onto his lap fully and mewling softly at the feeling of him completely pressing against you.
He didn’t say anything else as you started to desperately move against him, your head falling forward and landing in the crook of his neck as you lifted yourself up and down slowly so you could feel him under you at every possible angle. His large hands were holding you roughly and lifting you every time you struggled, pushing your skirt up further on your hips so he could feel your bare skin and lace panties.
“Fuck fuck.” You were panting out into his neck and arching your back into him, a shiver rolling down your spine when he was harshly tugging at your underwear so it was pressed painfully against your sensitive clit.
“God, do you always get this wet?” He was finally started to sound affected and you let out an embarrassed sob at his words, hand sliding up the back of his neck until it was tangled in his long hair. You imagined you were already a mess considering how desperate you were feeling, an overwhelming heat mixing with your high and stopping you from thinking about anything other than Jake.
“Let me fuck you baby, let daddy fix this.” He was talking so sweetly in your ear in his low voice.
You were shaking your head again but you already knew your resolve was falling apart, feeling nearly inhuman with how much you longed to be full of something, especially if it was him. You were aching in your panties and the forbidden image of your best friends little brother stuffing you and making the ache go away was nearly making you drool.
“How old are you Jae?” You were gasping out and lifting your head out of his neck to look at his face clearly, fearing his response and knowing you had a right to the fear considering for the first time his eyes flashed with guilt and worry. You were quickly doing the math in your head and gasping again, sitting up even more and stopping your rocking against him. “Oh my god you’re barely legal.”
He suddenly looked really annoyed and you felt bad for getting this far with him, knowing you had no choice but to stop what you were doing and reject the boy before anything more happened.
Messing around with your best friends brother was one thing but doing it while he was just barely an official adult was too much for your conscience, even if you weren’t that much older than him.
He seemed to have a totally different idea than you considering he was scoffing in annoyance before he was pausing and then flipping you completely over, ripping a shriek from you as your back unexpectedly hit the bed and he was left hovering over you. You froze up in shock as he impatiently undid the buttons on your skirt that was still pushed up on your waist, tugging it down and tossing it somewhere across the room.
“Don’t act like you care about how old I am.” He was barely looking at you as he spoke with anger lacing his voice, looking at your nearly bare bottom half for a few seconds before he was glancing up at you to check for your reaction. “Let me eat your pussy.”
You were letting out a loud laugh of disbelief, lacking any humor as you clamped your thighs shut and shook your head. “I mean it Jake, we can’t do this. It’s wrong.”
His large hands were squeezing your ankles for a second before sliding up your legs softly, your breath getting shakier as he reached your knees and slowly separated your legs. You both could tell you weren’t actually showing any attempt to stop him, not even putting up a fight as he lowered his face closer to your core and you could feel his breath over the wet spot covering your panties.
“It’s wrong that you want my tongue so bad your thighs are soaked.” He was talking in between the kisses he was laying on your skin, getting closer and closer to the thin fabric separating you and the point of no return. “Would be wrong to let you leave my room without my cum in your stomach.”
“Please, you need to stop.” You were breathing it out in a moan once he finally was placing a kiss over your covered core, softly running his tongue along your wetness and humming softly. The vibrations went straight to your clit and your hips rolled off the bed, pushing his face straight against you. “Oh fuck.”
He let out something that sounded almost like a growl before he was pushing your panties to the side and diving into your wet folds, wasting no time in sticking his tongue as deep as he possibly could get it and ignoring the way you nearly screamed and tried to close your legs around his head. He used his free hand to aggressively slam your knee back against the bed, opening you up completely for him and practically making out with your cunt.
It was completely lewd and disgusting, the wet noises filling the room as he ate you out with a level of expertise that almost made your stomach turn with curiosity if it wasn’t for how good he was making you feel.
Your hand was going to his hair to pull him out of your core but plans changed when he was sucking your clit into his mouth softly, instead keeping him locked in place with his long strands between your fingers. He abandoned your sensitive bud to go back to trying to stick his tongue as deep inside you as he could, turning his head so he was pushing into your tight hole and he moaned against you, the vibration nearly pulling another scream from you.
“Please Jake, oh my god please.” You almost thought you were begging for him to stop but you both knew you weren’t, lifting your hips up every time he tried to take a breath in an attempt to keep him buried in your cunt as long as possible.
“Wanna cum on my tongue or my cock baby?” He was lifting his head up to question you and you were thrown off by how easily it rolled off his tongue, how confident he seemed to be in being able to fuck you properly and make you cum with no question. You rarely came from hookups and definitely left unsatisfied more often than not but something about the glare in his eyes made you believe him.
You were apparently taking too long to answer considering he was climbing back on top of you and adjusting you slightly, moving your body like it weighed nothing.
“Don’t know how long I’ve wanted you like this Y/N. Going to show you what a real man feels like inside this slutty little hole.” He was reaching down and rubbing his fingers against you for emphasis, smirking when you let out a shaky breath and your stomach clenched. “Beg for daddy to fuck you baby, let everyone hear how much you want me.”
You were shaking your head and letting out an actual sob now, tears heavy as they rolled down your face and landed on the bed underneath you. He looked completely unaffected by your emotional reaction to the humiliation and pure want you felt for him.
It didn’t matter what he said now and it didn’t matter even if his sister walked into the room and saw him on top of you like this, you’d realized from the second you entered the room that you’d let him do anything to you that he wanted and that fact drove you absolutely insane with guilt and embarrassment. He seemed to know it as much as you did considering he was silent and patient as he waited for you to get ahold of yourself, knowing you’d end up begging for him regardless.
“Please Jake I need you so bad, need you to fuck me baby please.” You were pleading with him through a sob, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to lift your hips to meet his and show him how desperate you were.
His eyes darkened the more you spoke and for the first time since entering his room you felt genuinely anxious, letting out a cry as he swiftly moved his hand up so it was pressing on your throat and restricting your breathing. Your eyes widened at his sudden aggression even though you were beginning to understand your mistake.
“Say it again and say it right or I’ll throw you out of my room with nothing but your dripping cunt.” He was leaning down to spit the words into your ear and you let out an embarrassing whine, another rush of heat running through you. “You like that huh… like when I get rough with you?”
You were nodding the best you could with his hand around your throat, the sting of the pressure making more wetness rush out of you as complete desperation took over your mind and left you feeling dizzy and out of it. Out of it enough that your tongue was hanging out of your mouth before you realized it, mouth opening as you stared up at him with watering eyes and heavy eyelashes.
He let off some of the tension around your throat just enough for you to be able to speak in a weak voice.
“Please daddy please give me your spit, I’ll be a good girl I promise.” You were practically sobbing as you begged him and his eyes were basically darkened to pitch black at this point, staring down at you with a hunger you’d never experienced from someone before. “Can do whatever you want to me, I’ll take it.”
Jake aggressively gripped your jaw and tugged your head closer towards his, waiting until you were eagerly sticking your tongue back out for him so he could spit roughly into your mouth. Before you got a chance to swallow it he was chasing after his spit with his own tongue, licking against yours until he was practically in your throat. You hummed softly and bobbed your head so he was even deeper, wanting him inside you in every way humanly possible.
“God you’ve gotta let me fuck you now or I’m going to hurt you.” He was pulling back to speak through gritted teeth, nearly looking pained as he was roughly sitting you up and tugging off the sweater you’d been wearing, leaving you completely bare outside of your panties that were beyond stretched from the way he was holding them.
“Hurt me.” You were begging him for it before you even processed that you wanted it, the imagine of him holding you down and shoving himself so deep inside you that you couldn’t handle the stretch making your stomach tighten with want. “Please Jake hurt me.”
“Don’t even know what you’re fucking begging for, you’re such a slut you don’t even care how I fuck you.” He sounded so angry but you knew he was just as affected as you, tugging you up and back into his lap so you were straddling him again. He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth for just a second before he was letting it go to speak again. “Wanna drag you down to that packed living room and take you in front for everyone there, let everyone watch me stuff you so deep your stomachs bulging.”
You were dizzy now, almost worried you were going to pass out from how overwhelmed you were and he’d barely even touched you so far.
You were desperately rolling your hips into his again and he was surprisingly letting you, guiding you as you bounced in his lap and practically rode him despite the fact he was still fully clothed. The image of you, bouncing on his hard on while practically naked and dripping down your thighs compared to him being fully dressed and composed made you feel even dizzier and you found yourself longing for what he was describing.
“Gonna make me feel so full daddy please, I’m sorry.” You could feel his hardness pressing against you every time you bounced and you were so turned on you couldn’t even find the time to be embarrassed you were probably soaking the fabric of his pants, the time to be humiliated you were calling a boy younger than you daddy.
“Should be fucking sorry.” He was growling out the words again and flipping you over easily so your stomach was on the bed instead, lifting you up by your hips so your ass was perfectly presented for him.
He didn’t hesitate before he was sending a sharp smack to your bare skin, immediately ripping a pained yelp from you that faded off into a desperate whine. You were adjusting yourself so you were pushing your ass towards him more and silently communicating you wanted him to hit you again, sobbing into his bed and pressing your face into the blanket to try to muffle the sounds of your cries.
Thankfully, he was understanding and roughly hitting you again. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength considering how strong he was but he definitely wasn’t going easy on you and you could feel yourself leaking even more at the pain.
“Tell me you’re sorry for never looking my way when I was a kid.” His words were barely being processed by you since you were so dizzy but you cried harder at the sound of his deep voice commanding you. “Sorry for being such a fucking slut but never giving me the chance to fill this pussy up.”
“Only want you to fill me please.” You were being immeasurably too loud but you didn’t even slightly care, completely serious in your desires for him to be inside you no matter who was watching. “M so sorry Jae please, please.”
You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone behind you and you nearly cried with relief, adjusting even more so you were completely presenting your ass and core to him. You wanted him to see how much you belonged to him so he’d have no choice but to fuck you.
He must’ve finished undressing his lower half because you could feel him pressing against you and your back arched at the realization his skin was pressing against yours, a loud whine sounding through the room when you felt his bare cock rubbing against your folds and thighs experimentally. You pushed against him harder and he reached up to squeeze the fat around your hips roughly in annoyance, a silent warning as he groaned softly.
“Gonna stuff you now and you’re going to lay here and take it.” He was grunting as he spoke and you sucked in a sharp breath when the head of his cock caught on your hole, pushing in just enough for you to realize he was a lot thicker than you’d prepared for. “Fuck you’re so tight, I’m going to end up in your stomach.”
You arched at his words and whined into his blankets, pushing your hips back against his so he was going deeper inside you. The stretch was knocking the air out of your chest but you nearly cried with how full he was going to make you feel.
“Please daddy please, I’ll be such a good girl for you I promise.” You were pathetically pleading with him and you knew for a fact that if anybody had drunkenly wondered upstairs they could definitely hear you, but you didn’t care about anything other than him in this moment and he was driving you crazy with how slow he was pushing into you.
He was finally losing his control and fucking himself deep inside of you in one go, bottoming out as you both took deep breaths and tried not to lose it before you’d even started.
The sound of him groaning above you was making you even more needy and you were overwhelmed with how much you wanted to keep hearing him make sounds like that, instinctively clenching around his length and feeling the way he was throbbing deep inside you.
You were basically sobbing with pleasure just from his first stroke into you when he pulled out completely, your body reacting intensely to the emptiness as you immediately looked over your shoulder and prepared to beg for him to fuck you again, stopping mid sentence when he was turning you back over on your back so you were able to see him again.
He was slamming himself back into you before you even adjusted to the position and he felt ten times deeper now, a pained grunt falling from your lips as he started to finally actually fuck you.
“Fuck you’re so fucking tight Y/N. I thought you were a whore but you feel brand new for me baby.” His facial expression as he spoke through gritted teeth and continued to thrust into you made you dizzy and you desperately reached out to hold his arms to try and ground yourself.
“Just for y-you Jake, only wanna be this full with you.” You were practically delirious as you cried and spoke to him but your words seemed to turn him on more considering he was slamming into you harder, clearly enjoying the level of ownership you were voicing towards him.
You didn’t want to internalize any of the things he said about you not paying attention to him before, knowing if you stopped and considered what he was implying you’d not be able to go through with this.
He was skilled at distracting you considering he was reaching forward to aggressively grab at your wrist, placing your hand against your stomach and pressing down so harshly you grunted in upset as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. The lack of understanding didn’t last long considering it took only two more rolls of his hips inside you for you to feel what he was intending, your stomach bulging slightly from his size forcing itself deeper.
“Feel that?” He was rasping and you looked up to meet his gaze for the first time since he entered you, taken back by how dark and deadly his eyes were. “You’re mine now.”
You were nodding quickly in confirmation, not because you agreed with what he was saying necessarily but because of the wave of fear you felt seeing how serious and cold his expression was.
He had managed to already get you shockingly close between the foreplay and rough manhandling and it wasn’t long before you were feeling the familiar tightness in your stomach, only worsening when he was leaning down and catching your mouth in the sloppiest kiss of the night. It was bordering painful and filthy, exactly what you needed to distract you from how wrong this was and exactly what you needed to have you finishing around his length with a sharp inhale into his mouth.
You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him kissing you even after you’d came, letting him know it was okay to keep fucking himself deeper inside you.
It was just enough to help you forget everything outside of the feeling of him on top of you and you felt drunk with how much you wanted to stay in this moment. You were terrified by how much he seemed worth the consequences when you had him like this, how much you wanted him even when the door was swinging open and a loud shriek was coming from the hallway.
3K notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 2 months
Text
silly low effort dating Lucifer headcanons —
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE’S THE SILLIEST EVER. Anyways, now that we have that out of the way. He is very touchy with you, especially after you guys start dating. He constantly has his hand on your shoulder, arm, in your hair, or on your leg. He’s been so touch starved ever since Lilith left him. So he’s always chasing that kinda of comforting physical touch. Also, probably just always clinging to your arm, no matter what you’re doing too. He’s just there, hanging around. I said in another post he likes to play with your fingers, rings, hands, bracelets, etc when he rambles on about whatever is interesting him. ”I had another Idea for a rubber duck that blows bubbles but I never really got around to it, plus there’s always—“ and he’d be fiddling with your hands the entire time. He also has a thing for being called really lovey-dovey pet names. Princess, sweetheart, babycakes, pretty boy, things like that. I swear they have him on the floor blushing every time, especially if you play it up well enough. ”You look so good today,” and then you strut over to him and tilt his head up to look at you, “my pretty boy.” Hes in shambles oh my god. Probably giggling and putting his hand over his mouth to conceal his dorky grin. Up the stakes by taking his hand and kissing it gently, never breaking eye contact. “Oh— oh my—“ he would stutter out. “Darling how… charming.” But he’d be tomato red and giggling the whole time. Not a lot of people acknowledge this, but he can be very snobby too. Of course, he’s the king of hell. Why shouldn’t he be? He also hold himself to a standard above sinners because, in his words, ‘they’re just the worst.’ So he’d be lowkey snooty and proud in public sometimes. And he’s a little rich boy too so don’t be surprised if he complains about how: “This restaurant serves their lamb too cold. You know, we don’t have to eat here. I have pancake batter at home sooo…” If you end up calling him out on it he’d feel bad about being so bratty and tip the waitress an outrageous amount. Also, i’m sorry this man is a little spoon through and through. Let’s be real right now. He’s so tiny he absolutely dissolved in your arms. Which is very comforting for him on bad days when he just wants to be held by you. He also, even though he acts all high and mighty when it happens, loves being manhandled by you. Maybe he’s overworking himself and so you just sneak up behind him and throw him over your shoulder. He'd bang his fists on your back and demand to be treated with dignity, as if he couldn’t overpower you in seconds. Also, you catch him talking to his rubber ducks A LOT. For a while they were probably all that he talked to it’s kind of sad to watch. But in a cute way? He has names for them all and specific personalities. He’ll be showing you his collection and be like “Oh, george likes you!” after forcing you to hold a rubber duck for him. Also a good cook, I don’t know why I just feel like he is. But like very oddly specific dishes too. He makes a mean gourmet mac and cheese with parmesan on the top. He likes to dance with you too, whether it’s slow dancing or you two are just being silly, he likes to feel your body warmth on him while you two move together. Also, i’m pretty sure we all ready know… autism. I’m not even projecting this time either, it just might as well be canon. So he comes you to about any new hyperfixations he has at the time because he trusts that you, above all people, will listen to him. Once again he’ll play with your bracelets, or fiddle with his hands while he talks to you. And of course, you listen, and even do your research later to make him feel like you really care. He also loves making arts and crafts with you. Sometimes even with some friendly competition (incredibly competitive high-energy contests on who’s contraption works better.) I also imagine you have to say things to him multiple times for him to hear you. It’s not that he can’t hear you, he’s just in his own little world, not paying attention at all to his surroundings.
”What, honey? Sorry, didn’t catch that last part—“ 
Then he’ll focus so hard on paying attention, that he’ll forget to actually pay attention and make you explain it another time.
I imagine he likes doing little tasks for you, so he can feel useful. Like running your laundry for you, doing the dishes, anything to keep him busy.
Also, it’d it earns words of affirmations from you, then it’s worth it. 
Say you catch him scrubbing pots and pans to save you the effort. Come up behind him, put your hands on his hips and kiss his head before telling him how amazing he is. And how great full you are for him.
He’s beaming and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
I also think he’s a morning person, so more often than not, he wakes you up with breakfast in bed.
He falls asleep so early at night it’s literally crazy. 
Like you could be hugging him, even standing up, at nighttime and he would immediately get so drowsy.
You’d have to pick him up bridal style and carry him to bed, all the while he’s whining about how he’s “Not tired, yet! I still have so much to do.” I think he also is a huge giggler like he just gets a kick out of everything you say and thinks you’re the funniest person alive. Also, he’s a terrible ugly crier. Like his face scrunches all the way up, snot comes out of his noise, he makes god awful chocking noises. It be kinda funny if it wasn’t so sad to watch to be honest. Cries at super stupid things too, those dog commercials for example. But it’s so bad he could be being his goofy self and like making the milk and the carton of eggs talk to each other. And he would get so invested in their ‘lives’ that he would start crying. ”No, Mr. Milk i’m sorry we can’t—“ sniff sniff “—be together. I DON’T LOVE YOU!” and now he’s crying. He buries his face in your shirt when he cries and just, I have a specific noise in mind, violently squeaks and sniffs.
Tumblr media
a/n — My tumblr was tweaking out when I wrote this. I don’t know what happened but if you saw this posted last night, no you didn’t.
2K notes · View notes
steddiealltheway · 7 months
Text
(A special post for my dear friend Cass @henderdads who is celebrating 10k followers 🫶💛 can’t wait to celebrate more milestones with you 🥳)
Eddie watches the follower count on the Corroded Coffin TikTok rise every time he refreshes their page as the rest of the band looks over his shoulder.
“I can’t believe your bat song is going to bring us to ten thousand followers. Considering it’s about-”
“Shut up,” Eddie cuts him off, refreshing the page again.
“Seriously though,” Grant says, pointing at the follower count, “We’re going to hit ten thousand pretty soon.”
“Which is a big milestone for us,” Jeff adds before circling in front of where everyone in staring at Eddie phone. “Shouldn’t we celebrate or something?”
All the boys pause for a moment, and Eddie can feel them all staring at him, waiting for some type of creative revelation as if he can just come up with something on the spot like... “I have an idea.”
Gareth and Grant high five as Eddie jumps up and points at Jeff. “Go get some lame confetti party poppers and a cheesy celebration cake.” He turns to Gareth and Grant and points at them. “You guys need to find out how to put our follower count on a laptop or something while I set up my room so we can do a livestream on Tiktok in there.”
“We’ve never done a livestream.”
“Exactly!” Eddie says clapping his hands excitedly, “That’s what will grab people’s attention and boost our follower count. We’ll tell them that follower ten thousand will get a special private video from us or something. I don’t know. Whatever they want!”
“What if they ask us to strip?” Grant asks.
Jeff sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder. “No one is going to ask you to strip, dude.”
“You never know!”
Eddie just laughs as he rushes off to his room.
“Wait!” Jeff yells after him.
Eddie pauses and turns around.
“What money am I using to by this stuff?”
Eddie sighs and digs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out two twenties and handing them over. “If this doesn’t cover it, you’ve done something wrong.”
Jeff smiles widely before running out the door yelling, “I’m gonna spend all of it!”
Eddie doesn’t even care about his money going down the drain, he’s too excited about reaching ten thousand and being able to call Wayne about it. For now, it’s time to seriously do some work to his room in order to make it somewhat presentable…
-:-:-:-:-:-
Eddie adjusts the camera stand and the ring light he bought for their videos that he gets constantly made fun of for buying. But the guys can’t deny how much better their videos look, so he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Jeff, give me your phone.”
Jeff hands his phone over but whines, “Why my phone?”
“Because you have the best camera,” Eddie explains, setting it up and going to their tiktok page. The numbers are quickly climbing through the nine thousands, and at this rate, they’ll definitely hit 10k during the livestream.
Once everything is prepared, Eddie asks, “Ready?”
Everyone nods and Eddie starts the livestream. He waves at the camera and watches the view count grow quickly. “Oh wow. Hi everyone. We haven’t done this before, so sorry for anything weird that may happen or when Grant inevitably says something dumb.”
Eddie gets a smack on the back of the head as Grant says, “Hey!” Jeff and Gareth just look at each other knowingly and laugh.
Eddie half winces and smiles as he rubs the back of his head and reads the comments asking about the numbers on the computer. “Oh shit. Yeah! Oh wait, I don’t think I should’ve sworn. Oops. Uh, anyways!” He takes a deep breath and gestures to the computer screen. “So, this the whole reason for our livestream. We’re about to hit ten thousand followers-”
“Thanks to you guys!” Gareth interjects.
“Yes, thank you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you,” Eddie says sincerely, laying his hands over his heart. “And we thought that we’d do something special for our ten thousandth follower. Maybe send them a video of us doing a cover of their favorite song or something. We don’t know! Whoever it is, you get to choose.”
“But you can’t make us strip!” Grant yells.
Eddie runs a hand over his face before gesturing dramatically toward Grant. “And this is what I meant when I said Grant would inevitably say something dumb.”
Gareth and Jeff just laugh as Grant turns red. Eddie turns around and pats him on the shoulder. “You know we love you.”
“Yeah, because you would suck without me.”
Eddie turns around and looks at the camera. “That’s absolutely true.” He looks at the comments and notices people asking them questions about when they’re releasing another song and if they’re planning on touring anywhere soon.
Jeff leans over squinting and says, “Oh! Our next song is called Hellfire Rains!”
Gareth looks at him slowly and asks, “Dude, are we allowed to say that?”
Eddie puts his head in his hands. This is absolutely a disaster, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Eddie’s head pops back up. “We could do something even worse and give them a sample of it.”
He sees the comment section flood a bit with affirmations of YES PLEASE. I BEG OF YOU.
Eddie turns to the guys and shrugs. “Are you guys good if I play a weird acoustic version of it?”
All the guys shrug and nod until Jeff stops to say. “Wait, what if we hit ten thousand during that?”
“Then, you guys stop me and we look at the follower,” Eddie replies.
Jeff nods and says, “Okay, but what if I told you we’re only nine followers away from ten thousand?”
“What?!” The rest of the boys yell and turn to the computer, noticing the numbers going up.
Eddie scrambles to grab his phone and go to their page, refreshing their notifications to grab the name of the ten thousandth person. He quickly looks at the camera and says, “Okay guys, I’ll give you that cover after we hit this milestone and freak out.” He refreshes the page and grabs Gareth’s shoulder. “Wait, do you have the party poppers?”
“Shit!” He yells running to the plastic Walmart bag and digging through it, handing them to everyone.
“It’s about to happen guys!” Jeff yells.
Eddie’s heart thuds in his chest as he refreshes the page over and over.
“Holy shit!” Grant yells first as Gareth and Jeff yell to celebrate. Eddie glances at the screen showing 10,000 and laughs as everyone pulls their confetti party poppers. He turns back and refreshes the page.
He freezes.
“Eddie, man, who is the lucky person?” Jeff asks excitedly.
Eddie looks at them with wide eyes.
“What?” Gareth asks.
Eddie looks back at the name and presses on the profile, noticing their mutual followers confirming that it’s a legit account. “Oh my god.”
The guys all rush around his phone and stare at the page.
Gareth shrieks with laughter. “Holy shit! Steve Harrington? The same infamous Steve who your bat song is about?”
“The same infamous Steve who you had a horrible crush on in high school but could never get the courage to talk to him?” Jeff adds with a laugh.
“I talked to him once,” Eddie grumbles out running his hands over his face. This cannot be happening.
Gareth laughs loudly and says, “Let me recall it.” He turns to Jeff and acts like he gets flustered as he says, “Uh. Steve. Steve Harrington. You’re. Hi. Yeah. You. Uh. So Dustin and you. That’s cool. I. Well. Good seeing you!” Gareth then turns to run away quickly.
Jeff laughs loudly as Grant says, “Uh, guys?”
Eddie shakes his head as Gareth and Jeff ignore Grant to laugh about it until Grant yells, “Guys!”
They all look at him and notice him staring off. Eddie realizes that he’s staring at Jeff’s phone…which is still streaming.
They all seem to realize it at once and freak out. “Turn it off! Turn it off! End it!” Eddie yells as Grant drops the phone and Jeff scrambles to end the livestream.
They all pause and slowly look at Eddie who breathes out, “What are the chances that Steve wasn’t on that livestream and that everyone will forget about this?”
The rest of the boys slowly turn to look at each other with grim looks on their face.
“Oh no,” Eddie says burying his face in his hands. This is not going to be good.
-:-:-:-:-:-
Sure enough, the next day, there’s a viral TikTok going around of the movement that someone had screen recorded, and Eddie’s phone is spammed with texts from Dustin, annoyed at Eddie for never telling him about his pathetic crush on his babysitter.
Eddie ignores it and his friends attempt to drown out his sorrow with cake and platitudes of, “Hey, we’re actually gaining a lot of followers from this.”
Eddie just groans and buries his face in his bed. This cannot be happening.
“We did promise that we’d give our ten thousandth follower something special,” Jeff says. “So we still need to follow through with that.”
Eddie sighs, “I’m not going to message him.”
“Then I’m going to message him from our account and pretend to be you,” Jeff says.
As Gareth and Jeff encourage him, Eddie slowly sits up and says, “No. No. I’ll do it.” He begrudgingly reaches over and grabs his phone.
“And while you’re at it, people are complaining about you not doing that short cover so…” Gareth trails off as Eddie shoots him a glare.
“Okay, well we’re going to go pick up some food and give you some space so you don’t kill us,” Jeff says while grabbing Grant and Gareth and dragging them away.
“Thank you!” Eddie yells after them.
“But you’re not getting food unless you’ve sent him a message!” Jeff yells before closing the front door.
Eddie sighs and takes a deep breath before he glances at this phone, ignoring all the text notifications from Dustin, but he becomes curious about the text from a number he doesn’t have saved. He clicks on it.
As your 10,000th follower, do I still get to request something?
This is Steve Harrington by the way
Eddie nearly throws his phone but swipes to Dustin’s texts instead typing out, YOU GAVE STEVE MY NUMBER????
He scrolls through the dozens of texts, noticing a sequence of important texts he missed.
can i give steve your number? he’s asking me for it
eddie i swear he’s not mad or anything
okay i can’t promise that but it didn’t sound like he was mad
eddieeeee
eddie stop ignoring me
if you don’t respond im going to send your number
okay
im sending it
if anything happens i expect to be the first to know!!! don’t make me find out from a tiktok ever again
Eddie takes a deep breath and reasons that at least now he knows the number is legitimate. He opens the texts from Steve and stares at them. There’s no way he can text him.
And for some reason, he immediately decides to call him with is arguably a thousand times worse, but before he can hang up, Steve already answers with a, “Hello?”
Eddie swallows and tries to remember how to speak. “Hi,” he croaks out before clearing his throat and trying again, “Shit. Hi.”
“Hi,” Steve says, sounding amused.
Eddie sighs and lays back on his bed. “So, what are the chances that you weren’t on the live stream and you didn’t see that video?”
“Zero.”
Eddie groans. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked TikTok yet, but have people found you and flooded your notifications?”
“Uh…” Steve trails off, sounding hesitant to answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. God, I’m so stupid. I just completely forgot the livestream was going or I never would’ve dragged you into this mess.”
Steve pauses and asks, “And what if I told you that I’m glad you forgot it was still on?”
Eddie sits up. “What?”
“What if…” Steve pauses and Eddie hears rustling on his end as if he’s anxiously twisting around. “What if I told you that I know what I want as your ten thousandth follower.”
“To punch me?”
Steve laughs, and Eddie tries as hard as he can not to latch onto the noise. “To ask you on a date.”
Eddie freezes in shock. Yeah, this isn’t happening.
“Eddie? Are you still there?”
“Yup, still here,” Eddie manages to breathe out. He pauses before asking, “You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I kind of had a big crush on you in high school, too. And I may have redownloaded TikTok when I heard about your live stream.”
“No way,” Eddie calls him out.
“Yes way. You should ask my best friend Robin. She saw the live stream and timed the follow perfectly for me. Plus, she’s suffered through my crush on you and has always been mad at me for never doing anything about it.”
Eddie can’t believe it. “Steve, can you FaceTime me right now?”
“Uh, sure. Yeah.”
Eddie clicks on the FaceTime button and waits until Steve’s face appears on the screen, further confirming it’s him and further freaking him out. Gosh, he hasn’t seen him in a while and he’s almost forgotten how gorgeous he is.
“Hey,” Steve says with a smile.
Eddie wants to melt into a pile of goo. “Hi.” He pauses for a second, getting a bit lost in seeing Steve’s smiling face on his phone. Then he remembers, “Oh! Okay, tell me again. But look me in the eye so I know you’re not lying.”
Steve chuckles and asks, “Eddie Munson, my secret high school crush, will you go on a date with me and fulfill the promise you made to all your followers?”
Eddie smiles and says, “Yes.”
-:-:-:-:-:-
A few days later, Eddie posts an update on the Corroded Coffin TikTok with a video of him singing a sneak peak of their new song then glancing off camera to ask, “Does my ten thousandth follower like it?”
Off camera, there’s a voice that sounds exasperated as they say, “How many times are you going to call me that instead of your boyfriend?”
Eddie puts his guitar down and rushes off camera quickly with a smile, but then the voice asks, “Did you end the video?”
Eddie pauses before saying, “No.”
“This is going to be a lasting issue isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Eddie confesses.
Then, the mystery man appears in the shot, revealing Steve’s smiling face before he ends the video.
Once again, the video ends up going viral, and soon enough, Eddie is celebrating 50k with all the band members along with Steve (and Dustin who is very mad to find out about their relationship via the second TikTok). But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
2K notes · View notes
strangesem · 11 months
Text
hobie brown x shy/quiet!reader headcanons
spider-punk x reader this is not a drill
long as hell I’m so sorry
a/n: reader is mentioned as being a mom friend but imo that can be gender neutral so this can still be read by anyone!! if that makes you uncomfortable though please skip this post :)
I also imagine hobie as being 19-ish so it’s kinda implied reader lives alone but can def be read as younger!!
Tumblr media
most people didn’t notice you at first.
you were quiet; really quiet. you’d mumble your thank you’s, whisper apologies, and generally go out of your way not to interact with people as a whole.
I feel like that gentleness/softness would almost draw hobie to you though?
he’d definitely first meet you as spider-man; saving you from some sort of robber or attacker. and then he’d see you be so shy about thanking him and apologizing as if it was your fault??? he finds it sweet but also kinda concerning for you tbh
and over time he begins to notice you more and more during his patrols; something about you just draws him in.
he definitely likes that you don’t try to tell him or others what to do lol
after talking to you enough as spider-man, and you start to open up, he begins to like you even more
you listen to some of the music he likes? your humour?? not to mention how genuine you are???
(also very useful if you happen to be a “mom friend” type who keeps first aid, candy, etc on you at all times!! he’d definitely appreciate a lollipop to help with the pressure changes while swinging around or a bandage for his cuts)
speaking of which if you ARE the type to have those things on you he may start seeking you out if/when he gets hurt
and after that even when he’s not tbh he’ll just pretend to have a headache and eat some of your candy on your couch lmao-
one time though he comes with wounds a little too serious looking for the standard wet cloth and bandaid treatment you had been used to; and it scares you
you raise your voice a bit louder than he’d ever heard, in a scared tone that was different than your normal anxious voice, and you tell him he should probably definitely go to a hospital
“but I like you so much better” he leans in a little too close, holding on to you a little too tight to keep himself steady, and you suddenly realize the reality of you situation
spider-man is in your living room. he’s bleeding a lot. and you’re the first person he thought to come to; because he likes you? not like that obviously- unless it is like that? NO. people barely even notice you, no one would ever feel like that type of thing for-
“you’re staring” you can feel the shit eating grin on his face; it’s practically burning through his mask
you stutter out an apology and after stammering around for a moment you get him to sit down and do your best to treat his injuries
you can tell the disinfectant stings by the way he flinches whenever you apply it, as well as his teasing that he “thought you were supposed to be nicer than the nurses” but he does his best to sit still and let you dress all of his wounds
you both remain still for a moment, and you think you can feel his eyes on you but you’re too scared to look up. your hands are shaking; they have been this whole time.
“that’s everywhere right? I didn’t miss something?”
he takes off his mask to look you in the eye and tell you he’s okay but you’re just like ????
:O
ANYWAYS you are once again staring bc you now know spider-man’s identity???
I feel like he’s gently hold your face and just give you a quick peck to make sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries
but if you kiss him back? he’s NEVER stopping
he’ll start randomly crawling through your window with excuses of missing you or wanting to show you something
and soon he’s staying the night at your place or he’s swinging you over to his so you can stay with him
I think dates would definitely be super chill and more like hanging out at each others places than anything else
but if he does a show for his music he’d definitely want you there!!
he’d also probably pick you up and start swinging around the city with no warning just for the way you’ll grab on to him so tightly-
but ofc is you asked him not to he’d stop immediately!
doesn’t get super jealous or anything, he’s a pretty chill guy, but he will get sorta bothered if someone’s aggressively pursuing you even after knowing you two are together
like if someone doesn’t know and flirts with you he’s just like “yeah I’m lucky”
but if someone ever went so far to imply you should be unfaithful and/or should leave him he’d probably tell them to back off and either leave with you or put his arm around your shoulder and glare at them until they leave
either way he’s not starting any fights or anything though; he’s super comfortable in your relationship and hopes you are too
genuinely thinks you’re the most beautiful/handsome person ever like he WILL flex to the other spider-people if relationships come up
he’s really not in to pda though; he’ll put his arm around your shoulders/waist but that’s it. maybe hand holding depending on the situation.
but when you guys are alone he likes physical touch; don’t expect to be on top of each other or anything but having your/his head rested on the others lap or him just resting his hand on your leg is pretty common
he’s also not very big into gifts (he doesn’t buy into the capitalist need for abundance and all that) but he does like giving you jewellery/other wearable items bc he likes to see a reminder of himself/your relationship on you
pls make him a bracelet or something he’ll literally never take it off (also jewellery for any of his piercings is fair game)
he values small intimate things in a relationship; like painting each others nails, listening to each other rant about things you’re passionate about, etc
overall he may not be big and showy but he’s an amazing boyfriend and would love you like a lot
he’d also definitely write songs about/for you bc you’re so important to him and he wants the whole world to know that :((
I haven’t written fanfiction in forever but if anyone has any hobie requests I could write as headcanons I’m open to them!! :)
6K notes · View notes
dxstopiaa · 10 months
Note
hello! >u< how are you? if it's okay, may i request the sumeru men with a s/o who loooooves sitting on their lap? i hope you have a great day/night!
characters: alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari and dottore x gn! reader
warnings: sfw! may be suggestive! otherwise fluff [hii anon! i hope you are doing well too! i tried to post something even though it’s been a month, i’m so sorry <3]
Tumblr media
alhaitham
“Haitham, can i sit on your lap again?”
“…You may.” The Acting Grand Sage looked down at you, who had unknowingly sat on the desk infront, eyes gleaming so enthusiastically it’d be a shame to deny you of what you so kindly requested.
If anyone didn’t know the scribe as personally as you did, they’d say he was a cold-hearted man with a thirst only knowledge could quench— that he was incapable of demonstrating love. He’d overheard such earlier, watching the two students indulging in some pointless (and incorrect, mind you) gossip.
He wasn’t one to care of other’s perception of him, but with you in his life and his lap, he had to show at least some regard for his reputation. Seems like all you cared about at the moment was adjusting against his chest so you could snuggle your face into the corner of his neck. Firmly muscular, but comfortable.
He smelt pleasant— hints of fresh citrus and old books radiated off of him like an aura. You suppose the scent of a person really said a lot about them. Al Haitham, that once bitterly cold man had been reduced like a squeezed lemon, sour at first but you’ve drained that attitude from him. As for the other, well, the books were self-explanatory. He was a needed comfort either way.
“Can you read to me too please?”
“You ask for too much, darling...”
kaveh
“Kaveh, you wouldn’t mind me sitting on your lap, right?”
The architect’s breath hitched, pencil hovering over the unfinished blueprint. Did he just hear you right? He sighed, wondering why he felt the need to express hesitance when you’re his beloved. That’s new, and awfully endearing too.
His lack of an answer left thoughts swarming your head within seconds. Did i make him uncomfortable? Why though? You’ve done much more intimate things with him than this. You spun around on your heel, a mediocre attempt at fleeing the flustering scene. The creak of a chair accompanied with a tight grasp of a hand around your wrist had settled you onto Kaveh’s thighs.
“Don’t run away, sweetheart, i was a little taken aback, that’s all.” Your boyfriend massaged circular motions into your tense shoulders, apprehensively stiff to the touch. You melted into his gentle ministrations, finally lowering yourself into his lap securely.
“Am i not bothering your soon to be due planning?” You quizzed, turning your head to glance at the messily organised desk, fragments of graphite smeared over it and numerous pencils scattered across the surface. A professional procrastinator is what he was, he never accepted such a name from your mouth, poorly persuading you to keep quiet so he could de-stress.
“I needed a break anyway, my love, just rest with me a little while longer.”
cyno
“I know you’re busy Cyno, but can i sit with you please?”
Such innocently vague phrasing truly disguised your intentions. When you said it like that, Cyno didn’t think much of it and simply agreed. That was until you positioned yourself comfortably on his lap, legs either side of his thighs.
He gasped softly— watching you loop your arms around his neck and snuggle your face into his chest. Bold behaviour like this wasn’t normal for you but he supposed this didn’t have any deeper meaning other than wanting to be close to him.
“Dear…you don’t have anything up your sleeve, do you?” Cyno quizzed, squinting slightly to search for any reaction from you. Your light giggle and the abrupt shaking of your head suggested you didn’t have any ulterior motives.
The general grinned briefly, setting down his report to embrace you with his arms and began to kiss your forehead delicately, leaning into his gentle touch as if you were a cat starved of attention.
“Why don’t i change that, darling?”
tighnari
“Nari, sitting on your lap won’t interfere with your work, yes?”
Your boyfriend froze, the abrupt request felt unfamiliar to fall from your tongue, yet he couldn’t find it within him to decline such an offer. He placed the pen down, turning so slightly as to not let you see the hint of rose over his face.
“Well, i suppose it wouldn’t.” The forest ranger mumbled, trying his hardest not to show a trace of embarrassment. So much for the composed, knowledgeable chief everyone knew. You, on the other hand, smiled cheekily, walking over to see what mess you’ve made.
Just as you were about to tease him, Tighnari seized your waist and spun you around to sit facing the other way. Of course, you facepalmed yourself mentally, how could you limit your lover’s sharp mind?
Tighnari was not about to let you make fun of him with your little tricks— like how you did numerous times before.
“Not so fast darling. I think i deserve an apology for that, physical or verbal, it’s up to you.”
dottore
“My husband, can i sit here with you?”
Dottore trailed his scarlet eyes over your torso, following your outstretched arm until he witnessed your own finger directed to his very lap. You… wanted to sit on him? How flatteringly bold of you. He shifted his legs to let you move in between, patting his situationally vacant legs.
“As you wish, my love, don’t keep me waiting.”Your lover chuckled as your sudden expression adapted into a more coy smile, whether this was from hesitance or excitement, he didn’t know. Your gentle hands reached for his shoulders, so lightly as if you were afraid.
His thighs were firm yet soft enough to rest your own on top, allowing the harbinger to run his fingers along your back whilst he admired the way in which you’d relax against him without a care in the world. He only mattered to you in this moment— the unexpectedly soft, caring husband no one knew of but yourself.
Dottore hasn’t meant to become so attached to the feeling of your thighs encasing him, now it was the only way he was fond of, with you right where you’re safe.
Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes