#the smiley face is making me laugh on the sweater here

[rimbaudofficial]

#izzy hands #tiny izzy hands #our flag means death #im_rights doll #10 cm cloth doll #the smiley face is making me laugh on the sweater here

[mathanlin]

// mentions of past abuse & neglect, burns

Foster AU where foster kid!Tommy’s ready to destroy the Watsons.

Not *fight* them — he’s not stupid (and… maybe he falters at their persistent kindness). But there’s other ways to get his anger out. 

Like vandalism.

And his first target is Phil’s stupid parenting book.

The stupid fucker left it out, bookmarked and all. It falls open as Tommy snatches it, intending to shred the thing.

His eyes catch a few words. Abuse. Neglect. Trauma.

But what he truly reads is the highlighted line.

“...may act aggressive or lash out to hide their fear.”

Tommy… hesitates.

No. This is adrenaline & anger, not— not fear. 

But he won’t rip the book to confetti (celebrating how he’ll surely be forced out). He just grabs a pen, scribbling out the stupid highlighted line.

And scrawls his own note. “Fuck you. I’m not fucking afraid.”

And he’s *not.*

Not when he’s driving back from school, bantering with (and insulting) the twins. Not when he strolls into the Watson’s house, laughing too loud to be safe.

Not when he sees Phil on the couch, book open in his lap.

Tommy freezes in the doorway, paralyzed as the twins tumble past him.

Phil looks up. Right at Tommy. And… maybe, just for a second, he’s afraid. 

But that’s replaced by jaw-dropping confusion as Phil just *smiles,* setting the book to the side. “Hey mate. How was the day?”

Fuck it. Tommy hates him, but he hates being confused more. (And that’s what this is. Confusion. Not fear.)

So he stays silent as the twins joke with him, as Phil makes supper, as they drift off to bed.

And the moment he’s alone, he rushes to the book & flips it open.

There’s his mess of scribbled-out lines. His note, in ugly bold. 

And… neat, small handwriting, right beneath it.

“It’s alright to be scared *or* angry.”

And next to it, a *fucking smiley face.*

Tommy’s jaw drops even before his eyes flick to the other note, a Post-It on the page.

“It’s the one-week anniversary of your first day here! We’d love to get you a gift, let me know what you’d like.” 

One week. Like he’s staying.

Like he deserves gifts, after what he’s done.

Tommy’s eyes don’t burn. He doesn’t forget to breathe, trembling quietly.

No. He just scoffs out loud. (Even if it wavers painfully, far too close to a sob.)

And grabs a pen.

The next morning, the book’s moved, sitting on the end table next to Phil’s favorite mug. 

And the next evening, there’s a stack of gifts outside Tommy’s room. (Despite his note, “I don’t need shit. Fuck off.”)

Soft sweaters. Little fidget toys. Candy.

And an annotating set.

Tommy much prefers his permanent marker — thick, bold, destructive.

But Phil never seems to see it like that. No matter how much Tommy swears or blots out the book’s sappier lines. 

And even then, he’s… talking, more. Having genuine conversations through notes in the margins.

“Which of these sounds nice?”

Tommy goes still, staring at Phil’s neat handwriting. His heart hitches at the little chart above it. Types of affection. Hugs. Compliments. Gifts.

Hand trembling, he grabs his own pen. No sharpie.

For once, he feels like being quiet.

“I don’t need any of these. I never have.”

The thought festers in his mind, no matter how many times Wil ruffles his hair or Techno’s dry remarks turn to compliments. Or how Phil looks at him, so impossibly soft.

And when Phil replies, it’s only two words. 

“Page 96.”

Tommy can barely turn the pages, his hands are shaking so hard. 

And when he does, he can hardly see through his tears.

The book’s text is neat. Scientific. Pragmatic. 

And it still tears Tommy apart.

“Every child requires and deserves affection, both physical and emotional.”

Then, a little note below it. Phil’s.

“Please let me know if you’d like to talk.”

And… Tommy wants to, if just to answer the questions crying out in his mind. 

To stop his tears from dripping onto the book’s pages. 

(If I deserved it, why didn’t I get it?)

He tucks the book under his arm, grabbing Phil’s mug from the end table with shaking hands. 

Tea. He’ll make tea. Phil’s favorite, so that even if he pushes Tommy away, maybe he won’t hate him enough to force him away for good.

(And so Tommy can calm himself. So he can stop crying, so he can talk instead of sob.)

But he never gets the chance to speak.

One trembling misstep is all it takes.

The mug tips, sending boiling water over Tommy’s desperately reaching hands. With a horrible crash, it shatters across the floor.

And the stupid fucking book sits right in the puddle’s center, no longer soaked with just Tommy’s tears. 

Right there, he gives up, crumpling to the kitchen floor despite the shards beneath him.

It doesn’t matter that his hands ache, in agony from the scalding burn. His heart hurts worse, as he finally lets himself sob, alone.

It isn’t anger. It isn’t just adrenaline.

It’s fear.

But it doesn’t matter. He won’t ask for comfort or someone to cling to.

(Even if he apparently ‘needs’ and ‘deserves’ it.)

No. He’ll stay quiet — what every foster parent had wanted of him, and what only Phil had managed to get.

He’d wanted to break everything in the beginning. To be loud, to destroy things, to hurt the Watsons in any way possible.

But now, if he’s the last thing to break? 

He’ll give no words, no written notes.

He’ll be quiet.

.

.

.

“Oh god. Tommy.”

It’s the worst thing that could’ve happened. Phil, standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at the broken porcelain. And the book, utterly ruined. 

But the things he seems most concerned with are Tommy’s hands. 

“Here,” he says, guiding Tommy to the sink and nudging his hands beneath the cold water. He obeys numbly, frozen as Phil disinfects and bandages every burn.

When he finishes, Tommy finds the strength to speak, curled into the couch like it could protect him.

“Are you mad at me?”

They’re the first words he’s spoken directly to Phil in ages. With his burnt, bandaged hands, it’s not like he can write.

(And maybe he’d like to hear Phil’s voice, too.)

Phil looks at him so softly Tommy can almost believe what he says.

“No. I’ve never been mad at you.”

“But— I broke your mug.”

“I just want you to be okay,” Phil says, glancing at Tommy’s bandaged hands like they’re hurting him too. He laughs quietly. “The mug doesn’t matter.”

“And… and the book?”

Phil goes still, and Tommy almost sobs in fear.

But the man just leans closer, ducking his head to meet Tommy’s eyes like he’s uttering a promise.

“I only cared about that book because of you,” he says quietly. “So you’d feel comfortable. So you’d ask me for whatever you needed.”

Tommy swallows, curled in on himself. There’s no time to think about his response, no proofreading like when he’d written them out. 

So when Phil quietly asks, “Is there anything you need?”

Tommy whispers, weak and desperate, “A hug?”

And of course, Phil gives it. That, and so much more.

The mug’s shards get sweeped up, and the first thing Phil makes in the kitchen is Tommy’s favorite breakfast. 

For once, he lets himself enjoy it. Enjoy *them,* their laughter and love so freely given.

And the first thing he writes after his hands have healed? 

His name. His signature, really.

Right next to Phil’s, on the final line of his adoption papers.

#mcyt #dsmp #dsmp au #sbi #sbi au #threadfic #tommyinnit #technoblade #wilbur soot #philza

[evanspresso]

The blind date

listen to this tension filled song while reading.

The end of August is always the time where y/n desperately tries to hold onto her last moments of freedom before going back to the east coast. 

Sometimes she doesn’t understand why she decided to stay in the city, most of her friends attend school in the west coast and she always regrets deciding to stay in her comfort zone. Especially when she has to say goodbye. 

So, when y/n receives a text from her friend telling her that they were going to meet her boyfriend and his best friend for lunch, y/n excitedly replied with a bunch of smiley faces after receiving the details. Of course, she never had a clue on who she would be meeting, or what her friends intention of lunch would actually be. 

As y/n climbed out of the Uber and stretched her shoulders against her sweater blouse, deeply regretting her style choice as she revived a text from Wren, the ding making her stop in her tracks. 

Wren: running late, I think they’re already at the table!

Y/n groaned, hating that she’d meet two people she didn’t even know, without her bubbly best friend at her side. She huffed and yanked on the restaurant door before peering into the dining room, the air conditioning instantly calming her nerves. 

“I think my party is already here, Maybe under the name, Wren?” y/n said to the host who glanced at the reservation book.

“Yes! I just sat someone from your party. You can follow me, miss.” the host said cheerfully making y/n smile and follow in the younger girl’s tracks. “Enjoy!” 

Y/n pressed her lips together as she noticed that only one person sat at the table, his back facing her as she thanked the host. 

She cleared her throat as she grabbed for her chair, catching the man’s eye causing him to peer up at her and instantly stand. 

“Hi, you must be y/n.” he said, extending his hand out for her to shake.

“Hello.” she gave him a tight lipped smile before sliding down into her chair. “I guess we beat them to it!” she chuckled dryly.

The man scratched the back of his neck and chuckled, looking around the restaurant before nodding towards y/n. “I don’t know why they’re not here yet, it’s not like there’s any traffic.” he said. "Umm.. I’m Evan by the way".

Y/n smiled, her eyebrows raising as she looked at her phone screen to see if Wren had texted her. "I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” 

y/n: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT TELL ME AN ACTOR WAS COMING TO LUNCH?!?!?! ALSO WHERE TF ARE YOU????

“I just texted Wren to see where she is.” y/n said trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down even though a literal actor was sat in front of her, an actor, who she’d yell at through the screen as she watched him portray many roles. Some more swoon worthy than others. Some, just down right scary and made her stomach all queasy.

She tried to hold in a laugh as she remembers cursing at him on multiple occasions, throwing her popcorn at the screen and groaning loudly at his actions that unfolded through the show. “Asshole!” was a common name she’d call him, for obvious reasons. And, of course she tried to push away the memories of her blushes and squeals she'd let out too.

Evan nods as he reached for his drink as his phone starts to buzz against his jean pocket. He shuffled around in his seat as he digs around for it, showing y/n the screen to reveal that it’s his best friend that was supposed to meet them. 

Y/n sat there awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs as she watched him answer the call, she watched his face deadpan into a grimace, his eyes widening as she heard laughing on the other end. “What the fu-” Evan grumbled before his best friend suddenly hung up and left Evan holding out his phone in complete shock. 

“What?”

“They’re not coming.” Evan clears his throat. 

Y/n furrows her brows, shaking her head as she looked around trying to see if they’re on some pranked reality tv show. “What do you mean, they’re not coming?” she questions, annoyance dripping from her words causing Evan to glare at her slightly. 

“They set us up. That’s what I mean.” 

Y/n scoffs, folding her arms across her chest as she shakes her head at him, knowing that her best friend would never do this to her. 

Wren would never- well… maybe she would. No, of course she would do this to y/n! Wren knows how utterly, embarrassingly single y/n has always been, and what better way to humiliate her. 

y/n: you BETTER call me NOWWW and make up an excuse for me to leave!!!!!!!

y/n: WRENNN YOU FUCKER 

y/n: I HATE YOU THIS IS SO AWKWARD😭😭😭😭

Before Evan and y/n could even decide on their next moves, the waiter approached the table, notepad in hand, asking the pair If they’d like to order. 

Their eyes meet and they both huff out, shrugging as Evan lifts his hand top from the table. 

“I mean.. I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“I guess I could eat..” y/n shrugs, holding up her menu. “I’ll have four spicy shrimp rolls with spicy mayo.” she says to the server. “Thanks.” 

“Hmm, make that eight.” Evan says before looking at y/n, “Do you mind?” 

She hums and shakes her head no while making him smile and hand his menu to the waiter before they walk away after taking y/n’s. 

Evan leans back into his chair, running his palms against his thighs as he studies y/n. He notices her heart shaped lips, and her hair that is perfectly tucked into a ponytail. 

He can’t help but notice her manicured nails as she twiddles her thumbs, noticing how her eyes scan the restaurant, and how quiet she is as she just sits there, almost like she’s waiting for him initiate the conversation. 

“Aren’t you hot in that?” Evan finally asks.

Y/n blushes, resting her chin on her wrist as she glances at him from across the table. She bites her tongue from snapping at him for a reason unknown to her. 

Maybe he seem’s a little too cocky, and maybe its because he’s an actor, so why is he even still sitting here with her? she thinks. 

“No.” It's never too early for autumny cardigans. August is basically the open door to pumpkins and even more spice.

Evan nods, tapping his foot under the table as he sighs, watching as she shifts in her seat awkwardly. “Soooo…” 

“Soo.” 

He clears his throat and bites the inside of his cheek, before reaching for the pen that’s in his jacket pocket. “Wanna play a game?” 

Her ears perk at his question as she nods questionably while she watches him pull out the pen and slide one of the napkins in front of him. “We each write something on our napkins that describe us.” she suggests. 

Y/n gives him a funny glance but nods as he smiles at her, his playfulness making her eyes gleam as she watches him cover his napkin from her view. They both laugh lightly as he gives her small glances trying to shield his writing from her. 

“Okay, my turn!” y/n says happily as Evan hands her the pen before he folds his napkin so she can’t see what he’s jotted down. 

Time passes between the two like a blink of an eye, y/n and Drew coming to the realization that maybe they don’t mind each others company. 

Maybe Evan’s jokes make y/n’s heart flutter a little too much, and y/n’s smile make Evan’s cheeks turn a deep pink without him even trying to hide it. 

They talk and talk for what seams like hours as they eat their sushi rolls, inevitability ordering seconds and thirds, with dessert following behind. 

Their little game had been long forgotten because of easy conversation and a little competition of who can eat the most sushi rolls without taking a break or drinking water. 

“Well, this is the best blind date I’ve ever been on.” Evan says as he pulls out y/n’s chair.

“This was the first one I’ve been on so obviously I’m impressed.” she responds making him bump his shoulder against hers playfully, causing them both to laugh loudly as they make their way out of the restaurant. 

“Hey! we forgot about the game!” Evan suddenly says making y/n turn to look up at him. 

“How about we look at them when we go our separate ways… and if I like what you wrote, maybe I’ll challenge you to how many ice cream scoops you can eat without getting brain freeze.”

Evan lets out a laugh causing y/n to blush, “Deal!” he said handing her his napkin. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” he says quietly.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. I’ve been pleasantly surprised this whole time.” y/n blushes. 

Evan sucks in a breath, leaning towards y/n and smiling at their substantial height difference. He feels y/n’s cheeks flush as he presses his lips against her soft skin and lets them linger for a second too long causing y/n’s eyes to flutter closed. 

“Until text time then. Hopefully.” he whispers before backing away.

“We shall see.” y/n teases before hugging him goodbye. 

Y/n watched Evan walk down the street, his hands in his pockets striding further away from her. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the napkin and opens it, her lips lifting into a sweet smile as she reads what he’s written down. 

She sighs knowing that she’s already got it bad, she admires his handwriting and his personality in his writing even more. 

“I love rainy days with a blanket and a cup of coffee and a book”

-

Notes and comments are greatly appreciated!! xx

#evan peters fluff #tate langdon x reader #peter maximoff imagine #evan peters smut #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x reader #evan peters imagine #evan peters x you #Evan Peters x reader #jimmy darling x reader #mr gallant imagine #mr gallant #ahs evan peters #kai anderson imagine #kai anderson #kit walker imagine #kit walker #kyle spencer imagine

[roosterscockpit]

His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x reader p. 7

click here to see the master list

It is here my lovesss! The second post for this double post day! I really hope you all are enjoying the fic so far! Once again thank you from the bottom of my heart for all your love and support! I love you all 💕 Happy reading!

A/n: Get your sun hats and sunglasses ready bestiessss! We are going to the beach 😎 Things are about to heat up 😉☀️🌴 Enjoy! 🍹

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Cursing, description of hot naked torsos of men (If there are any that I missed please let me know!)

y/n/n: your nick name

Please don't take my work, I will find you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day you and Bri were going to bring Leia to the beach to hang out with Penny. You dressed Leia in a cute bathing suit, lathered her in sunblock and finished with a cute bucket hat. You put one of your sweaters on her so she could wear it in the mean time. You put on a black one piece that had cute cut outs to show a little skin. Then you added an oversized sun hat and a black sheer long skirt. You and Bri loaded the car with stuff for Leia to play with and a cooler filled with drinks and food. You drove to the beach and parked in the parking lot of the Hard Deck where Penny was waiting for you. 

You got out of the car and greeted one another. Penny got Leia out of the car and carried her over to the sand while skipping. Leia was giggling as she bounced up and down with every skip Penny did. “Are you ready for some sand, sweetie?” Penny put her down.

Leia’s feet hit the warm sand and she did a little jump. “It’s a little warm.” She hopped around getting used to the sand. “Penny can you take off my sweater! I wanna make a sand angel.” She lifted her arms up.

Penny lifted the oversized jacket over Leia’s head. Leia laid in the sand and started to move her arms and legs to make an angel. She got up and pointed to her masterpiece. “Look!” Penny bent down and drew a little smiley face on the angel’s head. 

Penny: “Okay, let’s dust you off before mom comes and sees you’re already covered in sand.” She laughed and patted Leia down. “Can you help me set up some towels, sweetie?” She handed Leia a Star Wars towel she brought for her and Leia squealed. 

She hugged the towel and threw it in the air, “Thank you!!! I love it!!” She laid it down and Penny sat with her on the towel. 

Penny adjusted Leia’s little bucket hat and pulled a plastic bucket with some little shovels from her beach bag. “Do you want to build a super cool sand castle with me, Leia?” She said while holding the shovels by her face. Leia smiled and nodded her head. Penny gave her a shovel and they started to fill the bucket together.

Bri invited Billy and Austin to come as well. They got there a couple of minutes after you two. They unloaded the car and went to go set up the umbrella, towels, chairs and ice chest where Penny and Leia were already starting to build a sandcastle. 

Austin gave you a kiss on the cheek after he was finished setting up and you blushed. 

Austin: “Hey, you look really beautiful in your beach attire.” He fiddled with part of your sheer skirt. He looked at you and you could pretty much see the hearts in his eyes.

You played with your skirt and tilted your head to look at him under your oversized sun hat, “Thank you, Austin.” You smiled just keeping it casual. You were still getting to know the sweet guy.

He nodded to you, “You’re welcome, y/n. I’ll see you around. I’m going to go take a dip with Billy.” 

After Austin left with Billy to the water Bri ran over to you. She almost trampled you over. She threw her hands around you, “God girl he was basically drooling over you.” She bumped your hip with hers. She laid her head on your shoulder and you two watched the guys as they submerged into the water. “They’re so cute I swear.” 

You gently pushed her head off of your shoulder, “Sis you're drooling on me.” You laughed and she pushed you. 

You, Bri and Penny relaxed on the chairs and were tanning as the boys took Leia out to the water. Your hot skin felt cool and the sun was being blocked. Then you heard a familiar voice approach the three of you.

Mav: “Ladies.” 

You lifted your sunglasses and hat and smiled up at Mav. “Hey Mav!”

Penny: “What are you doing here Pete?”

Mav: “The pilots that I’m teaching are actually going to come out here for some football today.”

You shifted you look to Bri and your eyes got wide. She looked at you and lifted her sunglasses too. She wiggled her eyebrows at you and leaned over. “Some hot aviators on the beach, say less girl.” She put her sunglasses back on and sat back to tan and listen to Mav. 

You felt the butterflies kick up in your stomach and your body started to tingle. That meant Bradley was going to be here. You wanted to get up and gather all your stuff grab your daughter and run. Right as you sat up, Mav was already looking in their direction and flagging them down. 

Mav: “Hey everyone! We will go and set up down there!” He pointed to a spot that was kind of far away from where you where sitting. 

You peeked over your seat slightly and barely lowered your sunglasses. You searched the group of pilots and saw Bradley in the back talking to one of the female’s. He was showing her something on his phone. He was wearing a Naval academy shirt, some jean shorts, flip flops and his famous aviators. 

You sighed in relief when they all started to walk over the other way, away from you. You turned back around to face forward. You looked out to see your daughter running up to hug Mav. 

She gave him a big hug from behind. She was all wet, getting him wet. “Hi Mav!”

He looked under his arm to see your daughter hugging him at his hip. “Hey my little Jedi. How are you sweetheart!” He picked her up and gave her kisses on her cheek.

You smiled. “Jedi?” 

Mav looked at you. “Yea like... Star Wars…”

You interrupted. “No… Mav. Princess Leia is not a Jedi.” You laughed.

He smiled back at you and shook his head. “Well I don’t know, y/n!” He laughed.

Leia yelled at looked at Mav. “I’m not a Jedi!” 

Mav: “Okay what are you then, sweetheart?” He patted her belly.

Leia:  “I’m a princess, Mav.” She frowned and pushed her forehead to his.

Mav: “I know you are a princess, sweetie. But how about you be my little Jedi warrior?” He poked her nose.

Leia: “Okay but then you’ll be…” She thought about it as she tapped on her chin, “My Papa Mav if I’ll be a COOL Jedi warrior.” She was smiling at Mav. 

Mav narrowed his eyes at her and smiled. “Deal.” He poked her on her nose. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and let her down. “I’ll come back to catch up after work is done today ladies. Enjoy your time in the sun!” Then he jogged over to the group and waved bye to you all. 

The boys came up to the area where you girls were sitting. They started to dry themselves and dress back in their clothes. 

Billy to Bri: “Hey babe, Austin and I have to get going. We were gonna meet up with the guys.” He sat at the edge of her lounge chair dusting the sand off of his feet. 

Bri: “Okay! Well thanks you guys for coming out for a bit!” She kissed Billy.

Y/n: “Yea thanks for coming out guys.” You smiled at Austin. 

Austin planted a kiss on your head and they were off. Penny looked at you with a devilish look. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

Penny: “Was that Darth Vader?” She was smiling.

You didn’t answer just stayed silent and she started to laugh. “God, I love you y/n.”

After you were all finished sun bathing, Penny played with Leia resuming their sand castle as you and Bri went for a walk by the shoreline. You walked by all the naval pilots that Mav came with hoping no one in particular would see you walk by. They had their own little set up. They had chairs out with umbrellas, some food and a radio that was blasting some music as they started to form the teams. You could see that Bradley was one of the team captains and the other was a tall blonde haired man with abs of a god. You watched as Bradley called for people on his team. Thankfully he had his back toward you as you walked behind him on the shoreline. You literally were inches from him. Your skirt grazing his leg. You got the slightest whiff of his cologne and your body tingled. 

You leaned over to Bri, “He literally still smells the same.”

She looked at you confused, “What are you talking about?” She looked around, “Who still smells the same?”

You pointed over your shoulder to the group of pilots, one of which was Bradley. She was looking around and looked back at you, “Girl, what the hell are you talking about?”

You sighed loudly, “Bradley! Bradley Bradshaw! Our old roommate!” You were now walking further away from them. You turned to start walking up the beach, so now they were on the side of you but still far. You pointed him out. He was standing there with his team, still in his clothes from earlier. He had his hands on his hips as he was chatting with his team. 

Bri stopped and pulled her sunglasses off. She studied the man you pointed out. You both stood there for a little bit. Bradley started to run up to their little set up. He kicked off his flip flops and pulled his shirt over his head. 

Her jaw practically dropped, “NO FUCKING WAY THAT IS BRADSHAW, Y/N!” She looked at you in disbelief. She pointed to him as he started to stretch his arms out. You followed her finger’s direction and now your jaw hit the floor. 

Your eyes got wide, “Holy fuuuuuuuck…” You said slowly as you admired his strong body. His shoulders were broad, he had freaking abs, his biceps were huge, his back so toned. You blinked a couple of times. You were stunned. 

Bri pulled you to continue the walk, “There is no way that is Bradley.” You nodded at her. “The Navy definitely did that boy some good because holy HOT y/n!!!” She kept looking over at him. 

You hit her arm, “Stop staring he will see us!” She pushed you away from her and kept looking. You started to pull her in a direction away from him, “Come onnnnn Bri.”

“He has the body of a thousand Gods, y/n! How could I not stare! He used to be…. Well not exactly like that when he lived with us.” She was still staring at him. She looked at you, “You should totally go talk to him!” She gave you a little push in his direction. You stopped yourself and ran to the other side of her giving her a death glare.

“I am not going over there. He’s working, Bri.”

You made it out safely and continued your walk. On your way back you walked away from the shore line more in the sand. You were walking by their set up and their radio was blasting, Take My Breath Away by Berlin. You could still hear the commotion coming from the group of hot shirtless men and women as one of them with glasses caught the ball and ran into the end zone. Everyone started to cheer for him. 

Then there he was, glistening like a damn vampire in the sun. Picking up the one with glasses so effortlessly and putting him on his shoulders. God he looked good. His toned abs and his V line that peaked out a little because his shorts were slowly trickling down his hips. His arms bigger than ever and his pecks so full. He looked so good you started to feel yourself get flush. And it wasn’t from being warm from the heat. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. You could see his veins bulging out of his biceps as he held on to his teammate. He was yelling and cheering for him. The vein in his forehead was popping out slightly. He was definitely a sight for sore eyes. He took your breath away. He looked so damn good, it was a crime.

Bri nudged you because she noticed you were heavily distracted and you looked at her, “Take my breath awaaaayyyyyyy.” She sang with the song as she mocked you. You rolled your eyes and looked back over. 

He put the guy with glasses down and readjusted his aviators. He started to look over in your direction and you turned away quickly. You were hoping you were far enough for him not to notice you. You and Bri walked quickly back to your area. They continued to play football and you watched him from afar. You saw Penny doing the same as she lightly bit her lip as she watched Maverick. 

You chuckled to yourself. “Is someone getting the googly eyes for a certain captain?” You smiled devilishly at her. 

She threw her towel at you. “Not a chance.” And she looked back in their direction doing it all over again. 

You continued to watch them play and Bradley threw the winning touchdown to one of the guys. He ran towards one of his teammates and jumped up to chest bump with him. As he planted back onto the ground, he did a little dance and your jaw practically fell and hit the floor. That was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life. You bit your lip and were in a daze until Mav came over and sat at the end of your chair. 

You looked at him and he smiled at you. “Were you enjoying the view over there ladies?” He laughed as he put his shirt back on and adjusted his aviators. 

You looked at Penny. “I know a particular someone who was enjoying one person’s view.” You smiled.

Mav: “Bradley’s?” He looked at you while he started to dust the sand off of his legs. “Your jaw is still on the floor, sweetheart.” He was laughing at you. 

You slapped Mav’s arm and scoffed. “Not a chance, Mav.” You laughed.

Mav patted your foot, “I’m kidding y/n. I’m just teasing you, sweetheart.”

You shook your head at him, “mmmhmmm.”

Mav started to dust the sand off of his feet, “So you going to go talk to him, y/n?”

You sighed. “I don’t think I will today. I haven’t put too much thought into what I want to say to him.” You were being very solemn. 

Mav looked at you and took a deep breath as he accepted your answer. 

You continued to lay on your chair in the sun. You had your eyes closed. Then you heard an all too familiar voice.

Bradley: “Hey Mav, here are the balls. We are about to kick back and have some food.”

Mav: “Okay cool. Thanks Rooster.” He took the footballs from Bradley and placed them next to your feet. 

Your eyes shot open you turned your head slowly away hoping he wouldn’t look at you.

He cleared his throat and lowered his aviators, “Y/n/n? Is that you?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IT'S FINALLY HERE!! BRADLEY HAS SPOTTED YOU FORREAL BESSSSTIES! How do you think this encounter with Bradley will be? What do yo think is going to happen? Oh my gossshhhhh!!! He's hereeeeee! 🤗 Brb I don't know how to act 🥹 I'll see you in the next! 💕

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#miles teller #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Rooster Bradshaw #top gun: maverick #top gun #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #maverick #pete maverick mitchell #tgm #Pete Mitchell #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #Bradley Bradshaw fic #Rooster x you #Rooster x reader #Rooster fic #Rooster Bradshaw x reader #Rooster Bradshaw x you #Rooster Bradshaw fic #his little girl bradley bradshaw x reader #I love u #beach scene #beach day

[worksby-gabriella]

Ours

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: The jury's out, but Y/N's choice is Eddie.

No specified gender for reader

A/N: I don't really love this, as I've said before. I'm goinna label it as a drabble but I'm probably gonna add more to it at some point soon when I actually KNOW WHAT TO FUCKING WRITE. 😄😭

Inspired by: Ours by Taylor Swift

Nancy is rambling on and on about something for the school paper in the journalism room, I wish I could listen and focus but instead I’m soaking up the stale morning air in the room. I spent the night with Eddie and I feel like that’s enough of an explanation on its own.  

  I’m reminiscing about last night’s venereal events when I’m snapped out of my haze by Nancy and Fred snapping their fingers at me, “Helloooo, earth to Y/N.”  

 I hear Nancy’s annoyed voice ring throughout the room, the silence is deafening.  

 I whip my eyes to hers as Fred joins into the conversation, “You were with the freak last night, weren’t you?”  

 His eyes look at me accusingly but I get defensive and ignore what he asked me, “Hey! Don’t call him that.”  

 I glance down at the typewriter I was working at, when I hear Nancy tsking and see her shaking her head slightly out of my peripheral vision.

 “What Nancy?” My voice comes out irritated because I know what she's getting at.  

 “I told you he’s a bad influence.”  She says in a mocking sing songy, I told you so tone.

 “I- What? N-” I start but Fred interrupts me.  

 “She’s got a point, you came in late today, you don't pay attention, you skip 4th period, and by the way we can see the hickey on your neck.”  

 I self-consciously tug up the neckline of my sweater, “That's not true, he just brings out a more contumacious side of me.”  

 “That's literally the definition of being a bad influence, Y/N.”  

 “Ugh. Not it’s not, he makes me more outgoing, I feel excited and giddy around him. Plus, I love him.” I stick out my tongue at my two friends and they lay off a bit, laughing at my childish antics.  

 Speaking of Eddie, I start to feel a sense of longing for him in this very moment. Ever since I’ve met him, I feel this constant sense of boredom when he's not around. He makes me feel alive and exhilarated. If he were here right now, we’d be laughing our asses off at everyone’s too serious expressions.  

 I feel myself smiling like an idiot at my thoughts, and glance up at the clock eager to see Eddie once again.  

 “Alright everyone, it’s 10:30! Time to wrap it up! For the long of God please make sure all your pieces have been written by tomorrow or principal Higgens will have my ass!” I yell out to everyone as they start packing up their stuff and heading out the door.  

 I’m one of the first to leave and as soon I exit the doors a pair of hands wraps around my waist, spinning me towards them. I come face to face with a smiley Eddie. My lips immediately separate and form a wide toothy grin. He pulls me closer as I laugh. Our noses are touching and he whispers, “There’s my little writer.” against my lips before giving me a quick peck on the lips.

 He pulls away as I say, “Well hello to you too, Mr. Munson.”  

 We start to walk down the Hall as he wraps a protective arm around my shoulder.

 “You know, sweetheart, I’m actually kind of digging this whole sexy teacher thing you have going on.”  

 “What do mean?” There’s a humorous tone in my voice.  

 “I was watching you through the window on the door. You’re all walking around revising people’s work, directing them, dismissing them.”  

 “You're crazy, Munson.”  

 “Only about you, Y/N, only about you. Almost makes me want to join the school paper.”

 I’m laughing and Eddie is watching me with a content smile. I notice people are watching me and him walk together. It’s not unusual for this to occur, when people found out about me and Eddie, they were nothing short of shocked. Hawkins High had an idea of me, an idea that couldn't be any more different than the idea they had of Eddie.  

 Their idea of me is very clean. I’m a good student, I get good grades, I abide by the rules, I’m innocent in every way possible, I’m soft, a people pleaser if you will. I’m nothing more than good. Their idea of Eddie is extremely tainted. He’s not the brightest, he’s a rule breaker, he’s a stoner, he’s rough, he simply didn’t care. Where they right? Perhaps they were but that doesn't mean someone like me can’t love Eddie, and that Eddie is crazy in every way. You know what they say, opposites attract.

 “They're staring again.”  

 “Hm, I guess they are.”  

 I hide my face in the crook of his arm not liking the attention.  

 “Well then let’s give them something to watch.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye.  

 “Eddie-” 

  He cuts me off, kissing me once again, his lips move in sync with mine, and I can feel the tips of his tongue start to nudge my lip, asking for permission to enter my mouth. His hand moves down my shoulder to my waist, pulling me closer as we stop walking all together. I hear movement stop in the hallway and the nose level gets slightly more hushed. His hand travels back up my back and into the hair at the back of my head, twisting in my hair. One of my hands is grasping his bicep for leverage as the other holds my notebook. I let out a whimper, only quiet enough for to Eddie hear.  

 Before Eddie this wasn’t my thing, PDA that is, but since him, all I want is for him to act on his desires at any moment. It makes me giddy when I think about him wanting others to know about us, he wants poeple to know I'm his and he's mine. I think it's sweet, and like, insanely hot.

 He finally pulls away, leaving me to hope we’ll resume this rendezvous later, in private. His lips are ever so slightly smudge with my pink lip-gloss and I can just feel how swollen my lips are, “What were you saying?” He asks me, smugly.  

 I shake my head, moving his hand back to my shoulder, “real smooth, love.”  

 People carry on with their judgmental looks and Eddie knows it’s making me conscious because he tips my head up with his free hand, “Hey sweetheart, people only care so much because they love to be envious when others are happy. Or at least I hope your happy.”  

 He adds that last part to lighten the mood.

 “of course, you make me happy.”  

 He gives me a warm smile as I continue on, “People love to throw rocks at things that shine.”  

 “Exactly. And don’t you worry your pretty little mind because we are carrying on that little stunt later.” He winks at me pulling away, and slyly slaps my ass as we arrive at my next class.  

#eddie munson/reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things moodboard #stranger things #fluff #steve harrington #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #max mayfield #eleven #chief hopper #taylor lyrics #joyce byers #johnathan byers #argyle #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair

[chrisevansonly]

Happy Mother’s Day Momma (little duck Headcannon)

pairing: chris evans x wife reader (momma)

summary: it’s mother’s day and you’re surrounded by so much love

warnings: none<3

a/n: here’s 1/2 au mother’s day headcannons getting out today, im gonna try and get some other things finished <3

You could hear giggles coming down the hallway to the master bedroom as you slowly started to wake up, it was just after 9:30 so you knew Chris let you sleep in and got both Arlie and Wesley ready for the day

Rubbing your eyes you watched as Arlie pushed the door open

“Happy momma’s day momma!!”

You sat up just in time to catch her as she jumped up onto the bed with you, arms wrapping around you

“Thank you my baby”

Wesley started bouncing in Chris’s arms as he laughed a wide grin on his face

“Da da da!”

“No buddy it’s ma ma…not dada’s day”

“Da da!!”

Ever since Wesley said his first word he’s been screaming dada everywhere he goes, Chris loves it and lets be honest so do you

“Come here my smiley boy, I can forgive you for today”

Chris handed him to you and you pressed kisses across his face inciting little giggles to spill from his mouth

“Happy mother’s day baby”

Finally you smiled up at Chris, tilting your head back so he could press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, there was nowhere else in the world you’d want to be than right here with your perfect little family

“Thank you my loves, this was the best wake-up ever”

“Momma s’gonna get better! Daddy n me got you some pwesents too!!”

Your eyes widened as you looked at her, Wesley busy gnawing on the strings to your (chris’s) sweater

“Oh you did? Well how about we snuggle a bit longer and then you can show me all the wonderful things you organized for me”

“Okay momma, love you”

Smiling and making room for Chris to slide in next to you, getting comfortable against his chest you smiled down at your family, more than lucky to have them in your lives

“I love you guys so much too”

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #little duck au💛🐥 #ruesfriends💛 #momma x little duck 💛🐥 #chris evans x little duck💛🐥 #little duck 💛🐥 #little duck head cannons🐥💛 #momma x arlie mae #momma & arlie mae #chris evans x momma evans #asks with momma e #chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans x wife reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x fluff #dad! chris evans

[ccbb2222]

"Coach" Ted Lasso x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: *Sigh* I wrote you Smut . This came from a scene in the comforting Ted prompt I wrote, and had to explore the concept :) it’s minorly kinky- nothing cray.

Summary: In which the reader finds out that Ted likes to be called "Coach" off the pitch. AKA Ted has a Coach kink. Just a little Drabble.

You missed him. Richmond's away game had taken them far enough to constitute an overnight stay, and you were patiently waiting for the front door to open and reveal a tired and smiley Ted.

Richmond had won the game, that much you knew, so you could expect Ted to be in cheery spirits. You just hoped he was in...other spirits too.

Watching Ted on tv always, without a doubt, turned you on. The confident stance, his eyes squinting slightly to follow each play, and lord help you, when he angrily yelled at the referee. There was something so undeniably hot about watching him in his element.

Lost in your lustful thoughts, you almost missed the jiggle of the door handle. Almost.

Turning around, you saw your door open, and in walks Ted, luggage in hand.

"Hey, baby!" He greets you, setting his bags down and immediately letting out an alarmed grunt as you throw yourself into his arms.

"Imissedyousomuch," You murmur into his chest, saying it all in one breath.

"I missed you too, darlin'." He wraps his arms around you tighter, "Did you catch any of the game?"

"Sure did. Although I must admit, I was watching more of you than the game."

He laughs, "Gosh, I hope they didn't zoom in on my face too much."

"Sadly, not enough," You pout, pulling away from his chest and tilting your chin up for a kiss.

His hands cup your face and he plants a soft kiss on your lips, humming in contentment.

Before he can step away, you grab him by the puffer coat he hadn't yet shed, pulling him even closer.

"Guess you did miss me, didn't you?" He chuckles against your lips.

"More than you know, Coach." You reply, feeling him stiffen against you. "Hold on now," You say, pulling away.

He looks at you with a flushed face, eyes wide.

"Is this a kink of yours?" You ask, a grin appearing on your face.

"I, uh, well I mean, it's nice hearin' you call me Coach, I guess," Ted stammers, looking anywhere but your eyes.

"Is that so?" You tease, cupping his face and making his eyes meet yours. "Well, Coach, you won your match. It's only fair you get your reward."

Ted's eyes darken, hands gripping your waist tightly. "My reward?"

"Emm, hmm." You answer, tugging him towards your bedroom. "Sit down, Coach."

Ted follows like a lost puppy and sits on the side of the bed, looking up at you. "I know you've had a long day of travel, but I think I need some one on one attention," You whisper, pulling your Richmond t-shirt over your head to reveal your naked torso.

You watch Ted grip the comforter, taking in your form. "I, uh, think that can be arranged," he replies.

You bend down to draw your pajama shorts and panties down, standing confidently in front of him, and moving toward him slowly.

Knowing that you had this power over him was intoxicating. You reach his shoulders and push his jacket off. He sits diligently, letting you undress him, and lifting his arms as you remove his Richmond sweater. You bend down to start unbuttoning his dress shirt as his hands reach up to cup your breasts.

"I thought I was the Coach," he chuckles, "You seem to be the one in charge here."

You smile, "By all means, Coach, tell me what to do."

He's quiet for a moment, taking you in, sitting before him on your knees. His eyes are darker than you've ever seen them. "Get on the bed," he says, his tone authoritative but not harsh.

You nod, moving to crawl on the bed. He turns, hovering over you as you lay down across the pillows.

Leaning down, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hands moving to grasp your breasts and massage your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

Arching your back, you moan against his lips. "Ted," You whine, needing more of him.

He moves his mouth down to suckle on your breasts, giving each ample attention before reaching to move your hand down to his crotch. He groans, then reaches for his belt, beginning to remove his pants and boxers before leaning over you once more.

"You want me, baby?" He checks, a loose lock of hair falling into his eyes.

"Yes," You practically whine at the teasing.

He pushes into you and moves to rest his hands on either side of your head, "God, I missed you."

You smile, moving your hips in time with his, "I missed you too," you whisper.

He groans, moving to kiss your neck in time with his thrusts.

“Baby,” you whisper, “Let me ride you.”

Ted pulls away quickly, rolling off of you and onto his back. You sit up and straddle him quickly.

He slides into you almost effortlessly, you were extremely turned on, after all.

“God just knowing that calling you ‘Coach’ gets you this worked up,” you chuckle, riding him, “I wish I knew it sooner.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me baby,” he says smirking up at you and thrusting his hips up sharply.

You moan in surprise and pleasure, your hands landing to rest on his chest as the two of you move together. “You mean to tell me you have more turn ons?”

“Maybe,” he smirks, spanking your ass playfully. He had never been even in the slightest bit rough with you, but you’d be lying if that playful spank didn’t cause you to whimper.

He looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, “You also got some kinks baby?” He asks smugly.

“No,” You say coyly, and moan again when he brings his hand down even harder this time.

“Fuck, Ted, I’m close.”

He pushes into you harder, “Come for me, baby girl.”

Your vision is painted white as you close your eyes in pleasure, riding out your orgasm.

In a matter of three staggered thrusts, Ted is moaning beneath you, before gently moving you off of him and pulling your figure to his chest.

“Well,” you say, catching your breath, “Welcome home, Coach.”

Ted laughs, kissing the top of your head, “Time to hit the showers.”

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso x oc #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso x you

[rubywolf0201]

More Incorrect FE Engage Quotes

Merrin: I'm every bit as cool as Yunaka. And if I'm not, let me be struck by... *thunder roars* ...a flying ice cream truck.

*ice cream truck comes falling down*

Merrin: AND LIVE!

*ice cream truck slows down and lands on top of Merrin*

—————————————————————————————————————

Ivy: Princess Timerra, no matter what I've said, I've always sort of liked you!

Timerra: Princess Ivy, I used your tome to unclog the toilet!

Ivy: WHAT?!?!

—————————————————————————————————————

Diamant: Wait a minute... This isn't my documents on taxes. This is an ordinary paper that's been crumpled up, torn slightly, soaked in the water and kissed with Coral Blue Number Two Semi-gloss Lipstick.

Amber: *is now holding a purse and wearing lipstick* Actually, it's Coral Blue Number- *Jade whacks Amber on the head with her notepad*

—————————————————————————————————————

Vander: Did you two get paint all over my first sewn sweater?

Clanne: We're sorry, Vander!

Framme: We're so sorry!

Vander: *looks at Clanne & Framme again* And then did you draw on it with crayon?!

*The sweater has a smiley face and two Gold signs drawn on with black crayon*

Framme: *holding black crayon while Clanne stares at her* I thought, you know, maybe he'd buy it.

—————————————————————————————————————

Hortensia: WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!

Fogado: Well, since we finished everything on the list, I thought I'd make up a new one. I already filled up this book of ideas. *holds up a book that says "Friends 4 Ever"* We should be able to finish this by January.

Hortensia: *slaps book away* FORGET THE BOOK! I spent the whole day with you, doing all kinds of ridiculous things because you were supposed to explode!

Fogado: *acts surprised* You want me to explode?

Hortensia: Yes! That's what I've been waiting for!

Fogado: Um, okay, I'll try. *yells* BUNET! PANDREO! YOU TWO ARE GONNA FINISH YOUR DESSERT AND YOU TWO ARE GONNA LIKE IT! *laughs* Now it's your turn!

Hortensia: THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT, YOU IDIOT!!!

Fogado: *claps* Ooh, good one.

Hortensia: No!

—————————————————————————————————————

Veyle: I hope this doesn't mean that we're missing the one thing that's nearest and dearest to our hearts.

Alear: Nope, I'm right here.

Mauvier: DIVINE ONE!

#rubi’s post #fire emblem engage #merrin #ivy #timerra #diamant #amber #vander #clanne #framme #hortensia #fogado #veyle #alear #mauvier #meta #shitpost #incorrect quotes #source: spongebob squarepants

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 37 // I...Agreed // Day 23

Contents (Warnings): Different perspectives on the events that happened, and the result of it. (vore mentions, blood mention, more character information, and further monster/magic explanations).

Wordcount: 4041 (No sleep havin' AND I WILL BE POSTING THE CONTRACT TOMORROW, in case people are wondering. I have to make it look formal first, but I'll do it).

-------------------------------------------------------------------

(Oct. 8th, Saturday)

I lifted my hand to the silver plate with a hand symbol. I didn’t take any energy, at least that I felt. I looked back at the mocking smiley face on the screen, asking for its payment. I turned back to Drake with a defeated sigh. I started to catch the light but heavy breathing. 

His head tilted down, and he was shaking. What happened?

“Drake? Are you okay?” Did I say something weird? 

He moved his head slightly away but not his body. 

“Drake?” I went forward. I couldn’t see his eyes because of his hair. Is he having a panic attack? It can’t be the space. Alexander, Lev, and Claudia could fit in here together. 

“What do you need?” I grabbed my phone from my pocket. “Do you want me to call Alexander?” He won’t answer while competing; I tried to text him but didn’t know what to say.

Or how long it’d take. Would Beatrice know what to do? Who else could I ask? His breathing got deeper. He started to tip toward me. I was afraid he’d pass out. 

“Do you need me to get you that drink?” My hands were up and ready to catch him. I didn’t know if I could hold him. He was taller than me. 

“Tell me something, anything. Please, how can I help you?”

And very softly, almost like a distant breeze, I heard him respond. “Your blood.”

He roped me with a tight hold. The suddenness was so unexpected only a breath escaped. He got my chin, turned my head, and I winced at the sharp pain. 

It felt like I was stabbed in the neck with a bundle of needles. “Aah-” My hands pressed into his chest, pushing my fingers and phone into his sweater, but Drake kept himself planted, almost crushing me against his body. 

GLP.

The full sound penetrated my eardrum. I heard the force behind his gulp, a sound I'd heard several times before. 

“Dra-ke.” The pain in my neck slowly subsided. 

His grip tightened. Immovable. I couldn't pivot or move any part of myself besides my arms. But they feel so heavy. 

GLLP.

The pull at my flesh felt the most unsettling, but the gulping reminded me of when Alexander held me in the box. I have to get away. 

My left arm fell first, then my other, making my phone drop to the ground. The rest of my body too. My voice was trapped in my vocal cords.  Why can’t I move? He still held on, keeping me from falling but leaning harder to drink. 

GLULP.

Am I dying? I didn’t feel the cold most movies and games described. But I couldn't move. Even my twitches were involuntary. This is bad; we're alone. What if he doesn't stop. He gulped again. 

My vision started to haze. I couldn’t focus on anything in the photo booth, only the slight feeling of Drake's lips on my neck and the gulping. 

Drake, please, I think you've had enough. It never left my head. And the tired feeling casted over me. It was similar to being trapped inside them, except without the surrounding gurgles and wet flesh. I only wheezed out in desperation, hearing a ringing before losing consciousness. 

…

Alexander

Zilla’s voice came out from behind the fence line. 

“You could have asked me to bring her back~.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. He was waiting his turn. “You’d use her to attract other monsters.”

Zilla muffled her laugh, “You think so little of me.”

“No, I think I know you well enough.” He replied, feeling a buzz at his phone. He took it out and looked over it. 

Lynette: Drake's .2?//wwwwwwwwww 7:23 p.m.

He assumed she wanted to text him that Drake got her. He shrugged it off. 

“Wendie,” Zilla said.

He refused to answer and turned away. I will end you, Zilla, he thought but didn't say. 

Zilla leaned over the bar, still giggling, “do you want to know why I told you, you don’t think things through?”

Alexander growled, “You can't say shit to me. You didn't enter the competition." 

She put a hand under her chin, “a competition you've entered that will make you use the majority of the energy you got from your previous meal?" She inquired, "and you plan to hold out while sweet ole’ Lynette is right in front of you?”

He narrowed at what she said. He was frustrated, Fuck. 

“Those two really talked you into it, huh? I think Lev did it to purposely mess with you and Claudia genuinely wanted to fight for the sake of new tests and skills.” Zilla replied. 

“I can get another giver after,”

“They stop allowing givers at 8 because everyone will be getting ready to go at 10.”

Alexander grit his teeth. “I’m not leaving if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

Zilla laughed, “no, I’m not saying you should leave! I simply thought it would be best to give my analysis some backup data to prove my point.” 

That’s fine. I won’t have to hang out much with her after this. Alexander thought to himself. 

His mind started to run with it and brought him back to the idea of consuming her. ZILLA, YOU ASSHOLE. He blamed her as he could feel the emptiness in his gut. 

Alexander called Drake, leaning on the sideline near Zilla. She watched her brother in the arena and remained in earshot of the phone to hear what Drake would say. 

The call went to voicemail. “Huh…”

Zilla pulled away from the railing. “I can swing by and find them. It looks like my brother is done anyway.” She pointed at the arena. What followed was a sizable explosion kept within the barrier around the area. “But of course, there'll be a price.~”

Alexander's worry was overmixed with disgust, “what is it?”

“You know what I’d want, Wendie~.” 

Alexander looked back at the field. Drake should be fine on his own.

“FINE, one lunch period. That’s it." He groaned loudly, "next time, I'm going to make sure you're the last person I talk to.”

Zilla chuckled, “sounds like a deal to me. I’ll put you in my schedule.~” 

“I hope you don’t find them, and Drake stupidly didn't answer,” Alexander muttered. Zilla pulled away from the railing. He peered back at the contest. After this fight, it was his turn in front of the much bigger crowd. 

She doesn’t have a genuine interest in the brat, nor would she attack Drake outright. Alexander assured himself. His primary concern rose again as he dialed again, and no one answered. There's no way she attracted another stubborn monster? He ran his hands through his hair. I knew it was a bad decision to bring her here. Why is she so-different. He thought as he stared at the time. Another minute passed, and he growled out. Drake. Why wouldn't he answer? And that message she sent me. 

"She told me I could take her energy." Drake's voice from earlier rang in his head. He looked back out, he didn't- Alexander ran over to the coordinators to resign. 

…

Zilla

She couldn’t help her smile. It’s very unusual for Drake not to answer, isn’t it? Not that I should complain, I get to eat Alexander because of it. 

She passed by a few other events going on. There was the vertical join, a show played out in tiny little fireworks for the children, and the mayhem maze. Definitely an event she wanted to visit later. 

Then her eyes fell to the pink house labeled Sweet's Party in the distance. She figured that's what Lynette meant by Sweet House this morning.

What would be a few reasons for Drake not to answer? She asked herself. Were they in line ordering? No, he wouldn't eat anything from there. Then was he talking with other people? But would he really ignore Alexander’s call if that was the case? Why would he ignore Alexander? Zilla got a few looks from those in their monster form. She hoped they'd give her a reason to eat them.

Then the idea popped inside her head. If Lynette was in danger, he'd be too preoccupied with keeping her safe. She gave a disappointed shake of her head. It’s almost like as soon as Alexander isn’t around, every monster loves to pick on Lynette. Understandably so; she's defenseless and puny.

Zilla saw Beatrice a little further off, talking with her fans. She's living it up, huh? Zilla thought. Now that I think about it, I should call Lynette. Drake would tell her to leave if he got into a fight. Zilla put her hands to her cheeks playfully. Poor vampire beast, he looks bulliable to others in his human form. But he shouldn’t have an issue. It's dark. 

She called Lynette, listening to the ringing in her ear, and her ears picked up the ringtone. It buzzed nearby, quiet at first but louder as she went to the left toward a photo booth. 

With a flick of her tongue and the scent in the air, her body tightened as she approached. 

Blood... She swayed momentarily, hesitantly reaching the red curtain. Though it had a gentle sweetness, the sickness rocked her, and she was ready to break her human case at a moment's notice.

…

Drake

He felt her push at him, and his grip tightened in response. He wasn't going to let her ichor slip from his mouth. 

The taste of human blood was already so appealing, but this was stronger. Not that Drake cared to play sleuth. He simply wanted all of it. Drake didn’t even recognize what he had done or who he was taking from. He was too overwhelmed by each swallow of it. 

He felt the NEED to do this, again, breaking the habit he took so long to set up. 

He felt the compulsion to take everything, drink every last drop, and claim it as his own. Though his own venom wouldn’t let that happen, it made Lynette's body increase its production so it'd feel endless. And Drake also had his own limit. 

His stomach could only hold so much, and he returned to his senses once he approached it. 

He quickly recognized the red hair and pulled back, loudly gasping. The sudden pull made everything spin. He still hugged her, stumbled around, and crouched down. He put Lynette against the wall. 

Once he tried to get back up, he fell back onto his butt. His palms were both on the floor, keeping him from falling to his back. 

He choked out breaths, feeling the intoxicating sweetness overtaking him. 

What did I do... He said in his head. He scanned her unconscious body. The wound healed at her neck, leaving a bit of blood behind. 

He could hear her soft breathing, and a worry lifted from his chest. 

She was breathing; he could still hear it. I attacked her… He put a hand to his face. Why didn't I drink from a giver? Why did it have to be her!

He was so focused on Lynette that he didn’t realize someone was outside until the curtain was yanked away. He flicked his head back.

“Zilla-”

He saw her deducting eyes sliding over the scene, “hello, Drake.”

He still huffed and couldn’t get up. “It’s-” He wanted to lie, but there’d be no use. 

“You attacked Lynette. Shame on you.” Zilla chuckled, “if anything, I thought Alexander would break the rules.”

Drake thought back to what happened with Mara. He never told his Dad, and neither did Alexander, but it was him. 

That's what he wanted to say, but this situation was different. He took advantage of Lynette, and a small part of himself loved it. 

He got to his feet, wobbling. “This is so,” his body tipped back and forth, and he fell into the wall. His mind felt pretty clear, but his body couldn't process the high yet. 

“Stop moving so much, Drake. You've clearly drunk too much.” Zilla said, almost with a hint of concern. 

He smiled at her as he chuckled softly. I'm screwed. He started to feel the bubbly, swaying feeling of drunkenness. His body began its process while Alexander got there, far too late. 

…

Alexander

He sat on the couch, looking up at the owner, who had a deep-cutting disappointment in his eyes. 

"What was your order as supervisor over Lynette?"

"Edgar-"

"Alexander." 

His fingers clenched his jeans, "watch her, and I didn't." He felt the weight on his chest. Now I'm the stupid one, and I got Drake in trouble. "Sir, then it's my fault not-"

Edgar stopped him. “Now, Alexander, don’t let her leave your side for the rest of the trip. Okay?”

The owner didn't let him talk. He left their room once Tristan finished his check-up on her.

Alexander went into their room, looking over her unconscious body. Why didn't I assume he'd struggle to be with her? He banged his fist at his forehead. Edgar's not going to give Drake a pat on the back and forgive him. Alexander knew he broke the rules too. So he'd be right behind him on the chopping block. 

He jolted out of thought when he heard her. He backed from her bed.

“Ah, my head….” 

He spoke, “how do you feel?”

She shook her head a few times, then felt at her neck, “ah, wait-he-” He saw her frantically touch it. “When did I get here?”

“I left the competition early.” Alexander said, “Tristan just said not to move around for a while.” He stopped her as she got into a sitting position. She was trying to leave her bed. “HEY! IDIOT! LISTEN FIRST!”

She argued nonsensically. “I have to get the turtle cakes with the whipped filling!” She exclaimed.

“What the hell are you talking about!?” Alexander found a heavy agitation as usual. 

“It’ll close soon! Look at the time!” She said, pointing to the clock; it was eight. She threw herself up and out of bed, soon stumbling into him. “I want them. They were cute. I spent all day-waiting-after-Bea-be-b…” she fell back asleep, sliding down him. He caught her before she got too low and got her onto the bed with a throw. 

You're throwing yourself at me now. If I find out you did this to Drake... Alexander already got the explanation from Drake. He knew what had happened. He pushed those thoughts away for a moment and back to the sudden outburst. 

“She doesn’t seem that upset by it, or she’s hysterical.” Alexander crossed his arms over his chest. He heard the door open again. 

“Is she awake?” Edgar asked.

“She was," he looked away from her, "then she tried to get up like a maniac.” What was she even asking about? A treat? 

Edgar sighed, "go to the room with Drake. For now, I’ll tend to her.”

Alexander nodded but stopped standing over Edgar. Even at his human height, he was taller.

Edgar spoke first, "you know the rules, Alexander.” He faced Lynette's bed. “I won’t give special treatment to anyone.” 

…

Lynette

I groaned, pushing myself up, and immediately saw Edgar in the corner of the room. His hair was still in a messy bun from work though he had changed from his uniform and wore more refined clothing. 

“Hello, dear. How are you feeling?” He asked. 

I saw him place down the book he was reading and smile at me from his seat.

“Uh-fi-fine. How about you?”

He chuckled earnestly, “well, I enjoy making pizzas, as you know. And this festival gave me ample time to catch up with a few friends.” He sighed, putting his book behind him as he got up. “Did you enjoy yourself thus far?”

I felt like I hadn’t seen much. Or I was far too overwhelmed to realize what I had seen. But I realized with the look on Edgar's face small talk wasn't what he wanted this time. “Y-yeah. It’s been busy.” I replied.

He approached carefully, almost calming with his movements. He was a reasonable distance away from my bed and me.

“The others are in the next room over. I’ll call them after you answer one thing for me, dear.” His tone shifted to a cruel demand for answers, “Did Drake bite you without your consent?” 

I froze. 

“I-” I didn’t even realize Drake was going to attack me. I scanned over his Dad’s gaze, unbreaking, trying to yank my answer out. What should I say? Will he get fired? Out of everyone besides Viola, Drake is the only one who isn’t even that bad. My body reminded me of the switch that flicked with him. He went from innocent and unassuming to biting me.

“N-not entire consent-” I replied weakly.

He narrowed harder, “yes or no.”

He only showed much interest in it if I said something, right? I asked myself, the car ride or when I pushed him about energy-related questions. Then it was an accident, right? “I asked him what I could do to help him, and I didn’t really get a reply." I thought I heard him mutter something, but it was overtaken by his grab. "It was more of an action, but if he needed it, it-I-it’s-it was okay.” I shakily concluded. 

Edgar stared down. It felt like he pushed me into the mattress with it. He then closed his eyes, loudly groaned, and rubbed his temples. “If you tell me you consented, you aren't escaping punishment. Do you understand?"

“Punished, how?” I asked. 

“In your contract, punishment clause,” he tapped his chest, “as long as you are not breaking the legally binding rules, but a rule set during certain events, I may punish you with a severity that I feel fit.” He looked at me again, “so what will it be?”

Would he dock my pay? He’s a vampire beast too. Would he drink my blood? I took a second longer to think. What’s the worst he’ll do to me? What if he makes me become a giver for everyone else. My mouth refused to open. I couldn't tell what he was thinking either. His eyes though a similar red hue to Drake's, Edgar's held a more potent force.

I yelped out, “I agreed.” I faced away as if he might hit me. 

A sigh escaped, "I warned you, dear, you cannot use your days off to avoid it unless you'd like to forfeit our end-of-the-year deal." 

I looked at him as he walked toward the door. He left, going to grab the other two. 

What did I do? I can't lose the deal now, or the whole month's ordeal was for nothing! I exclaimed. 

It took a little while for the other two to enter. Edgar made us all stand in a line before him.

Drake couldn't look at me out of what I assumed was guilt. 

Edgar looked over each of us, “I remember explicitly saying that the festival days would be off limits to attacking each other." He gestured with two fingers to Alexander and Drake. "There were plenty of givers for the two of you, and-” He pointed at me. “If you willingly give yourself up to employees, do not do it when I say you shouldn't.” 

Drake looked over at me with surprise, and so did Alexander. I was between them, so I could feel their eyes on me.

Edgar's already fuming expression soured harder when he looked at Drake. 

He pointed at Alexander and me but didn't look away from him. 

“For your punishments, you two will be working the morning shift and your regular shifts for the next week, unpaid.” 

WHAT?! I said in my head. Can he-of course he can!

“And Drake, you are doing it for two weeks, no exceptions,” Edgar said. “You two can have a moment’s rest for tomorrow, only your normal shift, but Drake, you are starting TOMORROW.”

We all slumped our shoulders and accepted it. 

…

“I’m going out.” Alexander said as he got to the door rim, “STAY HERE," he ordered me, "AND DRAKE. I SWEAR TO GOD-”

“I know…” Drake muttered as he left. It was quiet between us at first. “You didn’t have to lie.” He sighed, “I knew the rules. I should have got fired.”

I rubbed my shoulders, “yeah." I didn't know what to say. "You're not like them with me, so I felt bad if you'd get fired compared to some of the stuff they do and say." 

Drake shook his head, "I'm no better, Lynette."

"You haven't met Lev," I said, trying to smile. Or Alexander. I didn't say his name aloud. "Just don’t do it again….” 

He smiled back, a slight hesitation, “I won’t.”

Thinking of Alexander made the bets pop into my head, and a thought popped into my head to break our silence. 

 “As payback, I want you to answer some questions about the others.”

"What kind of questions?" Drake brushed some of his hair over his eyes again. 

“What monster is everyone on the morning crew?" I then whimpered, "and Lev's dragon type...”

He ran my question through his head again before answering. “June’s a slime" he held up one finger and counted them. "Beatrice is an Insect Beast Variation, Elliot is a Werewolf, Zane is the same as Zilla, a mixed Naga Mimic, uh-and Tila is a fairy. I don't know about Lev.” 

Werewolf? That’s a classic monster I can understand…not that Drake follows traditional vampire rules, he walks in the sunlight, and I’ve seen him in a mirror. I thought. 

I gave a thumbs up, then typed it on the uncracked phone on the nightstand. "Thanks."

“Why?”

“A dumb bet I made with Claudia. I’m afraid if I lose again, she’ll make me-tiny.” I muttered. 

I didn’t want to imagine Alexander eating me like that again or Lev getting a hold of me. Then my eyes went to Drake. His insides weren’t pleasant either. I woke up inside him the first time I was small. 

“Oh…” He bowed his head, “is there anything else I can do to apologize. I don't care what it is."

"That's okay, I'm fine." I teetered forward on the bed. “as I said before, just don’t do it again." It's not nearly as bad as them, but I don't want to be paralyzed again. What if I never get out of it?

He nodded along, “I can tell. I mean-” His smile wavered, “I'll stick to animal blood."

After another moment of silence, he got up, saying he had to pack. I decided to do the same after walking him out. 

I checked over my messages, seeing a text from Viola about giving me the gifts I had left with her. 

"I need to get that," I whispered aloud, ensuring room in my duffle bag. 

I heard the room door and peeked out of the room. It was Alexander holding a white takeout bag. 

He held it up. "Here."

I looked over at it skeptically, “what is it?”

He growled, and he opened it up. Inside I could see the cute turtles with whipped cream filling.

“THE CUTE TURTLES!” I exclaimed. My hands went to scoop up the bag, but I stopped and squinted at him. “What's the occasion?”

He stuffed his hand in the bag and grabbed one. He walked past me, putting it by his lips, “fine, I’ll have them.” He made sure I could see him.

"NO! Wait!” I touched his arm, feeling the toughness of his biceps. 

I let go immediately, realizing I had touched him. And because of the hungry look he gave me. He dropped the one he picked up back in the bag, then tossed it over to me.

"Then take 'em, shrimp."

I held the bag eyeing it. Then back up to Alexander, who started to pack. Is this because I didn't sell out, Drake? 

"Xander, why the sudden kindness?"

I heard a loud exhale, and he glanced back, "because tomorrow, our deal starts again, and I want you to be worthwhile energy-wise by then." 

I looked at the little turtle pastries and lifted one up sadly. Of course, why would I assume that weirdo would be friendly to me.

...

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry, not sorry. Lol).

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Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#vore story #vore writing #widfali #soft vore #slight blood #safe vore story #v.0re #v.ore #v/ore #v/0re #sfw vore

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch Rankings: PINOFs

I can’t bring myself say goodbye to this project quite yet, so this week I’m going to post my personal rankings for some of the DNP video “series.” I’d love to see other’s rankings as well!

Obviously I have to start with the PINOFs, so from my least to most favorite:

10. Phil is not on fire 5

This is just the least memorable of them for me. It’s not bad, but I always thought it felt a bit off for some reason. And now we know that this was actually the second version of PINOF 5 that they filmed, so maybe that’s why!

9. Phil is not on fire 3

Again, this one just isn’t as memorable for me overall, although on rewatch there are some great bits. Is it partially the bad haircuts? Maybe it’s partially the bad hair cuts, lol.

8. Phil is not on fire 4

This might be a bit controversial because I know PINOF4 is a lot of people’s least favorite. I like it though! There are some great bits and Phil especially just seems so fond throughout the entire video.

6. Phil is not on fire 7

This ended up lower than I expected it to. These middle ones are so close for me; I keep swapping them around in my head. I love the “ladders” song and the trust fall bit, but other parts aren’t as memorable or funny to me, I guess. Dan is so so smiley throughout it though.

7. Phil is not on fire 10

The final PINOF! There are some bits in this one that I love and some that are just “meh” for me, so it ends up here. The first selfie recreation part alone pushed this one up a bit though.

5. Phil is not on fire 2

The early-on-ness and (likely) less planned nature of this one pushes it up in the rankings for me. They’re really just trying to make each other laugh the whole time and I love it.

4. Phil is not on fire 6

The joint content at the end of 2014 and into early 2015 was such a return to comfortable-ness and easy amusement, and PINOF6 really epitomizes that, after a bit of a dip for 3, 4, and 5 (in my opinion). Also some of Phil’s faces are great in this one, and the sweater-sharing and clothes swap bits are amazing. So it has to be up here for me.

3. Phil is not on fire 8

I love this one! Every question/bit is great. They just seemed really “on” for this one and the rapid-fire bouncing off what the other has said is some of the best in any of them.

2. phil is not on fire

I mean, the original has to be up here for me. This video is such a classic and was really the start of everything. Plus, I’m amazed at how comfortable DNP are with each other and how well they work together on camera after having just met in person. No wonder they love working together still. 

1. Phil is not on fire 9

My run-away favorite! The jump scares. The cheese costume. The random “idiot sandwich" bit. The Phil Ribena flip. And just so much ‘chewing ice’ staring. 🥺 I love it so much.

#dan and phil #dnp #dnpRewatch #dnpRewatch rankings #pinof

[shoshiwrites]

while spring is making promises outside — a flower shop AU featuring my OC Jo. Chapter 4/9. Some chapters a little NSFW.

His phone buzzes.

There's a little leap in his chest, of dread or anticipation, before he can see who it is and his body knows what to do.

did you do the pages today?

Relief. He can't pretend about it. He stabs out a thumbs-up emoji with his thumb, as is their routine, movement unrefined with the drowsiness of an afternoon nap. Or a crash, depending on what you wanted to call it. He never naps, unless his body schedules it for him. Which it occasionally does. Math problems will do that to you, she'd say. The margins of GED Prep Plus are tangled with pencil lines. U?

The three dots bounce, only for a moment. day 11

The little smiley face, the one with the noisemaker — that one seems appropriate. I'm proud of you, he wants to say, feels the faint press of the consonants in his mouth. But they never get that far. She'd taken the Nicorette, though. He falls back asleep thinking about the flowers she'd been sketching yesterday on a scrap of kraft paper, the white pencil in her hands.

Most of the time, his phone isn't Jo. It's Bill or Allie or someone wanting a reduced quote for a piece he's already generously discounted, given that he's not making a whole lot of money off of this, a guy who polishes up old shit in his garage for fun.

It was supposed to be fun, at least.

He doesn't know whether to laugh about it, that the statement could theoretically apply to furniture or to Allie. His ex-girlfriend, a label that itches with how terribly it fits.

What are they?

He wants them to be exes. Exes would be so much easier than whatever this mess is, this thing that has them broken up but still texting him whenever she feels like it. This thing that means she can call him over at any hour and he just goes, wanting whatever it is they have over being alone. The sex, mostly, which is an acknowledgement that feels about as comfortable as a cavity. It's...it's not even that good, for him, most of the time, but if she ever notices she doesn't say anything.

Someone should confiscate his phone, at some point.

Today at the shop he'd caught Jo singing to herself along with the radio. She'd looked swallowed by the giant old sweater she'd been wearing the color of milky coffee, bopping along to Paula Abdul. Her dark curls had fallen from her shoulder as she turned. The kind of shit that only happened in movies. It was like he'd blinked and here he was, hopeless or close to it. Bill had taken a special delight in telling him, pacing around the garage while Joe worked and drinking Joe's beer. That he was a goner, that Jo was the kind of girl you didn't fool around with. 

"You're full of it," Joe had said, brain fizzing on the words fool around and immediately forgetting what it was he was doing with the dresser's hardware. "Bill Guarnere telling me what's what about fooling around. Weren't you still-"

Bill had scoffed. "Listen, I'm done with that shit now." And the craziest part was, Joe knew he was right. He and Fran are saving for a goddamn house together. She's about to have a baby. "Josephine's not the kind of girl you fool around with," Bill repeated, the same kind of tone he used when he talked about his sisters or Frankie or Clara. The kind of person who checked up on you. Who cared. Like Bill, but less annoying. Joe opened the ancient fridge for a soda and saw that it was nearly empty.

"Hey, I'll buy you some my next run," Bill said, conveniently forgetting he was the one who'd emptied it in the first place. "Don't look so burnt up."

"I kind of hate you right now," said Joe. 

"But you know I'm right."

Her eyes, he never forgets, are that warm light brown, that color that makes him ache. 

Tonight, though, he's woken up on the old couch feeling lost in the evening, and cold. There's a few snowflakes swirling outside in the hazy purple of the streetlight against the sky. Spring needs to get with the program too. He's sick of this weather. He wants a cigarette. His phone buzzes.

"I don't see what you're so worked up about," Allie says, stretching herself across the mattress. She looks blissed out of her mind (you're welcome, he thinks pointedly), rolling over to tap the ash off the end of her cigarette. Of course she's smoking. Of course she doesn't care. Somehow it bothers him more that she's noticed the tension in his face. That must mean it's bad.

Even if he does tell her, about the doubt creeping in, about the fact that he hasn't talked to his sisters in weeks, his brother or his ma even longer, he can't very well tell her about Jo. He should tell his family at least, that he's working on his degree. He can hearing something like a scoff coming from Ma, something about it never being too late to finish what you've started, some rambling story about when he'd dropped out that would sound like a scold and a eulogy at once. But he knows she'd be proud, deep down.

He humphs something that sounds like a dismissal, and she's back to the face he knows, the one that's already moved on.

"You're coming to my friend's show," she says. Her voice is a little hoarse, from the smoke, from the fact that in his attempt to forget whatever had been going on earlier he'd been...more generous than usual. Hoarse and on the quieter side, but it's so loud in that moment, the way he knows it's never a question with her, and won't ever be.

He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing at his face with his palm, like that will make the cigarette smell go away. "Gotta work." He doesn't know if he has to, actually, but he'll figure something out.

Allie rolls her eyes, but she starts tapping her fingertips against his hip. Her straw-brown hair brushes against his shoulder. There's a tug inside of him that feels like something important, but then it's gone.

#while spring is making promises outside #jo's tag #shoshi writes #my sick obsession with commas continues #this one is...nsfw adjacent #shoshi's au problem

[softboydrew]

the blind date

listen to this tension filled song while reading

The end of August is always the time where y/n desperately tries to hold onto her last moments of freedom before going back to the east coast.

Sometimes she doesn't understand why she decided to stay in the city, most of her friends attend school in the west coast and she always regrets deciding to stay in her comfort zone. Especially when she has to say goodbye.

So, when y/n receives a text from her friend, Samantha telling her that they were going to meet her boyfriend and his best friend, y/n excitedly replied with a bunch of smiley faces after receiving the details. Of course, she never had a clue on who she would be meeting, or what her friends intention of lunch would actually be.

As y/n climbed out of the Uber and stretched her shoulders against her sweater blouse, deeply regretting her style choice as she revived a text from Samantha, the ding making her stop in her tracks.

sam🍄: running late, I think they're already at the table!

Y/n groaned, hating that she'd meet two people she didn't even know, without her bubbly best friend at her side. She huffed and yanked on the restaurant door before peering into the dining room, the air conditioning instantly calming her nerves.

"I think my party is already here, Maybe under the name, Samantha?" y/n said to the host who glanced at the reservation book.

"Yes! I just sat someone from your party. You can follow me, miss." the host said cheerfully making y/n smile and follow in the younger girl's tracks. "Enjoy!"

Y/n pressed her lips together as she noticed that only one person sat at the table, his back facing her as she thanked the host.

She cleared her throat as she grabbed for her chair, catching the man's eye causing him to peer up at her and instantly stand.

"Hi, you must be y/n." he said, extending his hand out for her to shake.

"Hello." she gave him a tight lipped smile before sliding down into her chair. "I guess we beat them to it!" she chuckled dryly.

The man scratched the back of his neck and chuckled, looking around the restaurant before nodding towards y/n. "I don't know why they're not here yet, it's not like there's any traffic." he said. Umm.. I'm Drew by the way."

Y/n smiled, her eyebrows raising as she looked at her phone screen to see if Samantha had texted her. "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."

y/n: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT TELL ME AN ACTOR WAS COMING TO LUNCH?!?!?! ALSO WHERE TF ARE YOU????

"I just texted Sam to see where she is." y/n said trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down even though a literal actor was sat in front of her, an actor, who she'd yell at through the screen as she watched him portray an antagonist.

She tried to hold in a laugh as she remembers cursing at him on multiple occasions, throwing her popcorn at the screen and groaning loudly at his actions that unfolded through the show. "Asshole!" was a common name she'd call him, for obvious reasons.

Drew nods as he reached for his drink as his phone starts to buzz against his jean pocket. He shuffled around in his seat as he digs around for it, showing y/n the screen to reveal that it's his best friend that was supposed to meet them.

Y/n sat there awkwardly, twiddling her thumbs as she watched him answer the call, she watched his face deadpan into a grimace, his eyes widening as she heard laughing on the other end. "What the fu-" Drew grumbled before his best friend suddenly hung up and left Drew holding out his phone in complete shock.

"What?"

"They're not coming." Drew clears his throat.

Y/n furrows her brows, shaking her head as she looked around trying to see if they're on some pranked reality tv show. "What do you mean, they're not coming?" she questions, annoyance dripping from her words causing Drew to glare at her slightly.

"They set us up. That's what I mean."

Y/n scoffs, folding her arms across her chest as she shakes her head at him, knowing that her best friend would never do this to her.

Samantha would never- well... maybe she would. No, of course she would do this to y/n! Samantha knows how utterly, embarrassingly single y/n has always been, and what better way to humiliate her.

y/n: you BETTER call me NOWWW and make up an excuse for me to leave!!!!!!!

y/n: SAMANTHA YOU FUCKER

y/n: I HATE YOU THIS IS SO AWKWARD😭😭😭😭

Before Drew and y/n could even decide on their next moves, the waiter approached the table, notepad in hand, asking the pair If they'd like to order.

Their eyes meet and they both huff out, shrugging as Drew lifts his hand top from the table.

"I mean.. I don't know about you but I'm starving."

"I guess I could eat.." y/n shrugs, holding up her menu. "I'll have two spicy shrimp rolls with spicy mayo." she says to the server. "Thanks."

"Hmm, make that four." Drew says before looking at y/n, "Do you mind?"

She hums and shakes her head no while making him smile and hand his menu to the waiter before they walk away after taking y/n's.

Drew leans back into his chair, running his palms against his thighs as he studies y/n. He notices her heart shaped lips, and her hair that is perfectly tucked into a ponytail.

He can't help but notice her manicured nails as she twiddles her thumbs, noticing how her eyes scan the restaurant, and how quiet she is as she just sits there, almost like she's waiting for him initiate the conversation.

"Aren't you hot in that?" Drew finally asks.

Y/n blushes, resting her chin on her wrist as she glances at him from across the table. She bites her tongue from snapping at him for a reason unknown to her.

Maybe he seem's a little too cocky, and maybe its because he's an actor, so why is he even still sitting here with her? she thinks.

"No."

Drew nods, tapping his foot under the table as he sighs, watching as she shifts in her seat awkwardly. "Soooo..."

"Soo."

He clears his throat and bites the inside of his cheek, before reaching for the pen that's in his jacket pocket. "Wanna play a game?"

Her ears perk at his question as she nods questionably while she watches him pull out the pen and slide one of the napkins in front of him. "We each write something on our napkins that describe us." she suggests.

Y/n gives him a funny glance but nods as he smiles at her, his playfulness making her eyes gleam as she watches him cover his napkin from her view. They both laugh lightly as he gives her small glances trying to shield his writing from her.

"Okay, my turn!" y/n says happily as Drew hands her the pen before he folds his napkin so she can't see what he's jotted down.

Time passes between the two like a blink of an eye, y/n and Drew coming to the realization that maybe they don't mind each others company.

Maybe Drew's jokes make y/n's heart flutter a little too much, and y/n's smile make Drew's cheeks turn a deep pink without him even trying to hide it.

They talk and talk for what seams like hours as they eat their sushi rolls, inevitability ordering seconds and thirds, with dessert following behind.

Their little game had been long forgotten because of easy conversation and a little competition of who can eat the most sushi rolls without taking a break or drinking water.

"Well, this is the best blind date I've ever been on." Drew says as he pulls out y/n's chair.

"This was the first one I've been on so obviously I'm impressed." she responds making him bump his shoulder against hers playfully, causing them both to laugh loudly as they make their way out of the restaurant.

"Hey! we forgot about the game!" Drew suddenly says making y/n turn to look up at him.

"How about we look at them when we go our separate ways... and if I like what you wrote, maybe I'll challenge you to how many ice cream scoops you can eat without getting brain freeze."

Drew lets out a laugh causing y/n to blush, "Deal!" he said handing her his napkin. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised." he says quietly.

"I wouldn't doubt it. I've been pleasantly surprised this whole time." y/n blushes.

Drew sucks in a breath, leaning towards y/n and smiling at their substantial height difference. He feels y/n's cheeks flush as he presses his lips against her soft skin and lets them linger for a second too long causing y/n's eyes to flutter closed.

"Until text time then. Hopefully." he whispers before backing away.

"We shall see." y/n teases before hugging him goodbye.

Y/n watched Drew walk down the street, his hands in his pockets as he strides further away from her. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the napkin and opens it, her lips lifting into a sweet smile as she reads what he's written down.

She sighs knowing that she's already got it bad, she admires his handwriting and his personality in his writing even more.

"I love rainy days with a blanket and a cup of tea and a book"

-

a/n: reposts, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated xx

a/n: I AM SO BAD AT MY TAGLIST SORRYYY!!

taglist: @pogueslandia @carolineworld @estrellarimar @jemimah-b99 @thinkofmehlgh @drewstrkeys @hoellandstarkeytch @drewcito

#drew starkey insta post #drew starkey concept #drew x reader #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron blurbs #rafe cameron imagines #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #obx concept #obx spoilers #obx blurb #obx moodboard #obx imagine #outer banks #obx

[quillquiver]

white elephant

destiel fluffy xmas proposal fic! haven’t posted anything in ages but am working on a couple things, so hopefully you’ll be seeing more of me in the new year :D

They’re on their second round of white elephant when Sam finally chooses Dean’s gift. He’s been manipulating the choices all evening; everyone’s always shifty when they play this, so it wasn’t too hard; a wide-eyed look here, seemingly cut-off exclamation there, and Sammy’s tearing through twelve layers of wrapping paper until the clippers and scissors come into view.

“Seriously, Dean?” He gives a half-hearted glare and pushes the mountain of wrapping paper aside.

Dean grins. “Figured Eileen’d need to shear you in the spring.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“I’m just happy you picked it. Woulda been real sad if you chose the wrong one with only two left.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sam mumbles. He isn’t pushing back as hard as Dean expected, but Dean has been ragging on the hair since Sam was a teenager. “Okay, open the last one.”

Dean snorts. “Uh, no.”

“What d'you mean, no? Dude, it’s the last one! You gotta take it!”

Dean shakes his head. “Nope, see, I got my eye on that bag of sick dice Charlie’s been pretending she’s not holding.”

“Steal limit's up, handmaiden." Charlie smiles sweetly. “But don’t worry, you can come to my place and look at ‘em any time you like.”

“Cute. But Eileen from Benny, you from Eileen is two, genius. So I’ll be takin’ my dice, please.”

“Dean, come on, I really like these.”

“And you can come to my place and look at ‘em any time you like,” Dean grins.

“Seriously? It’s Christmas!”

“Brother, just let ‘er keep ‘em,” Benny says.

“Yeah, you don’t know what’s in the other gift,” Eileen reasons.

Cas nods. “It could be something even better."

“Or it could be my brother trying to get back at me.” Dean narrows his eyes. “I know it’s not cool dice.”

“Dude, how would I get back at you for something I didn’t even know you did?” Sam asks. "I wouldn’t have opened the clippers if I knew."

“Besides, Ken Doll, Queen of the Nerds already called dibs,” Meg says.

“And don’t you already have a large and useless collection of dice?” Balthazar asks.

Dean makes a face. “So does she!”

Jo rolls her eyes. “Dean, seriously, stop being a baby."

Across the circle, Crowley sighs. “It seems you’ve been out-voted, Squirrel.”

“Fuck all of you, seriously, since when is this game a vote?” He grabs the tiny package and starts tearing into it, muttering profanity when the tape sticks. The black velvet box is small and Dean has his money on some kind of piercing-related gag gift until he opens the thing. “What the hell is this? The fuck am I supposed to do with an empty—"

But when he looks up, everyone is grinning at him like they’re insane.

“What?”

And then he sees Cas.

Cas beside him. On one knee. Kneeling beside him. Cas on one knee right beside him.

Holding a ring.

It takes a second for Dean to actually understand what’s happening, and by then Cas is saying shit like, I know we’re not big on public displays of affection and, we got together during one of Charlie’s game nights so I thought this an apt setting, and then, I’ve got something written out for you when we’re alone but the gist of it is:

Dean, will you marry me?

Dean kisses him. Or—he tries to kiss him. He turns and launches himself at Cas with the intention of kissing the crap out of him, but they both go sprawling and they’re too smiley to kiss, anyway. Despite the fact that Dean’s a sure thing, Cas is sweating so hard through his gaudy Christmas sweater he’s giving off heat. Huffing a laugh, he noses along Cas’s jaw until he manages to reach his ear, and despite all the noise and all the yelling the entire world narrows to Dean’s fuck yeah and the smiley half-kisses that follow.

Thing wrap up not long after, and soon enough Dean is lazily digging through his bedside table drawer, sweaty and sated as Cas looks at him quizzically from across the pillow. “Dean, are you—?”

Swallowing thickly, Dean produces his own little velvet box and places it on the bed between them. Hi voice shakes when he talks: “Kinda pissed you did it first,” he says.

Cas’s eyes soften despite his widening smile. “It was clever, though.”

“Yeah yeah… so what d’you say?”

“To marrying you?”

“Yeah, genius, to marrying me.”

Gingerly, Castiel takes the ring from the box and slips it onto his ring finger. He extends his arm in front of him. Shrugs. “…Do you think Charlie would be willing to trade? I really wanted those dice.”

Dean tackles him. Cas yelps. It doesn’t really matter who kisses whom, only that they end the night spooned, rings clinking together as their fingers tangle. “Love you,” Cas mumbles, nosing at the back of Dean’s neck.

Dean squeezes their hands.

#destiel fic #fluff #white elephant #xmas #christmas #marriage proposal #proposal fic #adventures in fanfic

[sappynapper]

Looking after you on your period hcs

ccs included: Dream, Sapnap, George, Karl

cw: romantic, afab reader, cramps, painkillers, food in dream’s and karl’s

Dream:

will do extensive research so he can help

“babe it says here that exercise helps with cramps so maybe you should come to the gym with me later- no?”

orders you lots of food he thinks will help even if you say you’re not hungry

“i made you camomile tea and cut up some fruit. you need to stay hydrated and also i read that there’s nutrients in bananas which- oh were you sleeping?”

“i got us dinner from wagamama! apparently brown rice is good for bloating and the chicken and spinach will help replace the iron you’re losing :]”

won’t stop until you smile

he just wants to make it better for you, he hates feeling useless :((

Sapnap:

secretly likes when it’s your time of the month bc all you wanna do is stay in bed and cuddle and he’s not complaining

rubs your tummy while you’re cuddling too

you mentioned once that heat helps with the cramps so he’s always offering to make you up a hot water bottle or run you a bath

jokes about being mad at the cramps for hurting you bc it makes you giggle

protective sapnap 🧎

“you want me to beat them up for you, sugar?” “i’m not sure that would help but i’ll keep it in mind” “just let me know 😤”

George:

gives you space mostly

((he doesn’t like it when you’re grumpy with him so he tries to stay out of the way))

will come into the bedroom and just leave painkillers and a glass of water on the side without saying anything like 🧍‍♂️

he makes sure all your errands are taken care of though so you don’t have to worry about it

you wake up from a nap to the whole apartment having been cleaned and the cupboards stocked up with groceries

and george just sitting on the sofa watching tv acting like it’s nbd but he can’t help but be all smiley when you pepper his face with thank you kisses

Karl:

sad when you’re in pain :(

tries to distract you and get you to laugh by being extra goofy

when it’s really bad he breaks out the big guns aka building a blanket fort, getting you a bunch of chocolate (bc his mama said it would help), and sticking on your favourite comfort movie

also gives you his sweater to wear bc he knows it makes you feel better

overall just very clingy and soft w you until it’s over

he’s a sweetheart ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

#dream x reader #mcyt x reader #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #georgenotfound x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n

[1kook]

ZOOM CALL

⇢ meeting one

jeon jungkook x (f) reader

⇢ series masterlist

summary: In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window. genre: fluff, slice of life, smut (tags tba) warnings: jk is a ditzy lil nerdy sweetheart, college crushes, social distancing -_-, use of the zoom app, 1kook Builds a Healthy Relationship (Version 2.0) ratings: M (18+) wc: 3.2k

notes: well. here we are. as always i have to thank common sense (coincidentally named rumu @kigurumu​ ) for reading this over and pointing out little details <3 after much deliberation, i have decided to post our beloved zoom jk (see origin story here) in the form of short ‘drabbles’ depicting diff zoom calls with this being The Beginning™️ so please... bare with me </3 ty to all the nice ppl who have been excited for this, luv u very much 🥺

There are times in human history where words captivate their audience; times when single words or phrases wrap around the listener, melt into their bones and radiate warmth from within. But rarely does one word manage such an impact, rarely is it as revered and as cherished as the word cancelled is to most college students. 

Class is cancelled, group meetings are cancelled, the stupidly big semester final project was cancelled. You could cancel nearly anything, and in most cases, it would be beautiful. Cancelled meant more time to sleep in the morning, an afternoon free of pesky project partners, a pleasant reprieve from having to socialize with anyone. It was a glorious word with heavenly connotations that brought tears of joy to your eyes whenever you saw it appear in an email preview.

Except this one.

Spring Semester 2021: On-Campus Classes CANCELLED — Social Distance Measures as per State Regula…

Your last semester as a student in university… online? You couldn’t believe it. All these years of studying rigorously, cramming for exams, attaining a near perfect GPA— just to sit in your bedroom and stare at your computer screen for the last 15 weeks of classes? Had your friends not been there to mope with you, you’re certain a part of you would have gone on a rampage and cursed every bacteria known to mankind for doing this to you.

It was your last year, you whined in private (never in public; your friends had always considered you the mature one, the studious friend who kept everyone in order), yet here you were, setting up your desk for your last ever first day of classes with quite possibly the biggest pout on your face.

Zoom, your school had raved in an email a few weeks into the break, the desktop application that will keep us united in these trying times! As if, you huffed, giving the stupid application permission to connect to your computer’s camera and audio systems. What even was proper Zoom etiquette? Did you have to enter the meeting and greet every student cheerfully? You had always said hi to your classmates before, but something about saying it over a computer mic felt awkward.

The feeling doubled when you finally entered the meeting, only to be met with a sea of black screens save for your professor, who seemed to be clicking around his computer in a rather confused fashion. This was going to suck, you thought bitterly.

You had entered the room ten minutes earlier because, well, you always showed up to class a few minutes earlier than the scheduled meeting time. But was there any point to doing that here? Usually, the time before class was spent making small talk with said classmates, discussing the readings or the assignments, talking mindlessly about whatever came to mind. But something in your gut said it would be weird to do that now.

So you sit in silence for the next ten minutes, nervously tapping your pen against your desk as you wait for the professor to launch into whatever introductory monologue he had planned. You toy with your phone, scrolling through your twitter feed only to see a brigade of tweets from students all over the nation suffering the same fate as you. It was a trending topic.

Two minutes before the class starts, you hear the tell-tale ping of someone entering the meeting. You wave it off just like you have your other 41 classmates thus far, but then there’s the clearing of a throat, and a sweet, “good morning” filtering through your speakers. Lifting your head from the hunched over position you had assumed while glancing at your phone, you’re startled by the sudden handsome face that appears before you.

In a sea of black screens and faceless names, there’s one smiley boy that beams back at you through the dimly lit screen of your laptop, a tiny Jeon Jungkook (he/him) tacked to the corner of his window.

He’s nothing short of a dreamboat, soft and doughy cheeks that catch the hue of the screen light, highlighting his cheekbones in a faint blue color. Imploring doe eyes blinking widely at the screen as he clicks around, narrating his confusion in a low mumble (mic still on, how cute). Dark hair— was it brown? black? the pixelated screen made it hard to tell —messily pushed away from his face.

And his voice, oh his voice. It matches his gentle appearance perfectly. A soft snort. “Am I the only one here?” he says, thin lips pulled to the side in a bashful grin.

The professor laughs with him. “No, but you are the only one with your camera on,” he responds.

You’re not sure if it’s the professor’s teasing jab at literally everyone else or the need to support the cutie who smiles softly at screen, but suddenly, a handful of windows come to life. Your classmates fill up the screen, dressed in an array of styles with bedrooms (and, on the rare occasion, dorm rooms) to match. You nibble at your bottom lip, finger hovering over the button that will expose your appearance to the rest of your classmates

Eventually, the wordless peer pressure, the need to be a good student, and the supportive face of Jeon Jungkook (he/him) have you inhaling sharply before dutifully clicking the camera on. Your face appears on screen, nearly lost in the now overwhelming sea of faces. You’re one of the last ones to turn your camera on, both pages of your zoom meeting participant windows filled with the contrasting images of your classmates joining from their bedrooms. The professor claps in delight, and finally dives into the mandatory first day of classes spiel.

Syllabuses, group work, asynchronous lectures. You’ve heard these words all before, have practically memorized this class’s syllabus like the back of your hand. The pros of being an overachiever. The cons are, however, that you think every question your classmates ask is stupid. Read the syllabus, you want to scream. But it’s the first day of class. You don’t even know who your assigned study group partners (as mentioned in the syllabus) are and you certainly don’t want them to dislike you so soon. They can do that after the third meeting, but not today.

You’re not entirely surprised when your attention drifts away from the professor and the endless sea of stupid questions he’s left to answer. Even when you realize you’ve stopped paying attention, you don’t bother forcing yourself to tune back in. No, instead your focus drifts across the windows of faces.

Some of your classmates are as bored as you, glaring at the screen with disinterest, or glancing off to the side probably at their phones. So you start looking at their rooms, analyzing their decorations and posters as if you’re a professional critic on some house design show.

Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in a rather plain dorm room. Plain light gray walls— or maybe it’s white —free of decoration. He’s sitting at the provided desk, just like you. The only reason you focus on that is because there’s a multitude of your classmates lazily sprawled across their beds, slumped over a couch. Hardly anyone is sitting at attention like you. Well, except for Jeon Jungkook (he/him). He’s practically exposing the entirety of his living accommodation with the way his camera is set up.

Above eye level, reaching just below his chest, with the room all laid out before you. A neat twin bed, sheets meticulously made. It almost looks like the decorative set at a furniture store with the way the comforter and variety of pillows are placed. He doesn’t seem to be in the crappy dorms you remember, which leaves you wondering where exactly he’s been assigned. You know certain sports clubs get fancier dormitories. Anyway, there’s a door off the side of the bed, a black guitar standing in the corner just behind it. You wonder what’s behind the camera, if maybe his desk is as organized as the rest of his room. Maybe his closet is his weakness, you muse, imagining poor Jeon Jungkook (he/him) with a tornado of a closet. But the thought doesn’t make that much sense, so you discard it quickly.

Anyway, his dorm room. It’s neat and orderly, makes you tilt your head curiously as he swivels from side to side before you. As for himself, he’s dressed in a plain white sweater, hoodie strings perfectly even. His hair has long since fallen over his forehead, but he’s pushed it over this time in a fluffy side part. He was adorably soft.

He’s paying attention to the professor like he genuinely treasures every word that comes off his tongue, nodding along understandingly. He’s even got a pencil in hand, leaning forward every few seconds to scribble something down hurriedly. Not like this is all on the syllabus or anything, you think.

But as soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s dispelled just as fast. He’s only trying to be a good student, you scold yourself, feeling oddly mean for wanting to make fun of this sweet boy. Especially when he raises his hand a second later and asks the first good question of the day. Something about the grading scale for group projects and how much is determined by the group members themselves. You’re not too sure, the words get a little fuzzy when he starts speaking and his pink lips pull down into an endearing pout.

A couple minutes later and your professor finally wraps up the questions, telling everyone to email him if any other questions arise throughout the semester. Just as you’re sighing in relief, he utters those dreaded words: “Ice-breakers!” he exclaims, and the whole class grimaces, much to his amusement. He says something about feeling the excitement through the screen, but then changes gears. “Since it’s a little hard to talk to your neighbor, I’m going to test out the Breakout Rooms and see how that works, okay guys?”

You frown. Breakout Rooms? What on earth was that? Like most of your classmates, this is pretty much your first rodeo with the Zoom application. He was sending you all into small groups, where? The answer presents itself a few seconds later, a message box appearing on your screen.

The host is inviting you to join a Breakout Room: Group 4

Your professor is still chattering in the background when you nervously accept the invitation, his voice suddenly cut off as your computer jumps to a new loading screen. It takes a while before you’re suddenly dumped into a new room. And then you’re staring at your own face, blown up on your own screen in a rather uncomfortable way. Jeez, did you really look like this?

As soon as you get to picking at your appearance, your mirrored reflection jumps to the side, once, then twice more to fit the three new guests in your room. Silence fills your bedroom as you and your classmates all stare at each other nervously for a couple seconds, unsure of what to say. This was, after all, your first meeting.

Just as you’ve gathered all your courage to click your microphone on, the screen jumps around once more and suddenly Jeon Jungkook (he/him) is in your Breakout Room. Immediately, his surprised face melts into the most reassuring grin you’ve ever seen, and he’s practically jumping forward to turn his mic on.

“Good morning, everyone,” he says, smooth and low. It’s like the awkward tension melts away under the pressure of his pretty smile, your classmates responding back with polite hellos and good mornings to him. You barely get yours in before Jeon Jungkook (he/him) starts talking again. “So… how are you guys?”

His words, sweet and caring as they are, send the five of you into a rather mindless conversation. Talking about nothing really, just whatever comes to mind about the class, about the semester, about the remote learning. Then Jungkook— “just Jungkook is fine!” he tells the other four of you with that same too pure look on his face after someone refers to him by his whole name —starts talking about some movie he had seen on Netflix the other day, something his friend recommended to him. Truthfully, you have zero interest in the type of plot he is describing, and you can tell some of the other people in your group don’t either. But he’s absorbed in his storytelling, features lit up as he details every last plot point of the film like his life depends on it. There’s a wordless agreement to let him ramble on.

By the time Jungkook has finished his novella recapture of whatever movie he was talking about, a green message bubble appears at the top of your screen. It’s a message from your professor, who is telling you the small group meeting will end in a few more minutes.

“Aw, that sucks,” Jungkook laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. And then, “oh! We haven’t answered our icebreaker question yet!”

Ah, yes. The reason for this small group was to get to know each other, not for Jungkook to recount an entire two hour movie for you all. “Oh, right,” you agree, probably the first words you’ve said in the past five minutes. You navigate to the chat box, where your professor had hastily dumped the question before sending you all off. “What’s one thing you miss most about being on campus?” you read aloud, glancing back at the screen.

Your group mates are all in various states of blissful comfort, the gaps of their nervousness smoothed over by Jungkook’s bubbly personality, and the hesitation they’d shown at the beginning is practically gone. Someone steps forward and says something about the campus dining hall. Jungkook laughs, loud and airy, claps his hands all cute too. Someone else says the library because it was a good place to study. There’s a lull and you jump in quickly. “I think I’ll miss the couches by the gym in the student center the most,” you confess, though you doubt anyone knows which ones you mean. They were a set of brightly colored couches tucked into a cranny behind the Starbucks just outside the campus gym, avidly avoided by the gym rats who were determined to ignore the sugary drinks and snacks.

Apparently, the hiding spot isn’t as secretive as you thought. “Oh, the ones by the Starbucks?” Jungkook exclaims, excitedly looking at his screen. You have this fluttery feeling that he’s looking at you for the first time. You nod, and he quite positively beams. “I love those!”

“Yeah, I spend a lot of time there,” you say, though it’s a little stilted because you’re not exactly sure how you’re supposed to react to Jungkook’s enthusiasm. Though his outgoing personality cloaks you in comfort, his pretty smile has your heartbeat acting a little funny.

Jungkook’s got these huge eyes, blinking owlishly at you. “Really? So do I!” And then you both seem to have the same realization. His head tilts to the side cutely, an amused smile on his face, “I’ve never seen you there.”

“I’ve never seen you there,” you shoot back, a little snarkier than necessary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. His smile turns goofy.

“Woah,” he says in a rather dreamy tone, “isn’t that so cool? We spent so much time in the same place, but never crossed paths before,” he babbles. He’s stopped looking at his computer, leaning back in a sort of dazed manner with this sparkly look to his eyes, much to everyone’s amusement. Except yours, because frankly, it sounds a little bit like he’s describing— “fate!” he says suddenly, like it’s truly an aha! moment. He pauses, taps his finger against his chin. “Or anti-fate? I’m not sure. But it’s like— we could’ve met so many times before and we didn’t.” Doe eyes return to the screen, flickering around until they presumably land on you again. “What do you think, __?”

And he’s just so cute, makes the rigid shield around your chest soften for the slightest moment as you nod meekly. “Uhh, yeah. Fate,” you agree, and then get to hear him laugh and giggle for about three seconds before you’re suddenly thrown back into the larger Zoom meeting.

Weirdly flustered, you hurriedly click your microphone back off, and nearly contemplate the camera too. But then the professor is asking you all to share what you talked about and you’re resigning yourself to a few more minutes of screen time while the class wraps up. By the looks of it, not everyone had as an enjoyable time as you did. Part of you is thankful you didn’t get stuck in an awkward small group. The other part recognizes wholeheartedly that it’s all thanks to one smiley boy at the bottom of your screen.

“And group 4?” the professor asks, and you blink yourself back into attention. Before you can unmute yourself and answer for your group, Jungkook is beating you to it.

“We talked about a lot of things,” Jungkook answers cheerfully. From your view, you get a front row seat to the sheer power of Jungkook’s magnetic personality, watching as all your listless classmates suddenly snap back from their daydreams to zero in on whatever Jungkook is saying. He fills in the professor about what you talked about, from the movies to the couches, and you feel weirdly mushy when his eyes flicker across the screen before settling with a soft smile.

He can’t possibly be looking at me, you tell yourself. Your hand jerks forward to turn the camera off, but in your haste, end up knocking down the water bottle on your desk. You scramble to straighten it, thanking the universe for the fact you actually remembered to screw on the cap. You glance back at the screen, and nearly die when you catch sight of a giggly Jungkook, smile hidden behind an adorable sweater paw as he laughs at something on screen. Oh no, was he looking at me? you panic.

“Alright, everyone,” your professor says in that “I’m about to wrap this class up” voice. Too close to the screen, voice a little too loud. “Good meeting today, I’ll see you all again on Wednesday. Stay safe.”

“Bye!” Jungkook sings sweetly, and everyone else follows as they all bid adieu to the professor. Still a little frazzled from the possibility that Jungkook may have watched you flail around like a total loser, you take a second longer to turn your mic on. Your classmates quickly leave the meeting, leaving only a few stragglers until the very end.

Surprisingly, Jungkook is here too, brown eyes focused on the screen. You unmute yourself. “Um,” you stammer, eyes unwillingly flickering over to Jungkook who smiles at the sound of your voice. “Goodbye. Thank you,” you rush out, and then quickly leave the meeting as well.

With the meeting over, you’re left staring at the home page of the Zoom app, heart beating a little too fast to be normal. Your face feels warm, and your fingers tremble from some unfamiliar, giddy feeling in your chest. You exhale slowly, hand coming up to rub at your chin as if that will somehow explain the weird excitement from your Zoom meeting. Maybe it was just adrenaline, or nervousness, you try to convince yourself. After all, the first day of classes is always nerve-wracking.

Except when you navigate to your class page and begin to mindlessly scroll through the class roster, there’s a weird stutter to your heartbeat when you catch sight of that Jeon Jungkook (he/him) that appears halfway down the list.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jjk♡ #jjk fic #bts smut #bts fic #mine

[gryffindors-weasley]

For The Very First Time

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius Black just might be more sentimental than you think when he takes you on a trip down memory lane.

Prompt used: “Sorry how do you spell that?”

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: mild angst, smoking, fluff, kissing

A/N: This is for @sweeterthansammy ’s 1k writing challenge! I hope you enjoy. Flash backs are italicized, and the prompt I used is bolded!

The weather was a little bit chillier now that the sun was dipping down in the sky, chilly enough for a sweater or a light jacket. Something you didn’t have much time to think about with the spontaneity of Sirius’ plans and just how urgent he’d been making them out to be. Really, there was no rush and he knew that, of course he knew that, but he was far too eager for his own good and you knew that.

You were certain he’d under dressed when you found him standing by the front door, leaning against the frame in that tattered old jean jacket. The one there’s no chance in him getting rid of, not in a million years. It’s got a myriad of holes here and there in the faded, washed out denim, the cuffs having seen better days as the frayed material dangles down half torn. A miscellaneous pin from James is still on there, even that bright yellow smiley face is stuck on the collar that you’d put there ages ago. It was more than a well worn article of clothing, that much was for sure.

You managed to break away from James and Lily’s conversation, more so Lily, and any other time you wouldn’t have minded a single bit. You absolutely wouldn’t have, but with Sirius calling you from the floor below in the small Potter home, you find yourself having no choice but to give in to saving the conversation for later in favor of quieting the raven haired wizard.

You walk down the stairs until equally tattered converse come into view, then those same old black denim jeans, the those frayed jean jacket cuffs. You smell the distinct smell, something that’d only further been confirmed as you reach the very last step.

“Either I’m a fool, or time just stopped,” he says, flicking the ashes from his cigarette as he smiled down at you.

The corner of your mouth quirks up, the kind of smile he knows isn’t a hundred percent sweet.

“I think you’re just a fool, Pads,” you say, that smile widening a fraction. There it is. He walked right into that one and he knew it, rolling his eyes. “And I don’t think Mr. Potter would approve of you smoking in his beloved family home.”

“Which is exactly why I’m standing outside,” he grins before bringing the cigarette back to his lips, throwing his hands up as he takes one step backwards through the threshold of the doorway just so he can officially say that he is in fact outside and not at all breaking the rules of the residence.

Sirius Black liked to bend the rules when he could, he liked to walk on the wild side just about every chance he got no matter how trivial it may be. He claims it’s the only way to be, claims that’s what having fun is all about and anything less is boring. Nonchalance is simply in his nature.

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” you counter, hopping off the very last step when he tugged on your hand to urge you out the door.

He pulled the door shut behind him and stopped you in your tracks, making you turn on your heel before you could take another step forward. You look up at him with a narrowed gaze and await an explanation as to just why it is he’s gone and stopped you when all he’s done the past ten minutes is tell you how desperately he’d wanted to go. So you stand and your stare and you watch as smoke blows past parted lips, lips that quirk upwards in a smile as he looks at you.

In that moment, he dips down, pressing his lips on yours in a kiss that’s as smoky as ever and the gesture alone has your smile pressing into his kiss. A smile that’s genuine just as much as it’s teasing.

“I thought we had somewhere to be?” You say, breaking away as you look up at him with a raised brow.

“We do,” he says, taking another puff before you snag the cigarette right from between his fingers, dropping it to the little stone walkway before putting it out beneath your boot.

You take notice of his pursed lips that fight a smile, at the squinted gaze he’s got set on you as you spin on your heel and walk ahead, leaving him to stand there and stare after you for a fleeting moment or two. You’ve got all the amusement in the world sitting on your expression and he doesn’t even need to see it to know it, he can tell just by simply hearing the laugh fall from your lips. He can see it as he catches up to you within a second’s time.

“How very rude of you,” he says in faux offense, but it’s not too long before you feel the tips of his fingers brushing against yours.

“How very generous of me,” you counter, and his scoff doesn’t go unheard.

The next time you look up at him, he’s got those sunshine yellow shades on, those obnoxiously yellow sunglasses that sit on his nose seemingly more often than not. James had gotten them for him at the town fair just a few years back, a gift just for laughs that he’d gotten with the rest of his tickets. They were bright and they were bold and very much fitting for the year nineteen-eighty-one, but he’d gone and kept them. Of course he did.

Sirius Black kept every single thing his friends have ever given him no matter how ridiculous or trivial it may have seemed. Even when he was just a child still stuck in his dreaded family home, he’d saved a shoe box from a pair of dress shoes he absolutely hated wearing, one pair of dozens that inevitably got scuffed up just a little too much for the liking of his parents before they’d gone and bought him a new pair to look more presentable for the family image. Aside from that, he’d kept a shoe box, one that he had tucked under his bed.

Inside were all the letters that James and Remus had sent him by owl over summer break, each and every letter even if it was simply James complaining about some nonsensical thing or a joke or if it was Remus writing to see if he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter yet. He kept all of them. He kept the four leaf clover James had stumbled upon, and he kept that special quill Remus had swiped from Snape. He never knew his best friend had a knack for being mischievous until that moment.

He’d read those letters on his best nights and his worst, read them just for so. They were tattered and worn at the creases where they were folded, but he didn’t plan on getting rid of them any time soon.

Over the years that sentimental collection grew and grew, adding to it a myriad of pressed flowers and leaves from Lily, and bookmarks from Remus, postcards from James that were the absolute most ridiculous he could find. You added to it with miscellaneous letters and a guitar pick you thought he might like. He never used it, he didn’t want to ruin it. He kept that feather boa you’d found and even that lucky coin. He kept it all.

Sirius Black was more sentimental than he let on, he’s got a softer heart than he showcased to most, he kept every one of those things no matter how stupid or trivial it may seem to someone else. But he’d never in a million years admit it. James had found it once, but he never said a word about it.

“You never did tell me where we’re going,” you say, kicking a pebble out of your way as you walked along the cracked sidewalk.

“I believe that’s the point of a surprise, love,” he says, and you catch his smile as you look up at him, lips pursed as you nudge him with your elbow.

“You’re terrible at surprises,” you tease, your smile in your voice and had he not been wearing those sunglasses at sunset, you’d have been able to see his eye roll. But you knew him well enough to know he’d gone and done it regardless of the visual confirmation.

“Have I ever told you you’re a pain?” He asked, his chuckle following his words as he grins ahead, glancing down at you briefly.

“Yes, and I take that as a compliment,” you say, hearing his continued laughter as he shakes his head.

You try and put the pieces together, try and pick up any hints to put together any form of information that just might lead you in the direction of where you could possibly be going. It was in town, that you knew for certain. It was somewhere, local otherwise he’d have taken Mr. Potter’s car. The attire was no use in a giveaway because there was not a single chance there’d be an occasion where you’d find Sirius taking you somewhere in which you’d need to dress to the nines. The days of pristine suits and freshly polished shoes were far behind him, he hated dressing up with everything that he had.

He didn’t even dress up above and beyond for James and Lily’s wedding; well, he did, but he dressed down his suit with a half loosened tie that wound up being a headband and that tattered pair of converse. And he even wore those same old yellow sunglasses.

It was early evening, and things don’t tend to stay open for that much longer, so that narrows things down just a little bit more. Makes things just a little bit clearer, but it all proved to be not as helpful as you’d like it to be.

The small town was dotted with street lamps casting the area in a warm glow as it began to get darker and darker outside. The surrounding trees held reddening leaves that dropped and fluttered to the ground when the breeze sifted through them. And it’s only then that it hits you, the smell of coffee and spice that wafts through the air the closer you get. The sweetened air the closer you got. You even heard that familiar little clang of the bell over the door.

It wasn’t until then that you’d realized that maybe this was his surprise, that it absolutely was judging by the way he’d been biting the inside of his cheek to stifle his grin.

“Sirius Black, is this what I think it is?” You ask, your brow raised as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards.

Your question is answered when that smile breaks through, when you do indeed stop in front of the door to that ever familiar coffee shop and he holds the door open for you to step inside. It’s noticeably warmer than the chilly weather outside, cozier than ever as the smell of coffee washes over you. It looked just the same as when you were here last, felt just as inviting as it always did.

There were a few carved pumpkins sitting outside the door, an assortment of fall decorations littering inside the small shop. Each of the little wooden tables have cozy orange table cloths, and string lights are hung. The entirety of the shop smelled like fall festive drinks and what was left of the pumpkin rolls and muffins, not to mention the sweeter than sweet scented candles that were lit.

He tugged on your hand as he stepped up to the counter.

“Can I get a black coffee with two creams and a hot chocolate?” He asks, dropping your hand to dig around for his wallet in the pocket of his jacket.

That was another thing, Mr. Potter had gifted him that very same wallet a handful of years ago. It was a hand-me-down, but that was the least of his concerns when he was given the leather wallet. He didn’t care about the scratches or worn corners. That was the first real gift he’d ever gotten that had true thoughtfulness behind it.

He remembered your order like the back of his hand, and he’d gotten the same thing every single time.

The drinks were ready in no time and he put some money on the counter with a little extra for a tip, handing you yours as he headed towards that ever familiar table tucked away in the corner by the window.

He ran his hand through his hair, sitting those sunglasses back on the top of his head once more to push his hair out of his face. Your smile was fond as you looked at him, a stubborn chunk of black hair dipping over his forehead and brushing against the tip of his nose anyway.

“Remember this place, love?” He asks, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

“As if I’d ever forget,” you say, a laugh leaving your lips.

Of course you did, it was hard to forget the one and only place you’d met Sirius black in a few years back.

It was a hectic afternoon, customer after customer flooding into the coffee shop especially now that the fall season was sweeping in at last. Things were always busy around this time of year, things were always busy around this time of day, so you’d come to expect the rush hour by now after all this time you’ve worked there.

Things were fairly simple once you got the hang of it, once you were able to do things with a practiced ease and it made the line of customers a little bit easier to move along. Most of them you knew by name, most of them you knew their orders because they never failed to get the very same thing each and every day that they came in. Some of them came in every day, some of them came in every week, some of them even had a select day of the week that they stopped in for their usual order.

It was one of the things you liked about working there. The regular customers were friendly as ever and made the workload a little easier given the prior knowledge of just what they get and how they like it, and it makes the time fly just a little bit faster.

The day hadn’t been your finest, you’d gone and spilled half a cup of hot chocolate on your apron, one you didn’t have the time to swap out and you’re quite sure you’d still had a smear of flour on your face from catching up on baking that morning before opening time. But that clumsiness was only in your nature and it was everything you expected from yourself.

“Y/n, can you cover up front? There’s someone waiting.”

That clumsiness only heightened at the sight of a new face, one you don’t believe you’ve seen frequent the shop before. He’s got a mess of black hair he keeps tucking behind his ear, yellow sunglasses dangling from the collar of a Queen t-shirt as his gaze focuses out of the window to his left. He’s got a pack of cigarettes tucked in the front pocket of his jean jacket and pin on the other.

You quit your staring, you quit while you were ahead as you smoothed your coffee stained apron.

“What can I get for you today?” You ask, capturing his attention as he looks at you.

You swallow thickly as your gaze meets gray eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You take notice of the dimple in his chin and the strands of dark hair that dip down over his forehead as he leans against the counter.

“Just a black coffee with two creams, please,” he says.

“Your name?”

“Sirius.”

You nod with a smile as you snag a cup and the marker from your pocket, turning on your heel to head towards the coffee as you uncapped your marker before you very quickly made that realization and spun back around. In the process, you nearly tripped over your own two feet and you can feel the heat blossoming in your cheeks.

“Sorry, how do you spell that?” You ask, biting the inside of your cheek.

You hear the softness of chuckle as he looks at you, surprisingly not out of mocking even with the way you just made a fool of yourself in front of him. He spelled it out for you with a smile, and you turned away without tripping this time. You made his drink just how he’d asked, your heart racing in your chest the entirety of the two minutes it took to make it as you thought about his smile.

You tried your best to stall, to steal a little bit more time before you had to go back to the counter to face him once more. To give yourself a little more time to let the heat in your cheeks cool off.

You pressed on the lid to his cup and took a breath, turning around and heading back to the counter where he stood leaning against it still.

“One coffee with two creams for Sirius,” you say, setting the to-go cup on the counter as he dug around his pocket for some money.

He counted it out in his palm as his hair fell in his eyes, quickly brushed away as he ran his hand through his hair and set the money down in exchange for his drink, and a little extra for a tip.

You notice the way his gaze lingers on you for a little bit longer, you notice it as the seconds pass and your heart races. It lingers on you and you can see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up as he does, spinning the cup in his hand out of an absentminded habit as his gray gaze finally meets yours.

“You’ve got a little something on your face, love,” he says, pointing to his own cheek as a signal for your own face.

Your hand shoots up immediately to swipe across your cheek, the heat in your face flooding back once more as you swipe your fingers across your skin, pulling back to see that dreaded flour on your face that you knew was bound to be there from that morning.

“Oh, uh, thank you,” you say with a laugh and a smile, his following soon after as he nods.

There’s a sort of tension that simmers as you meet his gaze once more, as it bounces to his smile and you’re not quite sure if time actually stopped or if this is some cliche moving moment happening to you in the middle of your shift, or neither and you’re just being ridiculous. That, it’s probably that one.

Either way, you find yourself interrupted by the ding of the bell to your side on the counter from a customer growing impatient, a call of your name sounding over your shoulder just behind you. It all brings you back to reality.

“Have a nice day, Sirius,” you say, watching as he nods.

“I’ll see you around.”

With that, he offers you that same smile that had your mind on it for a ridiculous amount of time, that smile that made your heart race, and he turned away and headed out that door with a little ding of the bell over the door. He headed down the sidewalk as he snagged a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it before he disappeared around the corner.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Sirius asks, grabbing your attention as he gazes at you over the rim of his cup, gray eyes full of amusement.

“About what?” You ask, playing into it with a half smile even though you know you’re bound to be met with a tease.

“That time you tripped over your own two feet. I mean, do I really have that effect on people, love?” He jest, feeling you kick his foot just under the table.

There it is.

“Must you be so cocky, Pads?” You ask, your gaze glimmering with amusement as you purse your lips.

“I’m afraid I must,” he says.

You roll your eyes as you sip on your drink, eyeing the smile forming on his lips. “What?”

He chuckles as he shakes his head, his gaze dropping down as he swirls his drink in his hands and bites the inside of his cheek. His stare is more amused than ever as he looks at you again, that same lingering gaze set on you in the very same way it had been all those years ago and you knew it couldn’t have meant anything good. If it was anything like that very first time, you were bound to feel your cheeks grow hot even though you’ve known the troublemaker for years.

He doesn’t say anything at first, quiet as he lifts his hand and swipes it across the top of your lip and all the way to the corner of your mouth. He’s just as amused as he wipes away some hot chocolate that’s been left behind from your sip, his chuckle immediate.

“You’ve got a little something on your face, love,” he says, and you hear that teasing tone in his voice that he’s always got, that mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I truly think it’s you that’s the pain,” you huff, biting back your smile.

He chuckles. “‘S that so?”

You nod as you smile at him. “Very much so.”

He bites his lip momentarily as he looks at you, that pesky chunk of his hair falling back down in his face. “I take that as a compliment.”

He used your earlier words, of course he did, that’s just how Sirius Black is. Taunting and teasing in the most lighthearted of ways and that’s something that’s always been so, that’s something that always will be so forever and ever.

He’s got the tip of the arm of his sunglasses between his teeth, having given up on using them to hold back his hair as he looks around the little coffee shop where it all began, as he looks out the window at passers by, the corner of his mouth quirking up when he feels your gaze on him. It widens a fraction as he feels you get up, feels you swing around the edge of the table to take a seat in the booth bench next to him rather than sit across from him.

You’re quiet for a few moments as you rest your head on his shoulder. The foot traffic in the shop was dwindling as it neared closing time, growing less and less busy until it was starting to become just the two of you there. But you weren’t so focused on the details, not when you’ve been in your own little world with the one stealing your attention right next to you as you sat in your usual booth in the corner.

This was it, this was where it all began, this was where you’d met the chaos that is Sirius Black. The chaos that’s brought nothing but good into your life, nothing but a thrilling excitement that only he could bring.

You lift your head and look up at him, his gaze falling on you within a moment’s time. You see that smile, that smile that makes your heart race a mile a minute. You see it and you mirror it as you look at him. It’s only a matter of seconds before you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet and tasting of hot chocolate and coffee and a little bit of that smoke that never quite left his lips.

You kiss him before you wrap your hands around your cup, feeling his eyes on you. You take a sip as you stifle your smile, the arm of his glasses between his teeth once more as that smile he’s got remains as you look at him. You smile when you look away, head shaking as you nudge his foot with yours.

This is where it all began a handful of years ago. This is where you met Sirius Black for the very first time.

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