#yeah I’m convincing myself it’s real again sorry

[waitingonher]

NIGHTS LIKE THESE — [hoo boys drabbles]

summary: how they react to your bad dreams.

author's note: i wrote leo's + jason's part imagining that the cabins/barracks have individual rooms sooo...also ik this trope is so ran through in the pjo fandom but it's just toooo good i couldn't help myself

percy jackson

percy has always been the type of person to pick up the phone no matter the time. even as he’s on a lone movie marathon and the scene reaches its long-anticipated climax, he’s reaching for his buzzing phone that’s lost beneath the sheets. having found it after the third ring, percy checks the time and the caller id. why are you calling him so late? he answers, “hi babe. i thought you had to wake up early this morning, why are you awake?” 

“hi percy,” your voice was shaky and congested, as if you’d been crying. percy immediately sits up, alarmed at the state of your voice, “did i wake you up?” 

“no, no, i was up watching movies. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he’s seated at the edge of his bed now, anxiously awaiting your response. 

you force him to sit in silence as you think of an excuse, “yeah, um…i’m okay. i just wanted to hear your voice. but i’ll see you on thursday, okay? goodni-” 

“(y/n), what’s going on?” percy runs a hand through his hair as he heads out of his room to his kitchen. he rips off a napkin from the roll and snatches a pen from the drawer. on the napkin, he writes a brief message to sally, saying that he’d be over at your place and not to worry. 

“nothing. i’m fine, percy,” you mutter. but your boyfriend knows you too well. the way your voice quivers makes it sound as though you were trying to convince yourself that everything was okay, and you were failing miserably. 

percy places his phone between his ear and shoulder as he ties his shoes, “don’t leave me in the dark, (y/n).” 

“don’t worry about me. i’m fine it was just-” 

“babe, i’m coming over, okay?” and with that, percy hangs up. 

he’s walked this path over a hundred times, usually for dropping you off after dates or simply for hanging out with you. but this time, all percy can think about is how you sounded over the phone and that he needs to seriously pick up the pace. 

upon arrival, percy climbs up the fire escape ladder as quickly and quietly as possible. it’s only now that he’s grateful for his experience from all of those laborious quests. reaching your floor, he knocks delicately on the glass. 

“percy, what are you doing here?” you ask after he closes your window, “i’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come all this way. it’s like three in the morning and you-” 

your boyfriend silences you with a gentle kiss, “i’m okay. it’s you i’m worried about. what’s wrong?” 

“it was just a dream.” 

“just a dream?”

“yes, it was just a stupid dream.” 

percy grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “(y/n), you’re one of the strongest people i know. so if you were crying over it, then it really must be something.” 

you slump on your bed, and percy joins beside you. it's no use hiding it from percy, so with a sigh, you confess, “well, you’re here now. but it just felt so real,” your eyes begin to prick with tears again, “you were laying on the floor…and there was just so much blood, and i tried to stop it—i really did try—but it just kept coming and there was nothing else i could do.” 

honestly, percy didn’t know what to say. but he did know that if your dream was anything like the ones he had about you, they were emotionally and physically crushing. so, he decides that if he can’t say anything, he’d rather show you. percy gently guides your body, until the both of you are laying down. with a strong arm wrapped around your figure and the other rubbing slow circles on your back, he can only hope you understand the message he’s trying to convey. 

“i’m here, (y/n). everything’s going to be okay,” percy continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. slowly but surely, your crying mellows into only soft sniffles. 

as you lay on his chest, you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing body. it wasn’t at all like that dream of yours; his cold body eerily still on the floor. not at all like that. you allow yourself to slowly drift off with the rise and fall of his chest, strangely as if it were its own lullaby, “thank you, percy,” you manage to whisper. 

“i love you, (y/n). i’m not leaving you, ever. i promise,” percy whispers back. 

leo valdez

leo’s used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. considering the demigod dreams, he hasn’t remembered the last time he’s gotten a full night's rest, which is why he’s not surprised to be awake at the crisp hour of two a.m. he can’t even remember the dream this time, but leo bets it was another dream foreseeing his imminent death or the end of the world. 

as he stares at the pipes and wires running along the ceiling of bunker 9, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. leo quickly wipes the sleep from his eyes and picks up the phone from his nightstand, “(y/n)? are you okay? it’s so late.” 

there’s a silence, followed up by quiet sniffles. were you crying? “hi leo, i’m sorry i probably woke you up didn’t i? go back to sleep, i was-” 

“no i was already awake, what’s wrong?” the moment your boyfriend noticed your shaky voice, his attitude completely changed. suddenly awake and full of energy, he tears off his blanket and reaches for his hoodie and shoes.

considering the fact that you never really call so late alarms him. you calling either meant that you had a nightmare or you were hurt…and leo prayed it was the dream. 

“i’m sorry…” you take a deep breath, “i just had a bad dream, like one of those dreams, you know?” leo knows all too well what you’re talking about, and if it’s anything close to the dreams he has, he can only imagine what you’re feeling, “but i swear i’m okay now. i’ll see you later?” 

but leo’s already out the door as you finish your explanation, “i’m coming over, stay there.” 

“wait leo-” 

he hung up. 

the trek through the forest was usually something one would avoid, especially at this hour, but leo couldn't give less of a shit as he thinks about you crying in your room. a few minutes later after practically sprinting to your cabin, he arrives. locating the window to your room was easy, he’d done this several times before for your sleepovers. leo knocks as quietly as he can on the glass, hoping he doesn’t disturb any of your other siblings. 

surprised, you pull your curtain aside and are face to face with none other than your boyfriend. he looks sweaty and out of breath. leo ran all this way? pushing your question to the side, you rush to open the window and let him in. 

for the first time, leo really gets a good look at you. your eyes are red and puffy; you look at him with such desperation and he can’t help but pull you into a rib-cracking hug. 

“you actually came.” 

“what? of course i did, (y/n),” he takes your face into his hands, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. suddenly, tears begin to flow freely down your face. was it something he said? was he not supposed to come? 

you pick up on his confusion, “i’m sorry, i’m just…glad you’re alive,” leo sits you on your bed, and continues to wipe away the tears, his concern growing with each passing second. your boyfriend urges you to go on, “it’s just the same thing every night. i’m at your grave on the hill, and i’m all alone and it’s raining and i just-” 

“(y/n), breathe,” leo pulls you into his chest once more. he holds you so impossibly tight, ensuring that you know he’s there and he doesn’t plan to ever leave. his sacrifice during the final battle against gaia will forever be amongst one of leo’s biggest regrets. not because he had saved the world, but because of how hard it impacted you. without a doubt, you could easily say that those months where leo was gone were the hardest times of your life. and not a day goes by where leo thinks he can ever forgive himself for it, “i’m here. i’m alive.” 

you nod, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups. leo moves the two of you guys to be laying down, and as final reassurance, he gently guides your hand under his hoodie, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat. your boyfriend’s skin is warm to the touch and you count his heartbeat…one…two…three. and that was proof enough, “you’re alive.” 

“i am,” leo soothes. he places a gentle kiss atop your head and pulls the covers over your bodies. his arms wrap tightly around your figure, holding you close, “sleep, (y/n). i’ll be here in the morning.”

jason grace

it’s late nights like these that jason has slowly come to appreciate. these scarce nights where he’s completed his praetor duties for the night and he allows himself to indulge in some self-care, which usually consists of a cup of hot herbal tea and a good book. 

usually, jason prefers historical books, oftentimes concerning roman myths or the occasional diary of some war general. what can he say? he likes to be all-knowing when it comes to these things. but this time, as he’s curled up in his bed, he reaches for the book that you had recommended to him: a classic romance novel. jason laughs to himself as he recalls you teasing him about his taste in literature. if he remembers correctly, you called him a “history-loving freak?” 

just as jason’s about to open the book, an unexpected ringing sounds from his phone. he huffs, momentarily disapointed. that is, until he sees who’s calling, “(y/n)? hi, are you okay?” 

“oh, hi,” jason noticed the way your voice sounded off, like you’d been crying, “i didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

confused, he puts the book back on his nightstand, “of course i would, my love. what’s going on? you sound like you’ve been crying.” 

“no, everything’s okay i just…” you pause, “had a bad dream, so i wanted to listen to your voicemail.”

jason’s heart squeezes at the thought of you going so far as to listen to his own ten second voicemail as a method of comfort. but the feeling goes away just as quickly as it came upon hearing you had a nightmare, “oh i’m sorry, my love. do you want me to come over?” 

“no,” you reply, “it’s okay. i’m better now that i’ve heard your voice. you can go back to bed, jason.” 

despite you declining his offer, jason’s already up and putting his shoes on, “i’ll be there in a few, okay? i love you,” and he hangs up. 

within a handful of minutes, jason reaches your cohort’s barracks. the square windows look impossibly similar, but it’s all thanks to practice that he recognizes yours. even as praetor, he still has to enforce the rules and sneak around. with a quiet knock on your window, he waits in the dark for you. 

“you’re here. you’re alive, jason,” is all you can muster up as your boyfriend stands tall inside your room. his expression is clearly written with worry as he closes the gap between you with a hug. as hard as you tried to fight it, the tears came again in a fresh wave. 

“yeah, i’m here, (y/n). i’m not leaving,” he replies, concern laced in his words. jason notices your tears and gently wipes them away, “c’mere, tell me about your dream,” he beckons, guiding you towards the bed. with a gentle plop, he settles down and opens his arms, inviting you to join him.

settling against jason’s chest, you take a shaky breath as he places kisses on your temple, “i was at your funeral, and you looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping. i just can’t stop thinking about how you looked asleep. and then they expected me to, you know, give a speech in front of the entire camp about you, and i just…i can’t imagine a world without you, so please, you can’t leave me like that.” 

“woah, woah, (y/n) i’m okay, breathe,” jason hushes you, rubbing soft circles on your arm. to be frank, he’s pretty shocked about what you had just said. he can’t get over how shaken up you are by this. but jason can’t even blame you, because if it were him who had the dream, he bets he would also be like this, “i’m here and i have no plan of ever leaving, okay? i’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life,” he jokes, hoping to get at least a smile from you. 

jason’s joke succeeds as he feels your body shake with a quiet giggle, “good. i wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

your boyfriend checks your face once more, ensuring that you’ve stopped crying. seeing that you have, he places delicate kisses on each cheek, “hey, how about we go to sleep now? i’ll read you that book,” jason motions to the book on your nightstand, which happens to be the same one you recommended him. 

you nod tiredly, “only if you do different voices for each character.” 

“of course, only for you,” jason quips. 

after adjusting your bodies, jason reaches for the book and opens it to chapter one. but before he begins, he pulls the covers completely over your body and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you so much, (y/n). and i hope you know that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

#percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson imagine #heroes of olympus x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace fluff

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Two//W.W.

Warnings: smut, bathtub sex, curse words, some dirty talk, Willy wanting to fill reader with his cum

You couldn’t stop thinking about him. Your candy man, your Willy Wonka. You were convinced that his wonder-filled green eyes were burned into your memory forever. Your mind raced with images of his springy dark curls, his creamy pale skin, and his big cock that filled you to the brim. Your pussy ached just thinking about it.

It was a week to the day that he came knocking again. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you opened your door to reveal Willy: brown top hat, purple coat, and the sweetest of smiles.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” you uttered dreamily. Your prayers had been answered: Willy had come back.

“Hey, y/n. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, you’re certainly not bothering me.”

Willy smiled kindly at you, then continued, “I have just been thinking about you, and I wonder if maybe what happened was wrong. I mean, it was absolutely wonderful, but you are a married woman. I would hate for your husband to find out-"

You cut him off as he was speaking, “Don’t worry, Willy. He will never know. It’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “alright then. That’s great. Um,” he looked down at his boots, shyly, “do you mind if I come in? There was something else I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh yes, of course, come in!” you said, maybe a little too enthusiastically, and you stepped aside, letting him by.

Willy walked over to the couch, rubbing his cold hands together. He did look rather cute with his rosy cheeks and slightly pink nose from the briskness outside. “You really should stay inside today, it’s too cold for you to be out there, y/n.” he said.

You blushed at his sweet words, “Should I get you some hot tea to warm you up? Or maybe some coffee?”

“No, no, I really don’t want to trouble you.” he insisted, “Come, sit with me if you would?”

You obliged him, and sat down next to him.

"Look, the real reason that I came by is to ask you if...it was okay, what I did? Was it any good?" Willy cleared his throat, apprehensively, "Did I do a good job?"

You laughed and touched his hand, "Yes, you did. I came twice, Willy. You were a natural. Better than my husband, might I add. And I've been having sex with him for years now. Well, not hardly at all lately, but that's neither here nor there." you shrugged.

"It's just that it was my first time, and I wanted to be sure that you enjoyed it as much as I did." his cheeks became a little bit flushed again, but it was not from the cold this time.

"I definitely did, Willy." you said sincerely, intertwining your fingers with his.

He softly squeezed your hand and nonchalantly looked over to the fireplace area. He shuddered ever so slightly, "That rug."

"Does it do things to you like it does to me? The memory?" you purred as you leaned in close to his ear with an idea creeping into your mind. You bit your lip.

"Yea-yeah, it does. I remember exactly what you looked like laying on that rug.” he turned to look in your eyes. The tension was palpable as your faces were just a few inches apart. “I can't get you out of my head, y/n."

"Ya know, I was about to draw a bath for myself before you came knocking, would you like to get in with me?"

"More than anything." Willy blurted out without hesitation.

.......

Willy had gotten into the hot water first, and you straddled his lap. With the both of you in the tub, the water level was dangerously high. But even if it were to spill onto the bathroom floor, you didn't notice. You were ravaging his lips, and he ran his wet hands all over your body, above and under the water.

Steam rose up from the water, creating a sweltering atmosphere. Your bodies were flushed.

You sank down onto his hard cock, and he rutted up into you. You cried out in pleasure as it slid all the way in. Your breasts bounced, tapping the surface of water and splashing in Willy's face. You grabbed his cheeks and kissed him sloppily as you fucked.

You did your best to grind your hips and keep up with him, but it was a losing battle. You were quickly brought to an orgasm with how fast he was thrusting up into you.

You whimpered as your body went limp, but Willy put his arms around you, and continued to pump his cock in and out. "Oh my God! Willy…Willy Wonka!" you cried, having never felt so good in all your life.

"I gonna come, y/n." he stuttered as his pace slowed and he thrusts became sloppy. He grabbed handfuls of your ass, and gave you a few more strokes as he kissed your face. He groaned in a huff, and you felt his cum filling your pussy.

You hugged him tightly, just needing to be close to him. Willy nuzzled into your neck and you rested your chin on his head. You put your hand on the back of his head, his curls at the nape of his neck were soaked as you pet them.

He looked up at you, his arms still linked around your body, "Kiss me?"

You leaned in and smashed your lips to his, "Mmm." you moaned happily against his mouth. You pulled away and he snuck in another peck to your swollen lips. You put your hands on either side of his chiseled cheekbones, "My angel candy man, dropped on my doorstep, so yummy and cute, with a cock made by the devil." you grinned, kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough. He was addictive like chocolate.

Willy chuckled, "I don't want to be done yet. Need to fill you with more of my cream.”

"Ugh, yes, treat me like one of your fine chocolates, Willy. Fill me, I want it.” you begged, moaning into his lips in another eager kiss.

"Turn over, please?" he asked, in between pecks, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

You couldn't deny his request. He was all you wanted, all you thought about and longed for, and you were going to take him as long as you wanted, as long as he was there. You nodded, swirling yourself in the water so your back was to him. Willy pushed you forward, careful to keep your head above water, and he pulled your hips up. With your ass to the surface and facing him, he held your waist, and slid his dripping wet cock inside you again.

"Ah!" you moaned as he thrusted fast, splashing the water and making it slosh out on the floor. The bathroom was filled with the loud splashing noises he created. You braced yourself on the bottom of the tub with your hands. The bath water sprinkled your face and hair with warm droplets as you took Willy's cock over and over.

After a moment, he let out a huff and you felt him release inside you once more. "Wheeew, sorry y/n. It may take more practice for me to last longer." his breathing was uneven as he spoke. He leaned over your back to leave a kiss on top of your head.

"No," you panted, "it's alright, it was amazing. You bring me more chocolate next week and we’ll practice some more.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed Me? Pt 1

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, stepcest/inappropriate relationships, oral, rough treatment, gag, spanking, spit, semi-public, knife

Info: you just wanted to go on a run, but dear old dad needed some help in the garage; he fucks you stupid. Inappropriate dad joke. Fuck or die type shit

This gif 🥵 fuck me please

“Where are you going doll?” Anakin’s voice floated over to you from the garage.

“Oh hey!” You said, spinning on your heel and walking toward him after shutting the front door behind you. “I was gonna go for a run.”

“A run?” Anakin asked, lifting an eyebrow in a questioning way.

“Yeah you know? Cause I’m trying out for track?” You reminded him with a slight laugh.

“Sorry baby, I forgot.” Anakin said with a little frown. “Do you have a minute before you go? I need alittle help real quick.”

“Oh yeah sure.” You said, walking over to him in your running shorts and sports bra, a loose jacket of Anakin’s slipping down your shoulder.

“I could get it myself but your tiny arms can reach it better.” He grinned, pointing down into the engine bay of an old truck he was working on.

“Oh shut up.” You scoffed, holding out your hand for him to place the wrench in your hand. He happily did so with that cute crooked smile and then dusted off his hands and lifted you up by your waist to sit you down on the lip of the engine bay so you could reach it properly.

He took advantage of your position to stare at your ass, it’d been a long while since he’d seen it the way he wanted to. Maybe it was time for alittle convincing conversation, he thought as he discreetly adjusted his half-hard cock.

Snapping himself back to the current situation he joined you by standing on the drivers side tire and leaning over to explain what he needed you to do. Soon enough you’d extracted a small, but very heavy piece of the engine responsible for getting the exhaust fumes out the exhaust pipe in the back. Anakin explained that in older trucks like this one, these pieces crack and can cause fuel leaks.

“Great job baby.” He said proudly, helping you get down. “I might as well just hire you huh?” He laughed.

“You’re real funny.” You teased. “All I did was take out some bolts.”

“Yeah and that’s like a big chunk of mechanics sweetheart, you’re basically halfway there.” He teased. “It’d be good for you to learn this stuff anyway.”

“I don’t need to know ‘this stuff’ that’s what I have you for.” You said, watched a smirk cross Anakin’s lips.

Anakin raises an eyebrow, handing you a rag to wipe your hands off with. “I suppose you’re right about that doll, that’s alright though I don’t mind it.” He smiled.

You tossed the rag back to him and started to turn around with a little wave so you could get back on task. But Anakin had other plans.

He twisted the rag taut and whipped it quickly out straight at your ass and it connected with a dull *thwap*. You yelped and immediately covered your ass with your hands and spun around to face him with a red face.

“Anakin!” You squeaked, trying to sound stern but only sounding even more flustered than you looked.

"How about instead of you pounding the pavement, I start pounding something else?" His gaze shifts suggestively to your chest before meeting yours again, challenge gleaming in his eyes and a sly smirk on his lips.

“What are you trying to say Anakin?” You scoffed and crossed your arms.

You of course knew exactly what he meant, but it couldn’t hurt to play naive. What had happened between you in the past should probably stay there. It had nearly ruined your reputation during your senior year of highschool. One time, only once, someone caught a glimpse of Anakin sharing a far from fatherly congrats kiss with you in his car after your team won the regional volleyball tournament.

The damage control that came along after the news spread throughout your school and town was intense. Your mother chose to pretend not to hear the rumors and never even mentioned it to either of you. You refused to acknowledge it, Anakin did the same. A few weeks after that, you’d made the painful decision to end your inappropriate relationship; Anakin agreed it was for the best, but that didn’t mean either of you were happy about it.

Now you were in freshman year of college, trying out for track, aiming for the dean’s list, snagging any extra scholarships you could.

The thought was tempting, so so so tempting. You’d missed him. It’s so hard to love someone from a distance when you live in the same house. It was painful, gut wrenchingly painful to wean yourself off those goodnight kisses, the far too long hugs, the couch cuddles, those secret hot and heavy moments you snuck away for every chance you could.

’No.’ You said to yourself , ‘nope, not going there. I. Can’t. Do. That. Again.’

“What am I trying to say?" Anakin repeats, his face mimicking a forlorn puppy. “I miss you.”

“Anakin.” You warned, he can’t use that voice with you. You’d melt. You’d cave.

“Baby, please?” He took a hesitant step forward. “We don’t have to do anything… I just- I miss being close to you.”

“But-“ you started and he held up his hand.

“It was a bad joke I know.” He said apologetically. “I just… you know me I suck at talking about things.”

“It was a bad joke.” You agreed, a soft smile on your lips.

“I know what I said back then… how you’d be better off finding someone your age. It’s true you know? But just cause it’s true doesn’t mean that’s what I actually want.” He whispered, leaning closer until his nose almost touches yours.

“Ani… we really shouldn’t.” You whispered. “You say ‘we don’t have to do anything’ but we both know how we’ll end up if we give in just alittle bit.”

“So you miss me too?” He asked, a little hint of emotion in his voice.

“You’ve always been so good at only hearing what you want to.” You sighed.

“No. I’m just really good at reading between the lines sweetheart.” He said softly, bringing a calloused hand to your cheek.

Anakin was letting his hand hover near your cheek, not quite touching it, just close enough that you could feel his warmth. The fact that he was giving you the choice of even such a small form of intimacy made you want it even more. Hesitantly you allowed the little bit of skin contact, his palm fitting to your cheek perfectly. His thumb rubbed ever so gently across your under-eye, so soothing that if you were to lay down right now, you’d be asleep in seconds.

A warm and genuine smile graced his lips, his eyes shining with adoration and joy that you’d allowed yourself this affection from him.

“I always did love when you wore my clothes.” He whispered, straightening the borrowed jacket back up onto your shoulder. “I like that you still do sometimes.” His tone of voice laced with a horrible longing.

There it was again. That voice. That look in his eyes that made your heart scream. You couldn’t help it, it must be some kind of baser instinct. The horribly painful urge to comfort and hold and love and kiss him when he did this. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

“What are you thinkin’ doll?” He whispered, resting his forehead on yours. His thumb brushing your lower lip while his other hand slid down the fabric of your jacket to rest on your hip.

The respect he showed for your boundaries was always so endearing. Anyone else would’ve just went straight for the bare skin on your waist. It would’ve been so easy to slip his hand beneath the open jacket and squeeze the soft flesh like you knew he wanted to. But he didn’t.

“I’m thinking this is a real bad idea Ani.” You said quietly, even though you were actively inching closer.

“Probably.” He agreed, allowing you full control over the situation. He was itching to give you that kiss you so desperately wanted, but knew it wasn’t his choice. You had to decide.

“Mom would never forgive me.” You mumbled. Knowing that it was true, she turned a blind eye once in hopes of it being a horrible rumor spread by someone at your school. But if word got out a second time around? Game over.

“Mmm no. She wouldn’t.” Anakin whispered, his lips parted and he watched you tilt your chin up.

“It’s just gonna hurt us.” You whispered, your lips centimeters from his. It was taking every bit of control in his body to keep still.

“Like hell.” He agreed, his mouth practically watering as your lip barely gazed his.

“I was just getting over you.” You lied, a last ditch effort to right this wrong before it came to fruition.

“No you weren’t.” He breathed out, hot breath fanning over your wetted lips.

“No. I wasn’t.” You confirmed.

You stay there, your lips so close. Hovering just out of reach, your noses pressed together. The anxiety of waiting for your next move was getting to Anakin and he was trying. He really was trying to behave himself, but fuck you made it so hard on him.

You held your breath and dove in. Lips meeting in a searing kiss, hot and heavy from the very beginning. As if there were no other way to survive, as if you stopped you’d simply crumble to pieces.

Anakin let out a desperate groan and slipped his tongue into your mouth, past your smooth lips to massage your eager tongue. He hummed at the taste of you, having craved it for so long. Like an addict he was doomed the moment he felt your lips again.

Anakin was usually gentle, rough enough when you needed him to be, but right now? You’d never seen him so fucking feral.

He was breathing like he was gasping for air, hot breath from his mouth and nose as he tore the jacket off your shoulders and clumsily grabbed your chin to tilt your head back farther. Practically fucking your mouth with his tongue he walked you backward to his work bench. Cradling your head with one hand and his other was sliding up the back of your sports bra to sit heavy between your shoulder blades.

Your ass hit the wood of the table and he lifted you up and sat you down roughly, the legs scraping across the floor until it was pushed flush against the wall. Anakin’s hands were tight on your hips as he adjusted your angle so that you were perfectly lined up with the big throbbing bulge in his jeans.

He pressed against you, groaning when he realized he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thin fabric of your shorts. The delicious ‘mmm’s, ‘mph’s, and ‘uh’s of his relentless mouth on yours was dizzying. He was always so vocal and it was always so fucking hot. You swallowed those gorgeous little noises and returned the favorite with a whimper when he ground his cock against your core.

“Missed you baby.” He mumbled, his sticky kisses trailing down your jaw.

“Missed you Ani.” You parroted back in a breathy escape of air.

Your brain short circuited from the polar opposite contrast of his viscous lips, teeth and tongue on the sensitive skin of your neck, and the gentle caress of his rough hands on your sides and back.

“Please?” He asked, his index finger running back and forth across the waistband of your shorts.

You nodded, attempting to help him pull them down but he got impatient. So impatient that he grabbed his pocket knife and flipped out the blade quicker than you could blink. A loud *skrrrip* of the fabric left you bare. He’d even managed to get rid of your panties without you even realizing. You were too busy feeling your cunt contract around nothing as you gushed fresh arousal at his eagerness.

“S’fucking taking too damn long.” He grumbled, gently but firmly pushing you back to lie down on the table, his other hand flinging random tools, bolts and screws across the garage as he carelessly cleared a place for you.

His knife dipped under your bra at the valley of your breasts and sliced through it easily, allowing your tits to spill out for him to feast on. Anakin must’ve read your mind, because when he latched onto one of your nipples, tossing his knife aside to tweak the other, he mumbled. “I’ll buy you new ones.”

You would’ve laughed had you been capable of breathing correctly. He left your tits to grab your neck and firmly squeeze it, his tongue trailing down your stomach, circling your navel and then wasting no time at all with suctioning his pretty pink lips around your puffy little clit.

He whined and moaned like he was on the receiving end, the way he got pleasure from your pleasure was beautiful. Never had you seen anything like it. A man who loved pussy, correction: your pussy so much that he could stay buried there for hours. Like it was mutually beneficial, he’d rutted into your mattress for over an hour while tongue fucking you into oblivion once. When he finally relented he sat back on his heels to reveal white sticky smears across his thighs and lower stomach. He’d humped himself to orgasm just about as many times as he’d lovingly forced you to endure cumming for him.

This was different. This was pure unfiltered hunger. Both hands under your ass now, thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart so he could slurp and lick and destroy you as quickly as possible. He was moaning as if he’d found an oasis after days alone in the desert.

“C’mon baby.” He panted. “Give it to me. Give me what I need.”

His deep rumbling voice flowed through every fiber of your being and snapped the coil in your stomach before it could even finish winding up. He shoved two fingers in your mouth you silence your screams and you swore you could feel the man’s cocky little grin against you as he licked you clean.

“That’s it.” He panted, standing up and licking his lips. He pulled his sweat soaked work shirt off his body and wiped his mouth with it.

“Turn over sweetheart.” He commanded, eyes on fire as he whipped off his belt and dropped his grease stained jeans down around his thighs.

You quickly complied, your toes barely touching the ground as the dull edge of the table bit into your hips. Anakin grabbed both asscheeks and jiggled them. You heard him groan right before a loud *smack* echoed in the garage, a stinging slap that would surely leave a red mark.

You cried out, not in pain, but in need. He knew you loved that and he loved to watch what happens after he spanks you. He pulled your asscheeks apart and watched with his tongue folded over his top row of teeth, the tip hiding behind his top lip as your pussy leaked creamy slick down to your puffy folds.

He bent down, hands still firm on your ass to kiss your dripping hole gently before spitting a fat blob of saliva there for good measure. You heard a rustle of fabric before his sweaty tshirt was tossed over your head and forced into your mouth as a gag, Anakin’s big strong hand gripped the two ends together behind your head like reins.

Without warning he shoved his cock into your tight little pussy and pushed down on your lower back with his forearm to keep you still as he pounded into you.

“Sorry doll.” He panted, hips slapping against the backs of your thighs in a sweaty sticky mess. “Gotta make sure no one can hear you sing for me.”

You could hear the grin in his words, you could feel the unbridled lust seeping into your skin from his closeness. His cock bullying your soft gummy walls, he’d gotten you off. Now it was his turn, and he was going to use you until he burst.

“Missed this so much.” He breathed out, his voice hoarse.

“Thought about you every day. Not just the sex.” He admitted. “You. Just you baby. I love you.”

“Fuckin’ love you.” He grunted, huffing and gritting the words out through his teeth.

“Love this pussy.” Each syllable punctuated by a deep and brutal stroke.

“Mine.” He groaned, his hips stuttering. “Mine. I don’t give a fuck.”

“You hear me?” He asked, pulling on the gag to lift your head. He grabbed a hand full of hair along with it and nodded your head for you. “Yeah ‘course you do princess.”

“Don’t care what anyone says.” He whined, his hips snapping faster.

“God damnit.” He panted heavily, his forehead dropped to the dip under your shoulder blade, a hot breathy open mouth kiss placed there.

His fore arm left your lower back to brace himself against the wall, without the weight of him holding you in place you were helpless to the onslaught of rough thrusts, the table swaying and creaking under the force of his cock drilling into your poor abused cunt.

He’d fucked you stupid, you felt delirious, your head spinning as though your were drunk. You supposed you were, cockdrunk that is. You couldn’t tell up from down, or left from right. The only thing on your mind was Anakin.

You moaned it, screamed it, cried it out with big salty tears soaking the drool and sweat stained shirt caught between your teeth. He was right. He was fucking the living daylights out of you and it would’ve been a real shame if someone had called the cops in worry that you were being murdered.

“Fuck sweetheart. You hear me?” He laughed. “Poor thing. Fucked you senseless huh?”

Had he been talking? He’d been speaking to you and you hadn’t heard a word. You were too busy trying to hold onto the very thin string tethering you to reality.

“Sweet little hole’s been leaking down those pretty thighs of yours. You’re cumming and didn’t even know it baby.” He teased. “Does it just feel that good?”

“So good you can’t tell what’s what? All just one big orgasm huh?” He said, the authority in his tone mixed with condescension was so so sweet.

Your eyes rolled back in your head and you went limp again. Oh shit, he was right. What the hell had he done to you? Your body felt on fire, your cunt almost numb from the onslaught of relentless forced orgasms. No wonder you were so completely out of it. He really had fucked you senseless. You could finally hear yourself, truly hear yourself now that Anakin had brought you back down to earth, and god were you loud.

His hips stuttered, his thrusts getting sloppy as he got closer and closer to the finish line.

“Where do you want it huh?” He asked you, not really expecting an answer. He was gonna fuck his cum into you regardless.

“On this juicy ass?” He asked, squeezing it hard, you frantically shook your head.

“No? Where then?” He taunted. “Your mouth? On those pretty lips? Your hair? No… couldn’t be that baby, you hate that.” He laughed. He was enjoying this power trip way too much.

You whined and squirmed under him your words muffled as you helplessly begged for him to please just cum inside.

He must’ve gotten sick of making himself wait, because the next thing he said was, “Oh I know… you want it riiiight there huh?”

He panted, as he held his hips flush against you, his cock unloading rope after rope of hot cum. He gently released you from the gag, a breathy laugh escaping him when you lazily collapsed on the table.

“C’mon sweetheart, let me clean you up hmm?” He said, his voice deep as he tugged up his jeans.

You tried to hop down from the table but every square inch of you was exhausted and throughly used to the point that you were boneless. Anakin stopped you with a soft kiss on your spine, spreading your cunt open again he thrust his tongue deep inside, sucking his cum and your juices from your spent hole.

That’s when you heard gravel crunching under tires up the length of your driveway.

Part Two

Tag-List:

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#star wars anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #star wars #anakin x you #sw anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin #darth vader x you #darth vader x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #stepdad!anakin

[minkdelovely]

love and power

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chapter three “is this the life that lies ahead now?”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: drinking on an empty stomach (do not attempt in real life, but this is hell baby), allusions to poisoning, reader is hungover and has a poor appetite, uh oh art thou pining?, slow burn eventual: smut

word count: 2.8k

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight

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After getting some water you tried falling back asleep to no avail, tossing and turning for at least an hour before deciding to call it quits.

Leaving the hotel in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea, but you felt like you’d start tearing at the wallpaper if you stayed in your room. Cliche as it was, fresh air had always helped you relax while you were living. You thought back to the family garden and sighed. You’d give anything to be able to sit there now.

Your thoughts drifted to your father as you changed out of your pajamas. Things had changed so much in your day-to-day after coming to the hotel that you realized you couldn’t remember the last time he had crossed your mind. You felt a tightness in your throat when you tried to remember what he looked like. It was hazy, but he was mostly there; strong with a brilliant smile. How long would it be before you couldn’t remember him at all? Even the way you heard his voice in your mind didn’t seem completely right, an imitation of a memory.

Was he doing okay? Was he still mourning you? Or did he think you were just missing? Did the money go through? Did he know what you did for him to get it? There was no way to know.

“Can’t sleep?” 

You jumped at the sound of Husker’s voice, so lost in thought and determined to get out of there that you hadn’t noticed him at the bar. It wasn’t surprising that he was still down here, though, being just before midnight. In fact, the real surprise was that he was here by himself. You decided to put leaving on pause and made your way over to him, taking advantage of the rare moment of privacy. Besides, what good would it do to dismiss Husker when he had been so discreet about this morning?

“More like slept too much,” you said, sighing as you took a seat across from him. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Husk jabbed amiably, turning to grab an empty glass. 

You groaned. “Well there goes my hope of looking better than I feel. I was thinking maybe a walk would help, but—” Husk gave you a look, rightly making you feel sheepish. 

“Didn’t go so hot this morning, huh? Thought you’d have better luck at night?” he said, half-joking, and passed you an amber-colored drink. The worry must’ve been showing on your face, as he cooly added, “Don’t worry, it’s been a ghost town in here for over an hour. It’s still only me and Angel who know about what happened.”

“Is he at work right now?” you asked, relaxing a little and took a casual look around. “I really don’t know how I can make it up to you both. This morning I…,” you sighed again and ran a hand through your hair, feeling the exhaustion seep back in. “I don’t know. Hopefully I’ll just forget about it, or convince myself it was a nightmare or something. But I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

You recalled your reflection in the mirror before you showered, unrecognizable to yourself under the layer of gore caked to your skin. 

Husk waved his hand, but the softness in his eyes felt like a rock in your stomach. “Don’t worry about it, we’ve both seen crazier shit in our time. But yeah, he’s been gone for most of the day. Said Valentino was having an ‘emergency’ but I have my doubts. He’s always pulling Angel in for dumb shit.”

You nodded and finally took a sip of your drink, shocked by how much you enjoyed it. A pleasant bitter taste lingered in your mouth, and you had to actively fight the urge to chug down the rest of it.

“Valentino’s his boss, right? Alastor’s done a pretty good job of keeping me preoccupied, but I think I’ve heard you guys talking about him before.”

“That’s the simplest thing to call him, I guess, though I prefer to call him an asshole,” Husk grumbled and you both shared a small laugh, the alcohol already making you feel lighter. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you, Husk refilling your glass as you rested your head in your hand, gazing through the windows to the city below. Would you be able to pinpoint the alley if you concentrated hard enough? Someone had to have stumbled on him by now, right? Like his little sidekick… Did he ever go back for Donny? Something else clicked into place as you thought of him and the events of the morning: unless someone came after you for retribution, you would get away with it. That’s just how life is here.

No missing person report, no investigation, no forensics, no trial, no jail sentence. Weren’t you already “doing time” by being here? It’s not like you could add on to it. Not that you intended to do it again, but it was a step in the right direction of making peace with yourself. Maybe you really would forget about it someday, maybe not. There were some things that stuck with you forever.

The image of your grandmother came to you then, the last time you had spoken with her. She was sitting in her favorite chair near the fireplace in the library, her face set in the ever-present scowl you resented so much. She really was such a miserable creature. You saw yourself place the tray of tea and almond shortbread cookies down on the dark-lacquered, antique coffee table between you, knowing it would the last thing she ever ate. And tried to fight the smile pulling at your lips.

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“It occurred to me in the night that you still owe me something from the butcher,” Alastor said casually, his face buried in the newspaper. Irritation shot through you quick as lightning, but you prevailed against the urge to dump the coffee you were bringing him all over his lap. 

As the grandfather clock in Alastor’s room chimed the hour, the pulse in your head threatened to kill. Apparently hangovers were very real in Hell (because of course they were), and this one was a doozy. Husk had only given you three drinks, but since you had wrung yourself so dry it was  enough to leave you feeling like absolute shit. Beyond some water, the only thing you managed to ingest so far this morning was a piece of plain, burnt toast to try and soothe your aching stomach. It had taken all you had to keep it down. Needless to say, you weren’t starting the day in the best of moods.

Not that you ever thought Alastor would take it easy on you anyway. The look he gave you when you showed up in your new dress was so self-satisfied that it made you want to crawl under a rock. And when he said that you looked like death warmed over, you wanted to use said rock to knock his teeth in. It was the first you had seen of him since the incident in your room yesterday, though you tried not to dwell on the fact that he had returned at some point while you were asleep. In the grand scheme of his behavior you’ve been exposed to, that was really the least of your worries. 

Through the veil of annoyance you found yourself looking at the mug in his grasp, remembering the strength of his hand holding your chin. Your breath shallowed as he brought the rim up to his lips. Fuck. Tearing your eyes away, you did your best to swallow the lump in your throat. This couldn’t be happening.

He was just toying with you yesterday. Nothing new, you told yourself. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes how much he enjoys feeling superior. Not that you had ever seen him pull a stunt like that on anyone else, but who knows? It’s not like you were with him every second of the day. Even in this very moment, he was messing with you. 

Was it your fault that he had only grabbed his clothes off the filthy floor of that alley and left the other bag to rot? Of course he’d see it that way, and if your headache wasn’t as terrible as it was, you might have told him exactly that. Especially considering that you were already out money for the liver, and he was more than likely expecting you to pay again.

“I’ll head out after I’ve finished with your room, unless you’d prefer I go now and clean when I get back,” you answered smoothly, hoping he’d give you permission for the latter. How he had even managed to track in the dirt you saw on the area rug was a mystery. You just knew that it would keep you busy for a decent amount of time and you weren’t looking forward to more scrubbing on your hands and knees. “And if the clothes are ready to be picked up again, I can get those, too.”

Alastor peered over the newspaper, eyebrow raised, his eyes and smile alight with mischief. “My, someone’s eager to be in my good graces today! No need to bother with the laundry, but I hope you won’t mind if I join you going into town. I don’t feel like staying cooped up in the hotel. Go ahead and clean now, I’d hate for those stains on the rug to set. Besides, you know how I despise coming home to a mess.”

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While he waited for you to return after freshening up, Alastor took a look around his room, admiring the results of your hard work. You were turning out to be much more resilient than he had anticipated. Though your expression was hardly ever enthusiastic, you’d never be able to tell by the way you cleaned. Someone taught you well, he thought to himself, breathing in the scent of cleaning products that nearly overpowered the floral almond you always left behind. So pleasant.

Though if he was being honest, he was starting to run out of ideas on how to keep you busy. He would mess up the bed, despite rarely sleeping in it, and leave his housecoat, shirts, and bowties draped over various pieces of furniture for you to pick up and put in their proper place. The mud and dirt on the rug had been a last-minute stroke of genius, but it wasn’t something he cared to repeat too often. God forbid he became predictable. 

There was part of his room you didn’t have access to, and Alastor doubted that he’d ever let you see it — nor anyone else, for that matter. It’s not like it was a space you’d be able to clean in a traditional sense, anyway. After the hotel was rebuilt he thought it would be a nice idea to separate his serene bayou from the rest of the living quarters. Remembering how Vaggie had so rudely barged in on him in the past, it wasn’t something he was keen on happening again. And it was comical to watch you glancing at the locked door, pondering what could be behind it. 

He knew he couldn’t keep you cooped up as his personal chambermaid forever though, unless he wanted to be hounded by Charlie and Vaggie about it. Which he decidedly did not want. And he could admit that this cleaning game was getting stale… How could he switch things up before he tired of you completely? How could he get you to show him another spectacle like yesterday?

A knock at the door snapped The Radio Demon out of his thoughts.

“Alastor? Can I come in?” Charlie said from the other side of the door. By the tone in her voice, he could tell she was here to discuss business. He sighed quietly to himself and went to the door, swinging it open with a charming smile. 

“Why of course, my dear! How may I be of service?” Alastor closed the door behind them and led her to one of the chairs by the fireplace, taking the one opposite her and crossed his legs, neatly folding his hands over one knee. “It’s just the two of us. Sylvie left to go spruce up before we head into town,” he said, noting how Charlie was glancing around the room.

“Oh, good!” she sighed, putting her hand over her chest in relief. “That’s, um, kind of what I came here to talk to you about. I know you’ve been…,” she paused, hands dancing as she searched for the right word, “…acclimating her to working here — and I don’t want to step on your toes — but I think it would be really nice if she could join in on daily activities. No one has really gotten a chance to get to know her yet, and I’d hate for her to keep missing out on opportunities to bond with everyone.”

He had jinxed himself, but at least it was only the princess he had to deal with.

What to do? It’s not like he could say that your cleaning skills needed improvement when evidence to the contrary surrounded them; the room was pristine. He could argue that it would be prudent to keep some level of permanent staff unless they wanted to be in a never-ending state of training new hires, but something told him that wouldn’t be the best approach. At least not for now. Alastor had no intention of letting any souls under his contract be taken from him, for redemption or otherwise. Still, seeing the others develop their relationships with each other had been fun to observe. How would little Sylvie fit into the dynamic?

“I suppose I’ve been a bit selfish with her, haven’t I? I’ll be sure to leave room in her schedule starting tomorrow, but I hope you’ll understand that mornings are sacrosanct,” Alastor said agreeably, straightening his coat as he stood up from the chair. “Unless there was anything else, I’ll go and tell her the good news.”

Charlie followed suit, grin wide and eyes sparkling as they made their way back to the door. “Of course! Oh, thank you Alastor, you have no idea how excited I am!” It was impossible not to. Her enthusiasm was nearly contagious. “Vaggie and I are thinking something up right now as a surprise for everyone, but the details haven’t been totally worked out yet. I’ll let you know as soon as possible though — gah! I can’t wait for tomorrow!”

Alastor merely smiled in response and they parted ways in the hall. He wasn’t thrilled to be losing his monopoly on you so soon, but knowing that he now had to be more intentional with his time was invigorating. Curious to see how you’ll react to being invited to group activities, he made his way to your room, already hard at work thinking of new ways to push your buttons.

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You were surprised to see Alastor in the hall when you opened your door, since you had been instructed to return to his room when you were finished touching up. The quick jump-scare he caused sent a fresh wave of throbbing to your head and you hissed under your breath, unable to stop yourself from massaging your temple.

“You’re up to something,” you grumbled, walking past him to make your way to the elevators. 

He feigned offense, easily stepping into stride with you down the hall. “Chivalry is lost on you twenty-first-century souls! I don’t know why I bother.”

You glared at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the sardonic look on his face as you stepped into the elevator. It was best not to push your luck with him, considering you still had an entire outing in Cannibal Town to get through. You were about to say something when the elevator stopped after going down a couple floors, the doors opening to Angel Dust. He looked exhausted. 

When the two of you made eye contact, he glanced away, the air in the elevator quickly turning nervous as he walked in. Was it because of yesterday? Maybe Angel hadn’t been as comfortable with it as Husk made it seem… Suddenly he hit a button, stopping the elevator in its tracks. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, steeling himself. 

“Hey, so… you know how you came home lookin’ like fuckin’ Carrie yesterday?”

You felt Alastor’s static humming in the space between you; the first reaction he’s had since Angel came into the elevator. 

“I wanted to apologize sooner but—”

Angel waved his hands, cutting you off. “No, no, please, you don’t have to,” he said, a small laugh escaping him. “Look, uh… I’m only bringin’ it up cuz I just gotta know.” He was actively fighting a smile as he continued, “The trouble you ran into? His name wasn’t Donny, was it?”

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tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fan fiction #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #slow burn #song fic #if i can’t have love i want power #love and power #x reader #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hazbin hotel slow burn

[xothatnerdykid]

what would you do? (baby, if you only knew)

When mysterious pro hero Eraserhead saves you one night, you insist on buying him a cup of coffee to say thank you. Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x fem!reader drabble. Cute and fluffy but very suggestive towards the end (still SFW tho). 2,409 words.

"It's not safe to be out at night all alone, sweetheart," the man with the wolfish smile moves closer to leer at you.

Ignoring him, you wrap your coat tighter around you and walk faster. 

As your bad luck would have it, this only riles him up further and he chases after you. "Let me walk you home, pretty little thing. Can't have you getting into trouble now, can we?"

"The only one getting into trouble…" Your voice quivers, but there’s a determination underneath your fear as you turn to face the stranger, “Is you!”

You spray your mace in his eyes but he’s faster than you, and stronger too. He wrestles it out of your hand and grabs your wrist, twisting it behind you. 

Before you can even think to scream, the man’s already on the ground.

A figure in dark clothing emerges from the nearby shadows. He had your would-be attacker tied up in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t you know,” he said low and menacingly — too menacingly for a hero, you think — bending down to grab the man’s wrist the way he did yours. “That’s no way to treat a lady?” 

He twists it until the man screams out in agony. “Gaaah! Alright, alright, already! Just let me go!”

“Not until you apologize.”

He looks up at you with frantic, pleading eyes, “I’m sorry. Now will you please tell this psycho to let me go?”

He loosens his grip on the man’s arm with a shove. “The police are already on their way to pick you up, so don’t even think about trying anything.” 

The perpetrator grunts but bows his head in defeat. 

“Are you alright?” The man finally turns to look at you, the harsh edges of his voice softening just a little when he asks you. 

You take a good look at him and realize he’s almost intimidatingly taller than you. With a lean frame clad in all black and a grey scarf, his eyes are dark and piercing in spite of their obvious weariness. He has a scar on his face and long, messy dark hair. 

But in spite of all these things, there’s a kindness to his expression and in the way he almost reaches out to touch you.

You nod. “Yes. Better, now. Thanks to you.”

He drops his hand and stuffs them into his pocket. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before he clears his throat, “Do you need an escort home?”

You don’t, really. It was only a block away from here and much better lit and safer than this shortcut you recklessly took, but you say yes anyway. “I’d appreciate that.”

Without another word, he falls into step beside you and you walk in silence. It’s not long before you’re at your apartment building door.

You want to say thank you, but — “I don’t even know your name.”

He shrugs. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to thank you properly,” you insist.

He eyes for a moment before hesitantly reaching out his hand. “Shouta.”

Oh.

You weren’t expecting him to give you his real name.

He mistakes your surprise for hesitation and almost pulls his hand back before you realize your mistake, hurriedly shaking it.

“Thank you, Shouta. I owe you for saving me tonight. What can I do to repay you?”

He shakes his head. “That’s not necessary.”

“Please, I insist. Do you drink coffee? Or like cats?”

He scrunches his eyebrows at you. “Cats?”

“Yeah, I work at this cat cafe not too far from here. Stop by anytime this week and I’ll have a free coffee waiting for you,” you offer hesitantly. 

“Hmm,” he rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe if I pass by it on my patrol, sure.” 

But his noncommittal answer makes you cross your arms over your chest. “Don’t tell me I have to get myself into trouble to see you again?” You half-joke.

He doesn’t laugh. 

But there's the faintest glimpse of something akin to amusement in his eyes that you convince yourself you’re probably not imagining, so you take that as a small win.

"Your choice," You shrug and unlock the door to your apartment building.  Turning to face him one last time before heading inside, you smirk. "See you around, Shouta."

He clears his throat but says nothing more. You leave him standing in the dimly lit street outside your apartment, but he doesn’t leave your mind for days.

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"So is the coffee here any good?"

You look up to the surprising sight of the man who saved you a few days ago standing in front of the counter. “Shouta!” You exclaim, and a genuine smile lights up your face. “Glad you could make it. This shift was starting to get the better of me.”

He rubs the back of his neck and you notice he has his hair up this time, the scarf gone. You can't help but stare at his hands and the exposed skin of his neck as he looks around the cozy cafe and all the playful felines. 

When he doesn’t say anything, you offer, "Do you want to pet a cat? Or just a coffee?" Hopefully not to go, you think to yourself.

“You know I’m too old for you, right?” He asks instead, and you feel your face heat up. 

"I don't think so," you shoot back. And despite how flustered you feel, you look him right in the eye.

He does the last thing you expect him to: he leans against the counter and chuckles. "Relax, I was only teasing."

Filled with newfound confidence, you smirk and look up at him from underneath your eyelashes. "I wasn't."

There’s a moment of charged silence where he looks like he might be on the brink of smiling again, the corner of his lip twitching. But he clears his throat instead and his expression turns stony and blank again. "So, about the coffee..."

_________________________________________________________________________

You tell him it'll be ready in 5 minutes, and he takes a seat in the back corner, playing with some of the cats and kittens. For someone who seems so stern and serious all the time, he's surprisingly gentle with them. You think it adds another layer of intrigue to him. 

As you bring his coffee over, you notice him engrossed in rubbing a little orange tabby cat dozing off on his lap. And you know you're not imagining the smile on his lips this time.

"Enjoying ourselves, are we?" You can't help but poke fun at him as you set his cup down on the table. "Is this what heroes do in their spare time?"

He snorts. "What free time?"

"Oh?" You sit down across from him even though you know you're not supposed to (for reasons other than getting in trouble with your manager). 

You cross your legs and brush your foot lightly against his ankle. And although he doesn't comment on it or react, he doesn't move away either. 

“I’m flattered then, that you somehow managed to find the time to drop by.”

He shrugs, then takes a sip of his coffee. "You should've made one for yourself so you could keep me company.”

"I thought you said I was too young for you?"

"No, I said I was too old for you.”

You quirk your eyebrow in return. "And I said not to me."

And though you're just being your usual playful self, you can sense the subtle shift in the atmosphere as the moment lingers.

Shouta is looking at you intensely, and though you know him to be a man of few words, his eyes seem to be holding a conversation all on their own right now.

His little laugh breaks the spell, the sound deep and genuine. "You're relentless, I'll give you that," He shakes his head.

"And you're stubborn." You take the drink he offers you and make sure to keep your eyes fixed on him as you sip it. "What's it gonna take for you to listen?”

He quirks his eyebrow at you, and you don’t miss the way his fingers brush against yours when he takes back his coffee cup. “I’m listening…”

_________________________________________________________________________

Shouta comes back to the cafe a couple of times after that, and it’s always the same. You make sure you don’t take your break until he arrives and you happily spend all of it and more chatting with him in his favorite corner near the cat tower. 

Each visit is a bright spot in your day, and you allow yourself the small hope that it is for him, too. The conversations flow naturally, a mix of light-hearted banter and personal stories. Shouta opens up about his work, his passion for teaching, and his love for cats. In turn, you share your dreams, your aspirations, and your random nonsensical thoughts with him.

And just like every other time, you have to force yourself to get up, sighing. "Okay, everyone's giving me the look again. My break ended about 15 minutes ago."

He holds his hand up to gesture that it's no big deal and gets up too. "Thank you for the coffee and the company. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

“No, no trouble at all. You know, you don’t have to leave just because I have to go back to work.”

“I can’t. Duty calls.” He rubs the chin of the little tabby cat on his arm and she purrs contentedly. “But I’ll come back. This one seems to have taken a liking to me.”

“She wouldn’t be the only one.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way your flirty comment leaves him a little flustered. He looked devastatingly handsome to you, frowning and turning away to hide his blush.

Clearing his throat, he sets the kitten down gently on the floor with the others. 

As he turns to leave, you impulsively reach out to grab his wrist.

He looks at you, surprised, and you give him a playful smile. "Hey, one more thing before you go."

Leaning closer, you press your lips against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

He freezes for a moment, uncharacteristically caught off guard again (you seemed to have a habit of doing that to him). But it’s not long before he relaxes into the kiss, his lips moving against yours with an unexpected tenderness.

When you pull away, you search his face for any indication of his feelings and there’s a spark of something…soft and almost shy in his gaze.

“I’ll be looking forward to that coffee,” he says with his eyes half-lidded and his breath ghosting across your cheek.

"I'll be here," you smile, face flushed and heart racing. 

_________________________________________________________________________

“You’re not wearing your uniform,” Shouta remarks when he sees you again. 

And it’s such an unexpected thing for him to say when you have him pressed up against the wall of the tiny, dimly lit supply closet by the back of the cafe where you were just making out, that you have to laugh.

“I could say the same for you.” You grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him again, deeply, searingly. You love how erratic his breathing and his eyes get, the way his swollen lips feel against yours. 

“I’m not working today,” He murmurs, breath mingling with yours.

“Neither am I.”

“Oh?” He pulls aways for a moment. “Then why are you here?”

You smirk, “Didn’t wanna miss my favorite customer in case he came in.”

His face immediately softens, and you revel at the warmth of his thumb lightly tracing the outline of your lips. “Is that so?”

“Yes. By the way, have you seen him yet?”

It’s his turn to laugh now. 

The sound is so light-hearted and genuine that you can’t help the warmth that floods you at the thought of being the one to bring it out of him. 

“No, but I’ll be sure to tell you when I do.” He brushes a lock of hair from your forehead and places a soft, lingering kiss there. “In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind slumming it with me.”

“Hmm,” you pretend to think about it for a moment. “I suppose…I could be persuaded…” You trail your fingers playfully up his shirt and then cup his chin. “But you’ll have to work hard to convince me.”

His hands wander down your back and stop to rest on your waist, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want me,” He murmurs in a voice so low and husky it makes your toes curl, “to show you just how persuasive I can be?”

You nod eagerly, and he smirks as he hoists you up and turns you around so that you’re the one pinned up against the wall now. He cradles the back of your head and leans down to capture your lips in another electrifying kiss.

You feel so lost in the sensations of his intoxicating taste, his hungry kiss, his hands roaming your body that you hardly notice yourself instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist.

He does, however, and feeling your grip on him suddenly tighten, hearing your small exclamations of pleasure — it’s enough to leave him just a little dazed and heady with desire.

You pull back for a moment to catch your breath, but he's not having it, quickly closing the distance between you again. He needs this. He loves it too much to stop. 

You feel yourself smile against his lips and push him away gently. “Shouta,” you laugh breathlessly. “Give a girl a minute.”

He chuckles darkly, his playful demeanor from moments ago subtly turning into something more intense. “You know, y/n,” His grip on your waist tightens as he leans in again, his lips trailing a searing path along your jawline and down your neck. “I pride myself on being a gentleman…”

You don’t — can’t — respond, each touch sending a jolt of desire through you. You can hardly contain the soft gasps that escape your lips.

“So I hope you don’t feel offended by me asking this,” you feel his hot breath against your chest, up your neck. When he looks into your eyes, his gaze is smoldering. His dark and clouded eyes flicker down your lips for a moment before he continues, “But would you like to come back to my apartment with me?”

You’ve never said yes to anything faster in your life.

#aizawa shouta #bnha shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x reader #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #amaya writes #aizawa sensei #eraserhead #aizawa imagine #aizawa shouta imagine #aizawa shouta x you #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x y/n #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

[totaly-obsessed]

Hi first off all I don’t know who you write for but could you maybe write something about pregnancy with Niamh Charles or Maya Le Tissier???

Picture Time

Niamh Charles x reader request

-> Going through pregnancy with Niamh

-> @anon hope you like it! It is a bit shorter than I wanted to but I ran out of ideas

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽���─────•

“Baby, please! Just stand up straight against that wall!” Niamh has been trying to convince you to take pictures for a month now.

A month ago you had finally gotten a positive pregnancy test, and ever since confirming with doctors, your fiancé was obsessed with getting you in front of a wall. “That sounds like I’m a prison inmate baby.”

The sly smirk on her face was nothing new – any time you said something remotely sensual, or something she could misinterpret she turned into a horny teenage boy. “Oh! Didn’t know that you had a role-play kink, baby. So you’re the inmate – what am I the hot police officer?” You couldn’t swat her wandering hand fast enough, letting out an annoyed huff. “Don’t lie baby – you would kill to see me in a uniform and I know it.”

Her cocky stance changed immediately when you tried to get away from the empty wall. “No wait! I’m sorry!” Kiss after kiss was pressed on your forehead while she grabbed your wrists, gently maneuvering you back into position – one side facing the wall, the other facing Niamh. “I’ll take one picture every week and watch you two grow!” That was fine in itself but you didn’t understand why that had to happen in your underwear.

The footballer tried to calm your nerves down again and again once she knew of them – of course, your body was changing, how could it not? But to her, you looked perfect, you started to show just a little and both of you had noticed once she had made you stand in front of the wall.

While Niamh was ecstatic throughout the first months, you started to get nervous.

Niamh however, was very useless when it came to the nerves “Just don’t stress about it – relax, baby!” she had said when you told her about your fears. “I have a small human being depending on me to grow strong and healthy for a whole nine months, what’s to stress about, right?” Your snappy response was enough for her to realize, that you really did mean it, you were scared.

The defender realized that her life hadn’t changed all that much ever since you had gotten pregnant – but yours was completely different than before, and she became a lot more understanding.

Everything hurt, you started to swell up and gain weight, and your hormones were in overdrive – driving you both crazy. Quite a few people started to distance themselves from you, a lot of them being old friends who didn’t want anything to do with children, and others who were just disappointed that you didn’t want to hit the night scene anymore. “So what if you’re pregnant – you can still come!” One of them had actually said that, and she accused you of being selfish when you explained, that you just couldn’t go to clubs right now – no matter how much you wanted to.

You also had to give up a lot of food, that Niamh started to obsess over once she realized that some things just weren’t good for the baby growing inside of you. “Carbs, coffee, dairy… this kid better be real sweet for everything I had to give up.” Yeah – breakfast had changed a lot and it was now up to your fiancé to make it, as she desperately tried to ignore your whines for coffee.

But she was your rock throughout the whole pregnancy – she never invalidated your feelings and she was always happy to just be with you, no matter what state you were in, helping you through the pain and making you laugh so much that “I just peed myself a little.” Was not an uncommon sentence in your home.

Winning the FA Women’s Super League 2022/23 was huge for Niamh, but it was even better to see you after the match – with a round belly, carrying your child. “We did it, baby!” She was so excited as she was trying to scream over the noise of the crowd, climbing into the friends and family section, and pulling you into a deep, passionate, and bruising kiss. “You did it, baby!”

But after the initial hugs and kisses you noticed the smell – usually you didn’t care but having a sensitive stomach was a bitch. “Baby I love you, but please don’t come close to me until you’ve had a shower or I’ll puke on you.” Everyone in your vicinity laughed at your pouting girlfriend, but they quickly stopped once you wouldn’t hug them either – until Millie ushered them into the changerooms.

After winning the league there were a couple of formalities to go through – such as taking professional pictures with the trophy – and smitten as Niamh was, she took you with her. Both of you had picked a gorgeous dress to match Niamh’s stunning blue suit. Everything was going absolutely fine until it came to the shoes.

“Fuck this!” Sam swears she has never seen Niamh faster than that. “What? What is it?”

“I can’t see the ground anymore, my stomach is so big and I can’t get these dumb shoes on!” With a soft coo, your fiancé started to wipe the frustrated tears away, that were making their way down your cheeks. “Awwwh, baby. You’re absolutely fine.” She helped you into the shoes and pulled you up.

After a few kisses and calming back rubs, you were fit to leave the room, seeing Niamh’s teammates eying you with concern. “Everything’s fine guys! It is just that growing a human being is really hard.”

Both Niamh and you were counting down the days to your due date – your fiancé’s ever-growing picture collection on her phone being the most watched thing she had on there while you literally crossed off days on the calendar, getting nervous when you started to see the circled one.

Just a couple more weeks to go.

“Baby I think we should start thinking about the birth plan by now.”

“Oh, I have a plan. Get her out.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #niamh charles x reader #niamh charles #chelsea wfc x reader

[pippytmi]

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?” 

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn��t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint. 

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.

#prompt was: 'aw that sounded a lot like you like me / im just a good actor' #i rewrote this a million times and finally settled on a childhood friends + celebrity au :) #supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i miss these two dramatic ''besties'' who just wanna kiss each other on the mouth #lyssa #as always ty for the prompt !! <3

[tightjeansjavi]

𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙𝟚 “cowboy like me”

♡ 𓃗 ♡

Pre! Outbreak Joel × horseback riding instructor f!reader

A/N: I wrote this entire chapter in one day and I’m pretty proud of how it turned out. Definitely a more angsty/feels chapter but I absolutely adore how close Joel and Tommy are as brothers in this. Enjoy! ♡

~word count: 5.5k~

Summary: horse dad! Joel throws in a little punch at your shit excuse for an ex boyfriend. Things get a little angsty, and emotions and feelings are openly shared.

Warnings: angst, mild violence (Joel punches your ex and breaks his nose) brief mentioning of blood/injuries. Gaslighting, egging on, toxic behavior from readers ex, Readers ex is an animal abuser (this is directly stated so proceed with caution) anxiety, fear, guilt, yelling, anger, reminiscing on the past, foul language, drinking, admittance of feelings, tooth aching fluff scattered throughout (especially between Joel and Tommy) making up, forgiveness. (+18) minors dni!

blue jeans playlist:

Austin, Texas

“What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing here Logan? This is private property. You are unwelcome here.” You spoke firmly despite the slight quiver in your tone. You were simmering in anger, trembling in rage.

“Oh, my darling. Is that really any way to speak to me? Y’know…that’s the funny thing about restraining orders, you have to renew them or they expire. Besides, did you really think I wouldn't show up here again?” He pushed himself off the side of Frankie’s stall, a swagger in his step as he approached you and Joel. “After you dragged my fucking name through the dirt? Created all these false claims that I’m an animal abuser?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Did you really think I’d let you fucking get away with it? You think I’m that much of a fool?”

Your Texas tall glass of water was instinctively stepping in front of you. Acting as a physical shield to protect you from your ex’s harsh words. “Imma need ya to take 5 steps back from where you came from. 5 steps. Now. I don’t know who you are, but what I do know is that you’re a piece of shit. You don’t get to come here and spew some shit like you own the fuckin’ place? Man, who the fuck taught you manners cause you sure as hell ain’t have any. Secondly, you ain’t gonna talk to my girl like that. You ain’t gonna go and make her feel like she’s inferior. You ain’t gonna try and scare her into submission like that. Now, if you know what’s best for ya, you’re gonna walk on outta here with your tail between your legs. You’re gonna go home, lick your wounds and leave her, and her horses the fuck alone. Do I make myself clear buddy? Cause..I ain’t gonna say it again.”

Joel’s voice didn’t waiver like yours did. He was stern, and straight to the point. His own blood was beginning to boil like a hot kettle on the stove. His eyes were narrowed, holding a harsh edge of disgust. Who the fuck was this prick? How dare he talk to you that way. What a sorry excuse for a man. Fucking pathetic teenage, alpha male mentality.

Logan laughed. Of course he fucking did. He was so far out of touch with reality that he had himself convinced that he was the hottest thing since sliced bread. “Ah, you the boyfriend or something? She got you wrapped right around her pretty little finger, huh sweetheart? She’s got her claws deep into you man. Can’t blame you for falling so hard, she’s got the sweetest—”

“You ain’t talkin’ to her. You’re talkin’ to me. Yeah, I’m her boyfriend, and you’re runnin’ my patience real fuckin’ thin. You like runnin’ your mouth? Huh? Such a tough man you are. Comin’ in here n’puffin’ your chest like a fuckin’ imbecile. Now, like I already said, you go on home now and lick your fuckin’ wounds. Get fuckin’ lost.”

“Oh ho ho! The big scary boyfriend coming to your rescue? You're gonna let him talk to me like this sweetheart?” He ignored Joel completely as he looked over the other man’s shoulder, directly at you.

“That’s enough!” You finally spoke, fed up with your ex trying to get a rise out of Joel. You had been with Logan long enough to understand that game he always would play. He was an instigator. A cockroach that would never die; no matter how many times you stepped on it. “Go home Logan. I don’t know what you thought was going to happen when you showed up here, but you need to leave.” You stepped around Joel, taking matters into your own hands as your finger prodded against Logan’s chest firmly.

“Go home? Yeah, not gonna happen baby. It’s going to take a lot more than your grumpy guard dog of a boyfriend to get me to leave. Besides, do you think I just came here to humiliate you? No. I came back for my fucking horse. Whiskey belongs to me. Now you’ve gone and turned him into a sack of meat. A children’s lesson horse nonetheless? Fuck you—”

You shoved at him hard, placing your hands on his shoulders as you pushed him back. “Whiskey does not belong to you. He belongs to me and he is well fucking loved. You’ve got some real fucking nerve showing up here thinking that I’m just going to let you take him! You should be rotting in fucking jail for what you have done to my horses. Let alone how you have treated me when we were dating. If you don’t leave my property now, I will call the cops.”

Joel’s blood had hit the boiling point. The kettle had screamed, steam billowing as his fists clenched tightly at his sides. If this son of a bitch ever laid a fucking hand on you, his girl…breathe, Joel. Breathe.

“Oh, go on right ahead and call the cops, baby girl. I’m sure your daddy would love to see me!” Logan sneered with a wicked grin on his face as you pushed him back. As soon as his hands grabbed your forearms, there was no stopping Joel from intervening.

It happened in a flash, Joel grabbed Logan’s hands and yanked them from the firm grip they had around your forearms. He pushed him back so hard, he fell straight back on the aisle floor. “You don’t fuckin’ lay a finger on her! You fuckin’ hear me?! YOU DON’T LAY A FUCKIN’ FINGER ON MY GIRL.” Joel had grasped him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up harshly from the floor. He shoved him once more, jaw clenched and veins bulging along his neck.

“Lay a finger on her? Well, I hate to break it to you, but I wanna do so much more than that—” Logan egged him on.

A sickening sound on bone and cartilage crunching under Joel’s heavy fist echoed through the open stables. Your Texas tall glass of water wasted no time on clocking this mother fucker right in the face, knocking him out cold. Joel was not a violent man at heart, but he would be damned if he’d watch from the sidelines and not deal with this shit bag head on.

He was seeing red-hot rage blazing behind his eyes as his fist connected with his face. A clean shot, a broken nose. Far less damage than Joel felt that he deserved. His fist ached, and the torn skin around his knuckles stung, but the adrenaline was freshly coursing through his veins as he turned over his shoulder and looked back at you.

“Joel..” your hand was covering your mouth in shock, and a twinge of fear. You were not one for condoning violence and Joel could see it written all over your face.

“Baby, I’m sorry..I—he wasn’t gonna stop. He wasn’t gonna leave.” Joel tried to reason with you.

“I know, but we—we need to call the cops. Just..stay there, okay? I’ll go get some ice for your hand, and I have a medical kit in my office—” you were already pulling out your phone from your pocket when you felt his warmth embrace you. Calloused palms resting along your cheekbones.

“Okay, we can call the cops. I know we have to, but are you—are you okay?” He spoke softly to you, eyes nervously searching yours as his thumbs gently stroked away the tears that had begun to freely fall.

“Joel..I’m fine. Okay? I’m fine. Please just..call the cops and I’ll go get the ice, okay?” You pleaded with him, heart clenching in on itself when his face fell.

“Okay. I’ll call the cops.” He agreed as he slowly dropped his hands from the gentle hold they once had on your face. He watched momentarily as you quickly made your way to your office space, swinging the door shut behind you. He scrubbed a hand down his face as he dialed 9-1-1 on his own phone, bringing the device up to his ear with a heavy sigh.

Tears blurred your vision as you grabbed a pack of ice from the fridge and the medical kit from the cabinet next to it. You quickly wiped your tears and fanned your face. You weren’t mad at Joel, not really. You understood why he did what he had to do, but at the same time you were upset, and a little overwhelmed. Okay, a lot overwhelmed. You took a few minutes to calm down before you left your office.

Joel was sitting along a tack trunk in front of Whiskey’s stall, with his head in his hands when you reappeared. “I called the cops. They’re on their way now.” He wiped away his own freshly brewing tears.

You momentarily glanced at Logan’s knocked out form laying on the dusty ground as he let out a pained groan and rolled over onto his side. “You son of a bitch..” he grumbled, spitting out blood onto the floor. “You’re gonna pay for that motherfucker.”

Joel ignored him as he was too focused on the way you were gently dabbing antiseptic ointment across the split skin on his knuckles. He truly couldn’t get a good read on how you were feeling in that present moment, but he appreciated your touch of kindness regardless. His forehead was gently touching yours as he pressed the softest kiss to skin between your brows, closing his eyes momentarily.

Once you finished applying the ointment, you placed the small bag of ice over the skin to help bring the swelling and bruising down. You gave his good hand a gentle squeeze before you stood up from the tack trunk.

You tossed the other bag of ice in Logan’s direction before all your attention was turned on making sure that your horses were okay.

Once the cops arrived, they took your statement and Joel’s. Logan was crying about his broken nose in the back of the ambulance as another cop took his statement.

Joel had no idea as of yet that the chief of police was your father. Although the resemblance was striking, he didn’t want to go and make any assumptions right off the bat.

You spoke to your father off to the side as another officer was detaining Joel and placing handcuffs around his wrists, with his chest pressed up against the side of the cop car.

“Look, I know that you have to do your job here dad, but is it really necessary to arrest him? Joel did nothing wrong. Logan showed up here uninvited and he wasn’t going to leave. I tried to get him to leave and he put his hands on me and that’s when Joel snapped.”

Your father let out a sigh with his arms crossed over his chest. “Sweetie, you know I’m just doing my job here. He hit another man, and that’s classified as assault. A family member will have to pay a small charge to bail him out, but I’ll pull some strings to make sure it won’t end up on his permanent record. As for Logan? I’m not going to be as nice. Now, I want you to lock up here and go home. Call Ryder up to spend the night or something, okay?”

Your dad was a tough man, but a real softy at the same time. You both watched as the other officer pushed Joel into the backseat of the vehicle. You let out a sigh as you looked over at your father and nodded.

Joel was in utter defeat as he sat in the back of the cop car with his head resting back against the seat. Normally it was Tommy getting his ass arrested, but Joel? Never. It was a new low for him and he was simmering in it.

“Not the usual Miller brother that I’m used to picking up.” Your father spoke as he leaned back against the side of the car. He had picked up Tommy Miller a few too many times but this was his first time meeting Joel.

“Yeah, I think my brother Tommy has mentioned you a few times before sir. I’m always the one bailin’ his ass out..” Joel responded with a defeated sigh.

Your father nodded. “Yeah, your brother Tommy and I are on a first name basis. Always going on about how his big brother always bails him out.”

“Well, Tommy is always finding his own way of getting into trouble. I apologize for you havin’ to be on a first name basis with him. He has gotten a lot better as of late.”

“Are you dating my daughter? I might be old, but I can put two and two together.”

Joel felt all the color slowly drain from his face. His palms began to sweat when his assumptions that the chief of police was in fact your father was true. He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “I am dating your daughter sir.”

“Are you treating her right?”

“I am sir. Your daughter means a lot to me. She’s a wonderful woman, and I’m awfully lucky to know her.”

“Good. I can tell you treat her right just based on the fact of how quick she was to defend you. Meeting under these circumstances is not ideal, but you’ll have to come over for dinner one night.”

She defended me?

“Sir, I would be delighted to have dinner with you and your family.” Joel was in disbelief to say the least. He was not expecting your father to be so open to him like that.

“I also want to say I appreciate you sticking up for my daughter. She’s pretty good at holding her own, and she gets that from her mother, but thank you for keeping her safe.”

“You’re welcome sir.”

“Once we get you booked in the station, you can call your brother to come pick you up. It’s a small fine to be paid, but I’m sure he can manage it.”

Joel could only nod as your father closed the back door before climbing into the driver's seat. The drive to the station was a quiet one and once Joel was booked in, he immediately called Tommy.

“Tommy? Hey, it’s Joel. Uhh..listen, are you busy right now? I uh—I’m in jail.”

The last thing Tommy was expecting was for his big brother to call him and say that he got himself arrested. It was unlike Joel and completely against his nature. “Joel? What the fuck are you talkin’ about? The hell did ya do to get arrested?”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose as he inhaled deeply, resting his forehead against the cold brick wall. “I punched Clover’s ex in the face..well, in the nose. Broke it and everythin.’ He showed up to the barn uninvited, and he put his hands on her and I lost it.”

���Clover? Ohhh is that your girl’s nickname? That’s cute. I just can’t believe that my big brother, Joel fuckin’ Miller got his ass thrown in jail. Man, I’m never gonna live this one down.”

“Yeah, that’s her nickname ‘cus she’s my lucky charm. Anyway, can you cut the crap and just come fuckin’ bail me out? I don’t wanna sit here all night. Also, do not fuckin’ bring this up to Sarah. She ain’t need to know that her dad got arrested, alright?”

“Aw, she’s your lucky charm? Man, that’s so stinkin’ cute! Yeah, hang tight big brother. Tommy is coming to the rescue! I won’t bring this up to Sarah. You have my word.” Joel could hear Tommy smirking through the receiver.

“Thank you so much. However will I repay you?” Joel grumbled sarcastically.

“With a big ole’ hug and kiss!” Tommy laughed as he grabbed his keys quickly.

“I ain’t gonna kiss ya Tommy.”

“You ain’t got much of a choice, big brother. Alright, I’m gettin’ in my truck now. See ya soon!”

Joel hung up with a sigh. At least your father was kind enough to place him in a semi comfortable holding cell. It was still pretty cold, but it was just him in the room thank god.

Tommy arrived at the police station about 20 minutes later. He gave the chief of police a little salute and a wink before paying the small fine of $500 and signed his brother out. He had a big smirk on his stupid face when Joel was released from his short stay in jail. A grimace was plastered on his face as Tommy pulled him in for a hug, to which Joel begrudgingly returned.

Once the two Miller brothers were safely in Tommy’s truck, Joel barely had a second to breathe before his younger brother was opening his big mouth. “Joel, what in the hell were you thinkin’ hittin’ her ex like that?!? Man, you’re so lucky that you didn’t have to sit in a cell all night! What do we say to Tommy? Thank you so much for bailin’ me out of jail! You’re the bestest brother I could ever ask for!”

Joel let out a frustrated groan at his brother's antics as he reached over the dashboard and trapped him in a headlock. “You and that big fuckin’ mouth of yours is always gettin’ you in trouble! I did what I had to do. The guy was a total fuckin’ prick, and like I told ya earlier, he put his fuckin’ hands on her.”

Tommy playfully pushed his brother away. Well, he attempted to but Joel’s grip was pretty damn strong. “Okay, okay! I yield! I yield! Lemme go! C’mon big brother, I was only messin’ with ya!” Tommy pleaded with him.

Joel gave him a knucklehead sandwich as he messed up the younger Miller’s hair before he finally released him.

“Seriously though, are you alright Joel? No silly talk I promise.”

Joel let out a deep sigh as he sunk back into the passenger seat and scrubbed his hand down his face. “Yeah, I’m alright. I just..I probably shouldn’t have punched him in the face. He had it comin.’”

“I mean, yeah. You probably shouldn’t have punched him in the face. I ain’t one to judge ‘cus I woulda done the same thing.”

Joel looked over at him shaking his head a little. “I guess the only thing I’m worried about is if Clover is upset with me..I think she is and I can’t really blame her but at the same time, I don’t want her to be upset with me.”

“Yeah man. I get you. Listen, before we get into this deep brother to brother talk, how about we go and pick up some burgers and beers, and park somewhere n’just relax for a minute. Does that sound like a good plan to you?”

“Like what we used to do in highschool after football practices, and when your prom date ditched you senior year for what’s his name? Brett somethin?’” Joel was snapping his fingers as he tried to remember the running back that stole Tommy’s date.

“Brett-go-fuck-yourself-date-stealin’-rotten-son-of-a-bitch.” Yeah, I remember him. That was the first night you and I really talked too. Like, on a deeper level. Shit, didn’t we go and egg his house afterwards too?” Tommy looked over at his brother with a big grin. It was nice to reminisce on the past.

“Yes! It was like what, three in the mornin’ or somethin?’ God, if Ma would have known what we were doin’, she woulda killed us.” Joel chuckled.

“Best part of the whole thing was Brett’s sister felt sooo bad for what had happened that she personally apologized by givin’ me a blowie in my truck the followin’ weekend. ‘Oh, Tommy! I’m so sorry that my mean brother stole your date like that let me just suck’—”

“Okay, now you’ve just gone and ruined the moment. Jesus Christ, Tommy. Is there ever a moment where you’re not thinkin’ of sex?” Joel asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Pssh. Of course there are moments where I’m not thinkin’ about sex! I’m not a total imbecile y’know.” Tommy shot him a playful wink as he started the ignition.

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t too sure about that bein’ true Tommy.”

“Oh my gosh, are you..are you callin’ me a whore?” Tommy looked over at him in disbelief, with his hand across his chest.

Joel gave him a ‘are you serious?’ look before he rolled his eyes. “Uh huh. That’s exactly what I’m callin’ ya. You’re a whore and you’re proud of it too.”

The Miller brothers went to their favorite drive through joint in town. They each got a burger, fries, and 2 beers to go. They pulled up to their old highschool and parked near the football field.

Tommy put the radio on low while he inhaled his burger and fries. The summer air was warm, and there were fireflies flashing all over the pitch black football field. ‘Take On Me’ was crackling through the old radio system.

“Hey, Tommy? Uh..how soon is too soon to tell someone that you love them?” Joel asked with uncertainty laced in his tone.

Tommy slowly turned his head to look at his brother. He blinked a few times as he processed the 4 letter word that Joel hadn’t uttered in years. “Uh..are ya feelin’ alright big brother? You ain’t got a fever or somethin’ do ya?”

“For fuck sakes Tommy. Don’t look at me like that. I just—is it too soon?”

Tommy reached for his beer in the nearest cup holder and took a big swig as he sank back into the old worn leather on the driver's seat. “Alright, so it’s undeniable that you two love each other. Anyone with two goddamn eyes can see that. However, I think you just need to take a step back for a moment, and calm down a little. I don’t wantcha jumpin’ the gun and confessing your undying love to her.”

“You..think she loves me too? I ain’t gonna go and confess my undyin’ love for her. Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Joel, of course she loves you. I just don’t want to see ya hurt. Not that Clover would ever hurt ya or anythin’ but as your brother, I gotta look out for ya. I love you too much to see you hurt again. I just wanna see you happy Joel.” Tommy was genuine with his words of course. He loved Joel dearly and he truly did just want his brother to be happy.

“I love you too, Tommy. Even when you annoy me half the fuckin’ time. I’m not gonna do anythin’ irrational I swear. It’s just that..well, the last time I cared about someone this much was—”

“Sarah’s mom. I know Joel. I was there, remember?”

“I wish I didn’t remember honestly. It was such an ugly situation for me. Comin’ home and seein’ all her shit gone. Our bedroom empty. She didn’t even leave a fuckin’ note.” Joel bit back his bitter tears from spilling as he remembered the night he came home to an empty bed.

“I never saw you cry so much in my fuckin’ life…I wanted to cry for you.” Tommy softly admitted as he reached over and gently squeezed his brother's shoulder.

“Thank god Sarah was just a little thing at the time..she didn’t understand what was goin’ on. Remember the look on the neighbor's face when I was drunk n’sobbin’ in the front yard? Good times. Good fucking times.” Joel laughed pathetically.

“Hey, listen to me okay? Yeah, that was a real dark fuckin’ time for you. My heart broke for you, and Sarah that night. You got somethin’ good now, Joel. Somethin’ real good. You ain’t ever gonna cry like that again. Alright?”

Joel sniffed as he wiped at his nose and looked over at him. “She won’t hurt me like that. She’s too kind to do that. Too gentle, too wonderful. The loveliest person that I have ever had the privilege of knowin.’” He was teary eyed as he looked at his brother. These weren’t sad tears; these were tears of relief.

“Nah. She’s a dime in a dozen. ‘Special in every way. Now please shut up before you make me cry too. I’m too fuckin’ pretty to cry!” Tommy jokingly said.

“So what does that make me? An ugly crier? I see how it is.” Joel teased.

“The ugliest crier of all fuckin’ time.”

“Shut your whore ass mouth up, Tommy. That was mean.” Joel said with a grin.

It was nearing 3a.m when Tommy drove Joel back to the barn so he could pick up his truck. “Hey lover boy? You drive straight on home. Don’t stop at her apartment, cause I know you’ll be tempted to. Just give her some space to breathe, and you can see her in the mornin.’”

Joel twirled his own keys between his fingers as he went to open the passenger door. “Alright. I’ll drive right on home. I won’t go to her apartment. I’ll call her in the mornin’ or somethin.’”

Tommy thought it was a little suspicious that Joel wasn’t trying to fight him on this. Regardless of his suspicions, he decided to trust his brother. “Alright. Text me when you get home then, alright? I’ll be at Ryder’s.”

“At this hour? Well, you have yourself a good time with her Tommy. Tell her I say hello.” Joel gave him a little nod before he slipped out of the driver's seat.

“Well, uh yeah. She’s my girlfriend, and we love to have late night sleepovers.” Tommy said with a grin.

“Girlfriend? Congratulations, baby brother. She’s a lucky lucky gal.”

“Nah, I’m the luckiest man. She’s amazin.’” Tommy was just as lovestruck as Joel was.

Both Miller brothers waved goodbye as they drove off in separate directions. Of course..Joel didn’t keep his word on driving straight home. He had to go and make sure that you were okay. It was going to eat him up inside if he didn’t.

So that’s how your Texas tall glass of water ended up standing outside your apartment at 3 in the morning. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans after he knocked on your door.

He was just about to head back down the steps after a few minutes when he heard the front door creak open and your soft voice drifting through the calm balmy summer air. “Joel?…what are you doing here? It's like..3 in the morning.” You were rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you leaned against the door jamb, wearing nothing but Joel’s t-shirt and a pair of panties.

“Baby?..hey, m’sorry. I know it’s late. I didn't mean to wake ya. I just..I wanted to make sure you were okay after everything that happened..” he sheepishly whispered as he stood with his hands still shoved in his pockets.

“You drove all this way..to make sure I was okay? Joel, baby. You’re exhausted. Do you..do you want to come in for some tea?” You looked up at him through sleepy lashes.

“Yeah, I’d love to come in for some tea..” Joel gave you a small hesitant smile as he stepped inside your quaint apartment, taking his boots off by the doormat as you closed the door softly.

“What kind of tea do you like?..” you padded past him into the kitchen as you grabbed the kettle and filled it up with water. “I have mint, sleepy-time, hibiscus, chamomile..and like anything your heart desires.”

Joel set his phone and other personables down on the coffee table after he texted Tommy and let him know he got home safely. “Sleepy-time is one of my favorites.”

“Mine too.” You grabbed two mugs and started the kettle on the stove. There was a fallen silence between the two of you as you waited for the kettle to boil. Once it was ready, you steeped the tea bags in the mugs before bringing them over. You gently handed Joel his mug before sinking down on the couch beside him.

You each took a few small sips before Joel broke through the ice. “Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. I’m not a violent person..and punching your ex in the face like that was pretty fuckin’ stupid of me. I understand if you..need some space from me or somethin.’ I can’t blame you if you do.”

You rested the mug between your palms as you looked over at him. “Joel..I don’t want any space from you, okay? That’s not what..I don’t want you to think that all of a sudden I don’t want to see you anymore. I promise you that’s not what’s happening here. Am I upset that you..acted in violence? Yeah, I am. It’s something that I don’t condone. However, I’m not mad at you. I know why you did what you did, but you can’t let people get to you like that. Logan is an instigator. That’s how he always has been. He just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

Joel slowly looked over at you as he took another sip of tea. “Okay..I just, I wanted to make sure because if you did want space, I would 100% give it to you darlin.’” He reached over with his free hand and gave your exposed knee a gentle squeeze. “I know I shouldn’t have let him get to me. It’s just that when I saw him grab you like that..I just couldn’t hold back. I’m sorry. I don’t want to scare you or anythin.’”

You gently rested your head against his own with a soft sigh, wrapping your hand around his bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey, I know you would give me space if I asked for it, cowboy. I’m not scared of you at all. The situation just..it got out of control super fast. I know you’re not a violent man Joel. It would take a lot for you to scare me away.”

Joel kept his hand gently resting along your knee, brushing his fingers across the underside of it before he was coaxing your legs to rest along his lap. “Okay, I’ll try and not dwell on it too much. I’m glad we could have this conversation. Tommy told me I should wait till tomorrow..but I get anxious over these things. I also truly just wanted to make sure you were okay, baby. I could have called, texted, but I needed to see you in person.” His hands were gently massaging your calves now as they were draped over his thighs.

You let your back rest along the pillows on the couch comfortably as he massaged your calves. You knew that Joel Miller presently had multiple love languages. Acts of service, physical touch, and words of affirmation. This combination felt like a warm cup of tea, doused in sticky sweet honey that melted on your tongue. “I was going to call you earlier. I just didn’t know if you needed space as well. So, I ended up calling Ryder over and she came and hung out with me for a few hours. I’m really glad you came over. I wanted to make sure that you were okay too.”

“I’m glad I went against my brother’s words. My gut was tellin’ me to come and see ya. The tea is just a wonderful added bonus.” He softly chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad you went with your gut. Although, Tommy is probably gonna disagree. I can butter him up for you.” You softly giggled.

“Butter him up? Nah, I’ll handle him. Besides, I don’t need my girl butterin’ up my little brother. He’s got enough ego boostin’ as it is. How about you save that butterin’ up for me? You got any to spare?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you playfully causing you to snort tea up your nose.

“Is that an innuendo for?..” you giggled as you wiped away the stray drops of tea from under your nose.

Joel was as red as a fire hydrant now as he looked over at you and shook his head vigorously. “Dear god. I gotta stop spendin’ so much time with my brother. He’s rottin’ my damn brain from the inside out.” He nervously chuckled.

“Oh baby, don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay. Besides, I was just messing with you.” You shot him a playful wink. “You wanna finish watching the episode of Friends that we left off from last time?”

“With you? Absolutely. Put it on and get nice and comfy.” He grabbed your mug from your hands gently and set it along the coffee table before he pulled you into his strong arms so you could fully rest your body along his chest.

You fell asleep after halfway through the episode with your cheek comfortably resting against his chest, right where his heartbeat lay, and his fingers gently playing with your hair.

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[lovincherries]

yeah i am going to need part 2 of just the tip omg

Just the Tip Pt. 2

summary: part two of my other imagine, Just the Tip, kind of angsty but not really. reader comes off obnoxiously pure, i know. BUT it’s to go along with the innocent theme

A/N: omg you read my mind!!! I still haven’t edited the first one lmao, so there are still grammatical errors; however, someone has to write Elvis smut. I’m not gonna lie, I have no plan, I just make stuff up as I go along. NOT PROOF READ! Sorry I just wanted to make sure I got it out today.

Warnings: maybe dubious consent? kinky, dirty, nasty, freaky, all the good stuff! breeding kink

Part Three

It had been days since you had last seen Elvis, since he took your innocence. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t hurt a little at the thought. You understood he was working on some songs at the Sun Studio, but you wished you could meet up for even just an hour. You had been walking around with this guilt in your chest, that you had done the worst thing imaginable in the world. He said he would marry you, said he would love you for the rest of his life. Could he though? His career was just beginning and there’s no way a girlfriend could be good for it, let alone a wife. 

It was 12 am and you were wide awake with your thoughts in your room, you missed Elvis dearly. There was a faint knocking sound coming from your window that distracted you, you looked over and of course it was him. Although you were happy to see him, you were angry too. He didn’t even call you, didn’t even ask you how you were the next day. Nonetheless, you let him in your room. That was something you would always do, let Elvis in no matter what.

“Hey baby, I missed you more than anything in this world,” he said, reaching in to grab your hips and kiss you on the cheek. “I love this little night dress number you’ve got on, can make a man go week in the knees.” He smirked, that god damn smirk, you just looked away in disbelief. 

“What’s the matter baby? How are you feeling?” He cupped your cheeks in his hands, engulfing your face. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you thought of how you’ve been feeling.

“I can’t believe you, now you ask? I was in pain the next day and there was no one there for me,” you managed to choke out, your voice cracked but you were not going to cry.

“I’m so sorry darling, I know I messed up. I should’ve called, should’ve been there for you. I’ve been working so hard so I can put a ring on the pretty little finger,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You felt guilty now, he had been working so hard for you. He promised he would marry you after taking the one thing that society deemed you valuable for, your virginity.

“Really?” you asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. 

“Yes, I wanna give you my last name. Y/N Presley has a pretty nice ring to it, don’t you think?” He asked, looking down at you. You nodded your head in agreeance.

You sat with him and talked for an hour listening all about his songs, letting him lay his head in your lap. He was letting his hand get dangerously close to your private parts again, a part of you longed for him to touch you there but the other part of you knew it was bad news.

You moved his hand away from you, letting the moral part of you win.

“C’mon darling, it ain’t nothing we haven’t done before. It felt real good for you the first time, right?” He asked, but it came out as more of a statement. 

“But, Elvis, you know I wanted to save myself for our wedding night. Plus, if we do it again, I could get pregnant,” you countered. He had convinced you that since you never had sex before that night, you couldn’t get pregnant. Your parents had guarded you from everything, you knew bits and pieces but all your information came from him. And you trusted everything he had to say fully. He lied straight through his teeth; he didn’t want you to worry with the very real possibility. 

“We have to practice to get good, I want our wedding night to be perfect. Don’t you?” He rhetorically asked, he knew it would only take a little convincing. Deep down you wanted it just as much as he did. “Plus, I won’t finish in you. I promise.” Another lie, he just couldn’t help himself. You looked down at his pants and you could see his penis rising. You now knew what that meant, he wanted you. It felt good for him to want you like that.

His hand was under your dress now, his fingers playing with the hem of your underwear as he talked. As he convinced you.

“Okay, but we can’t wake up my parents,” you demanded this. If they walked in on you and Elvis, you would never be allowed to see him again and you would probably be sent to live with your aunt who never got married.

“They won’t hear a thing,” he smirked again, you knew that look on his face. It was always trouble. He kissed you, grabbing the back of your neck and bringing you in. It was a slow and passionate kiss, so very different from the other night. You don’t know what came over you, but you moved so you were sitting on top of him. Your most sensitive part placed on his. He deepened the kiss now, his hands finding their way to your hips. He used them to guide you, to grind on to him. You let out a moan, you could feel him through his pants. Your shear underwear had no real coverage, he just kept bumping your clit.

His hands now moved to grab your butt, gripping it harshly as you now mimicked the movements. “So perfect, Y/N. Never in my life,” he said as he flipped you over, so he was now on top of you. It felt all too familiar like this.

He hovered over you as he began to lift your night dress up over your head, you weren’t wearing a bra, so your nipples were hard as they felt the cold air. The bruises he left on your breasts were still there from last time, marking you as his. 

“When we’re married, you won’t wear clothes around the house. Want to see you like this all day, every day,” he whispered as he was kissing down your neck. He pinched your nipple in his hand and it caused you to squirm. You felt bold now, and you began unbuttoning his shirt with shaky hands. Despite last time, you were unfamiliar with everything like this. You knew it felt good, but you knew it was so, so wrong. His tan skin was smooth to the touch, just seeing him like this was so erotic. His dark hair fallen over his face, his lips swollen from kissing you.

He began to kiss down your body till he was face to face with your prívate parts, something to obscene. You didnt know what he was going to do next, but you knew no matter what he did it would feel good.

He slowly took your underwear off, and his face lit up like he was looking at gold. “Such a pretty pussy baby, can’t believe you kept it from me for so long,” he mumbled as he got closer and closer. You gasped once his lips reached your clit sucking on, lightly tugging at it with his teeth.

“T-that’s a bad word,” you managed to moan, it was the nastiest word out there and he said it. He just smiled and continued on, but he brought his finger to your entrance. It was still slightly sore from last time, it was such a big stretch in such a tiny hole. He began to slowly push one finger in, pumping it in and out slowly. Making sure you were accustomed, that you could fit him this time too. You were more tense this time, you knew what he was going to do.

He pulled away from you clit, “so tight baby, holding onto my finger for dear life,” he joked. Joking did not seem appropriate to you in a time like this, it wasn’t funny.

“O-oh my god, Elvis,” you moaned as he continued pumping his finger into you, faster and faster. He began to play with your clit as well. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this feeling, the pleasure, or the feeling of being invaded. You began to buck your hips as he continued to press harder into your clit. If you could open your eyes, you know what you would see, a smug look on his face. And then, all of the sudden he stopped.

The sudden absence of his finger cause you to open your eyes, you were slightly agitated if you were being completely honest. He was off the bed now, and he began to unbutton and unzip his pants, god in that moment you felt just completely in awe of him. That smug look he has on his face, how he looked so hot with no shirt on, and just how dominating he looked. He was unbelievably attractive.

He was completely nude now and you were able to really look at his penis. Only one word came to your mind, beautiful. You had no clue what anyone else’s looked like, but surely it would never compare to his. It was unbelievably, intimidatingly big. You hadn’t had time to worry the last time you and him did the do, but now you do.

He began to slowly crawl on the bed, kissing up your body as he did. Peppering you with his love. Once he reached your ear, he whispered, “jus’ aching for ya.”

He had no idea how you were aching for him, you had never thought you would feel this way for anyone, ever. How could you resist him though?

You watched as he guided his shaft between your folds, letting his tip meet your entrance. Your breathing picked up, nervousness arising.

He began to kiss you as he entered, both of you releasing a gasp from the feeling. He had only put just the tip in, giving you a moment to adjust before continuing.

“It was like you were made for me,” he moaned in your ear as he pushed in more, it was still stinging as he continued. Your walls were engulfing him.

He soon bottomed out, staying in the position for what feel like hours but it was just mere minutes. It was a sting, but nothing compared to the last time.

“Elvis,” you whispered.

“Hmm,” he replied, eyes closed tight in concentration. He was trying not to move, “tightest pussy I’ve ever had. never in my life, feels so good,” he rambled.

“Start moving,” you interrupted, bucking your hips trying to push him to start moving.

He did, slowly he pulled out so he was just barely in you, and then he thrusted back in, hard. You gasped as his tip hit your cervix, it was a crazy, full feeling.

He reached down between the two of you and continued to play with your swollen, sensitive clit. The feeling combined caused you to see stars, it was overwhelming and powerful. It was so overwhelming you didnt even hear what he was saying, “gonna be my wife and have all my babies, want you to be full of me. Let all those other boys know youre taken,” he murmured mindlessly, drunk off of you.

He kept thrusting harder and faster, continued to play with your clit just the same. “Talk to me baby, how you feeling?” He cockily asked, he knew how you felt. Your head thrown back in pleasure, you truly couldn’t talk. Thank god your bed wasn’t loud or else you would be screwed.

“I-i,” was all you could manage, you wanted to tell him this was even better than last time but you couldn’t.

“Tell me or I’ll stop,” he thrusted harder, played with your clit more if it was even possible.

“A-amazing,” you breathed out, you were stuttering and barely managed to form a sentence. He just kept going, and going. You began to squeeze him with your walls, milking him, tempting him. This threw him off his high horse.

“G-god,” he moaned as you continued to squeeze the life out of him. You both looked down to see how you were connected, how easily he slid in and out of you, how it looked like you were made for him.

A ball was forming in your stomach, just like last time. This was a feeling you wish you could experience all the time, how you lived without it before you didn’t know.

“Gonna fill you up, try my best to make you a mama. You’d be such a good one, tend to my babies,” he whispered in your ear. You were too into your own pleasure to even begin to acknowledged what you were saying. You felt him quickening his pace, you were on the verge of spilling over.

He started thrusting harder too, hitting you at just the right spot. He began moaning in your ear, you knew he had to be close. You forgot about your parents, your parents be damned. This felt too good to stop.

“Bout to bust,” he grunted. Sweat was dripping off of him onto you. You pulled his face to kiss you down to you, both of you moaning as it continued. It was dirty, raw, and messy. Everything you came to love about Elvis, he was the polar opposite of you.

“I-I’m, bout to finish,” you managed to moan as he kissed down your neck. Sucking at your skin, lapping at it.

Then it hit you, a raw, pleasurable feeling. It was like you were seeing stars, totally, blissfully unaware of anything. You were just moaning uncontrollably. You were so into your own pleasure you didn’t even notice Elvis had finished as well, didn’t even notice the warmth overflowing. He had promised not to, so why would you think otherwise?

He collapsed on top of you, head laying against your breast. You didn’t even think about him finishing, the thought never crossed your mind. He stayed inside of you, making sure nothing escaped.

You played with his hair as he slept, you knew you couldn’t stay like this. Your parents were bound to come in your room in the morning, and if they found Elvis in here, it would be the end of you and him.

You could no longer keep your eyes open either, blissfully unaware of what the love your life did. Now you were bound to him, nothing could come between you. Not your daddy, not your momma, and certainly not your morals. Your ring laid in his pocket, which is what he came over to give you; however, he got a little distracted.

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@kittenlittle24

#austin butler elvis #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #Elvis smut #Austin butler smut #Austin butler #Austin butler imagine #smut #dubious #hottt #hot #sexy #steamy #Elvis Presley smut #Elvis imagine #Elvis Presley imagine #elvis movie

[wildemaven]

A Cut Above

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Hairstylist!Reader

WC: 2680

Warnings: T; Mentions of food, divorce, lots of pining and fluff otherwise.

A/N: I wanted to write a Hairstylist!Reader story a few years ago, but l wasn’t feeling super confident about my writing and just never got around to it. In the last few months I’ve had this urge to get back behind the chair again, which is what sparked this fic. Still haven’t decided if I will get back into doing hair as of yet, but I can enjoy writing about it. This is not beta’d and hope it reads well cause I’ve been run low sleep. Enjoy!!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist / Next

“You done for the day?”

The question pulls you from your thinking. It’s an organized chaos of mental notes streaming through your subconscious.

“I wish. I have one more then I’m done. It’s a new client too. So I’ll be a bit longer.”

“Color?”

“No, thank god! I don’t think my feet can take another 2 to 3 hours more.” The day was filled with back to back clients— a typical Saturday in the salon. Your clients who worked long hours, were always filling up your Saturdays. “Just a cut. Benny made the appointment for him, said his friend was in need of a change— very vague about it”

“Mmm.. Benny.”

“Earth to Hannah!! Gonna need you to touch back down girlie.” Hannah was the salon receptionist, and Benny Miller’s secret admirer.

“Huh? Oh sorry, got a bit distracted.”

“You don’t say? You know, you could just ask him out, would probably be way more exciting than sitting there and daydreaming about him 24/7.”

“I do not daydream about him 24/7–“ She tries convincing you, but you know her far too well. You shoot her a pointed look— you’re not buying it. “Okay! Alright, I do think about him— a lot! But I can’t help it, he’s so…”

“Pretty?” You finish her thought.

“Yeah. He’s so pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that said Pretty Man Child Benny, might have an itty bitty crush on a cute little receptionist. So, put your big girl panties on and make a move.”

Benjamin Miller— Benny, was a long time client of yours, turned friend. He was in your chair every 5 weeks maintaining that gorgeous head of hair. Gotta look good for the ladies when I’m in the ring— his words.

As the years went on, you found you were collecting Benny’s friends and family as clients. His older brother Will, Will’s wife Nicole, his close friend Pope (still haven’t heard his real name), as well as Mom and Dad Miller. Benny kept your chair busy and you were grateful for that.

He’d text you on Monday saying he’d had a friend who was needing a cut, something about a fresh start. He was in luck because you had one spot open, so you scheduled some guy named “Fish” as your last client for the week.

“Wait really?! He knows who I am?!” Shock was written all over Hannah’s face.

“Hannah, you greet him every appointment— of course he knows who you are.”

“I think I black out the minute he walks through the door.”

“That would explain the drool every time.” You can’t help but laugh at her expense.

She rolls her eyes back at you as she gathers her things from the front desk. “Alright, I’m going to leave before you decide to carry on with this onslaught of nonsense. Going to go home and pour myself a glass of wine in celebration!”

“Celebration?? For what?”

“Benny Miller knows who I am! And he has a crush on me!!” You let her bask in her glory, as she all but floats to the front door.

“Hannah…” You catch her attention before she’s exits. “Text him! Preferably before the wine.”

“Yes mom!” She mocks back at you before the door swings shut.

*

You had 15 minutes until your appointment would be showing up, so you took the time to clean your station up a bit and set up for his hair cut.

Your shears, combs and clippers laid out on your hair cutting tray, clean cape folding on top of your station.

As you were checking over your schedule for next week, making a list of colors you needed to pick up from the beauty supply, the front door opened welcoming your client— your very handsome client.

He looks nearly 6 feet tall, and so broad. His hair is dark chestnut from what you can see peeking out from under his hat. There’s a casualness to him in the way he carries himself— a shy confidence.

“Hi! You must be Fish.” You give him your name as you make your way up to him, extending your hand out in greeting. His rather large hand gripping yours, firm but a gentleness to it.

“Did he really tell you my name is Fish?! Fuckin’ Benny.” He shakes his head, as if to fain off embarrassment. Shoving his hands in his pockets he starts laughing about it. “Yeah, he did. I am assuming that’s not actually your name though. Although, not judging if it is.”

“No, my name is Francisco Morales, but you can call me Frankie.” You notice the flush creeping up his neck— you make a mental note at how gorgeous he is before you get caught staring.

“Okay then, Frankie. You can come on back and have a seat here at my chair. Feel free to put your hat on my shelf there.” Helping him get situated.

“Let me go grab a clean towel and then we can chat about what you are wanting.”

Frankie sits himself down and starts to take in the space. You seem very tidy and organized as he glances over at your tray of cutting tools. He right away decides he likes that about you. Benny didn’t mention how beautiful you were when making him this appointment. He said you were pretty but he wasn’t expecting to be overwhelmed by how stunning you were— he knows he has to try his best to be cool and not ramble on.

He sees you making your way back to him in the mirror, his eyes locked on yours like magnets— he notices you catching him staring, but then you give him a smile that lights up your face. There’s that butterfly sensation tickling his insides, he hasn’t had that happen in a long time, but he welcomes it.

*

Arriving back to your station you take the small towel and place it on his shoulders before securing the cutting cape around his neck.

“So what are we thinking?” You ask as you begin to run your fingers through his hair, taking in the texture, density and the shape of the cut he has now.

“Uhh, I umm… I don’t know. I’m open to your professional opinion.” He didn’t realize he needed to come in with a style in mind. His usual barber usually says “Hi” then starts hacking at it.

“That’s okay.” You look at him in your mirror, his eyes already fixed on you and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

You hadn’t noticed his dimple earlier, and you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of it when he smiles. You steady your thoughts and continue to comb your fingers through his hair making note of how it lays and it’s natural growth pattern.

“You have a nice wave going on. If we work with it and bring your sides and the back in a little tighter the top will lay nicely.”

He’s captivated by everything you’re saying, and yet he doesn’t understand a single word of it. You could tell him he needed to shave his head and he’d willingly let you, no questions asked.

“How does that sound Frankie??”

“Honestly— I have no idea what any of what you just said means, but I trust you.”

“Well, I appreciate your honesty.” You find his nervousness charming. “You won’t be losing much length overall, it will be more shaping and connecting the sides to the top.” Your hands moving around his head as you try to explain your process.

“Again— no clue what you just said.”

“Got it! Enough hair jargon then. Let’s get you back and washed up first.”

The warm water hides the sweat that’s formed on your palms as you begin washing his hair. He’s settled into the shampoo bowl, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest in such a kicked back manner.

Your fingers work diligently as you begin to scrub the soapy liquid through his wet locks. As you spend ample time working over his scalp, you catch the sound of a faint moan. You don’t think he meant for it to sound so erotic, but it’s stirring a warm feeling with in you.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmhmmm..” It’s all he’s able to manage, your movements awakening him in so many ways, his spine vibrating with an indescribable desire.

Suds throughly rinsed, leave in conditioner combed through, you both get situated back at your station.

He seems way more relaxed, more chatty and asking questions as you go section by section, meticulously trimming away the unwanted ends.

His questions alternated between your professional life and personal— where you grew up, favorite food and what made you decide to become a hairstylist. In a different circumstance, it might have felt invasive— but there was an ease to Frankie that had you spilling your life story to him so freely.

In return you asked him for more about himself. He shared about his life in Delta Force, where he had met Benny, Will and Pope, who you now know as Santiago.

His life as a helicopter pilot keeping him busy most of the time. He even felt brave enough to mention his semi recent divorce. You didn’t feel like you needed to delve deeper into his failed marriage, especially for only just meeting him.

You shared the same sentiment in working long hours and how it had you feeling overwhelmed at times, like you had less free time for yourself— mentioning you were working on trying to have more fun and go out. You shared how your former partners were always annoyed with you for being so consumed with work, the main reason you hadn’t been dating as much.

Checking and cross checking the length, you’re happy with how it’s shaping up.

“How do you normally style your hair? What are your go to products?”

He looks at you with the most sincere and confused expression, nervous to share his routine with you.

“Normally it’s just straight out of the shower, quick rubbing of the towel over it so it’s not dripping, then toss the hat on.” Pointing to the battered hat he’d worn in.

“Frankie! If there’s only one piece of advice you leave here with, please let it be that you never aggressively rub a towel over your hair again!”

He thinks he should feel embarrassed but there’s a sweetness in the way you share your knowledge with him— he will make a conscientious effort to gently pat his hair dry from now on.

“Since you mentioned you are usually throwing on your hat, it’s probably safe to assume there’s not much actual styling going on?”

“Uh, yeah… Not much styling. The least amount of steps possible is my go to method.”

“While the hat vibe is cute, I would not be doing my job if I sent you out of here wearing—”

“You think I’m cute?” He cuts you off. That dimple again making an appearance, his grin slightly laced in flirtation.

“Umm, yes.” Your face feels hot, the blow-dryer not helping much, as you try to remain calm and collected.

“Hm!”

Grabbing some product and applying a small amount to your palm, you begin to distribute it throughout his hair. .

“But I think without the hat is cute too. Easier to see all of your,” You gulp at your next admission. “Attractive features.” You giggle as you finish styling his freshly trimmed hair, each strand manipulated with such precision— the new length really does add to his handsomeness.

“You think I’m attractive too?” He says shifting in the chair, his gaze still steady on you.

“Oh wow, I’m really just letting my internal monologue run my mouth aren’t I?”

He shrugs with the slightest cock of his eyebrows in response.

“And now would be a good time for the ground to just swallow me up!” You groan, hands covering your face as you attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered.”

“So you think I’m cute now? We just going to spend the rest of the night confessing our new found feelings having only just met?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He states so casually.

The rest of his appointment is filled with more flirtatious banter, a connection that you’re both very much aware of— yet neither of you stating the obvious

“Thank you again.” Frankie says holding a bag of products he insisted he leave with, wanting to branch out from his usual “hat vibe”’as you called it— said hat’s bill tucked into the back pocket of his already snug blue jeans.

“So… Do you want to set something up for next time?” Pulling out your schedule, hoping that Frankie likes his cut, and you, enough to return regularly. “I think 5 to 6 weeks would be a good amount of time to see you again.”

“Actually— I was hoping I could see you sooner than that.”

“Oh! Okay. When are you thinking?” Slightly confused, you start scanning over the openings you have in the coming weeks.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?? I’m not follow— Oh! Ooooh!”

“Yeah….” There’s a budding nervous energy about him as you realize what he’s asking. “There’s this sports bar around the corner— the guys and I hang out there from time to time. Anyways, they have some great appetizers and craft beer on tap… If you’re open to it, we could, um go… Unless you have other plans…”

“Yes! I’d love to Frankie.”

“Yeah?!” His face instantly beaming with excitement.

“Yeah! Just let me clean and lock up real quick, then we can head out.”

*

Drinks and appetizers flowed into a moonlit walk back to your car— both of you stalling out your goodbyes.

“So, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Frankie says as his hand cups your cheek, his warm gaze fixed on yours. “I hope this isn’t too soon, but would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“Yeah.. I’d like that.” Leaning into him to close the gap, fingers carding through the nape of his silky waves.

Frankie’s lips all but crash into yours, the intensity growing from your own, eager for more of him. He nips at the plumpness of your lower lip, encouraging them to part for him. His tongue slipping inside your mouth and you can taste the bitterness from his beer still lingering.

A grip is established on your hip, his hand slowly moving around to your backside eliciting a breathy moan from deep with in you as the heated kiss escalates.

Laughter from a rowdy group of bystanders reminds you both of your surroundings.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away there.” Frankie rests his forehead on yours as he tries to regain his composure, his breath fanning across your cheeks— they’re no longer cold from the frigid air.

“Well, I most certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact, I look forward to you doing it again sometime.”

He places a kiss to your forehead, before exchanging goodbyes. He promises again to call tomorrow, and you’re already breathlessly excited for it.

Heater cranked up in your car, willing your body to adjust to the heat. You grab for your phone in your purse, pulling open your message app so you can send a quick text before putting the car in drive.

-Hey Benny, just wanted to thank you for setting that appointment up for Frankie. He’s a great guy! Super funny and hella charming.

-You sure we’re talking about the same Frankie?? 😉

-Funny! Anyways, I appreciate it and I’m looking forward to seeing him again!

-Oh! Hannah called, we’ve got a date next week!

-You be good to her Benny!

-Of course! No problem! Make sure you and Frankie thank me in your wedding toast 🍾🍾 Night!!

You roll your eyes at his last text before tossing your phone in to the passenger seat. The entire drive home you can’t get Frankie out of your head, wondering if he’d find you too eager to call him when you got home.

The decision made for you by the buzzing of your phone— Frankie’s name flashing on the screen.

Next

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

hi! do you have serennedy headcanons about luis and leon being parents?

Hello!! Of course I do omg are you kidding me!!!!!!! I have a whole tag on my main @wisecrackingeric-2 titled ‘DadSerennedyAU’ if you wanna see my own spin on the idea!!!!! ORRRR if you wanna read something from yet another incredibly talented artist and author I CANNOT recommend @mooseonahunt ‘s AU enough!!!! And I know the lovely @geddy-leesbian has made some posts on this subject also!!!!!!!

But in terms of Headcannons I have plenty!! I’ll put them below the cut to avoid clogging anyone’s dashes!!

Edit: THIS IS UH UM. V E R Y LONG. I WENT KINDA BUCKWILD WITH THIS ONE AHDNCHDNXUXJXJ SO UH PLEASE ENJOY I GUESS!!

• First and foremost they are t4t. Sorry I don’t make the rules (also. Look at my blog name HQNAHWNEHDNDUDJ /lh)

• I imagine it was probably Luis who wanted a kid- we don’t know much about Leon’s childhood other than the fact that his parents died (the very wonderful @highball66 has some more information on the backstory we DO have for him!!) and thus we don’t really have a good idea of what his relationship with his parents might’ve been- but Luis is the TOTAL opposite. We know from context clues that he had a really strong relationship with his Grandfather, who went as far as to encourage his love for science and the unorthodox in an incredibly strict Catholic environment, and it’s implied on some level that Bitores Mendez had some hand in helping raise him, so I can imagine that Luis is very attached to the idea of parenthood and would probably wanna be the same kind of man his Grandfather was to him!!!

• Leon???? Realistically???? Probably a whole lot more hesitant- like he almost dies on the job everyday there’s no way he’d feel fit enough to raise a kid. But also,,,,, this is resident evil and also fiction where we can do whatever the hell we want so hell yeah he comes around to the idea eventually!!!!!!

• Luis is probably accidentally VERY clingy with their kid/a lil overbearing during the toddler age. Everything he’s ever contributed to in his life has either hurt others or he’s destroyed it one way or another- and everyone he’s held closest to him dies in some way. And going off of the first point, he’s probably put a LOT of pressure on himself to be a good Dad like his Grandfather was, so that usually ends up with him hogging the baby HCNNSSNSJSNIS

• Leon, again similar to my last point, would probably have the opposite reaction where he has this gut instinct to keep his distance- like he’s worried if he gets too attached it’s all gonna be ripped away from him just like Sherry was all of those years ago. But I highly doubt either of their qualms last for very long- they’d talk things out and figure out something that works for the both of them <3

• They’d probably go with the same middle and last name as Luis- ‘Serra’ and ‘Navarro’. I know I keep repeating myself but Luis had a really good relationship with his Grandfather and his culture/heritage clearly means a lot to him (ie; the intro to Seperate Ways), so being able to keep that little piece of his history alive would probably mean the world to him <<33

• And going off of that, Luis is ALWAYS trying to encourage their kid to learn more about their culture and heritage- teaching them Spanish, cooking them traditional foods, etc etc etc and when Luis isn’t there to do it, Leon is always more than happy to do so <<<<<<33333

• Let’s be real,,,,,,, Leon is coming up with the cringiest baby names ever HXNEHENDUXNXU CMOOOOOON LOOK AT MR. WHERES EVERYONE GOING BINGO!!!!! But Luis probably isn’t much better BCNENWEJSJ I can easily picture him convincing Leon that noooooo Alonso or Miguel aren’t references to Don Quixote hahahahahaha omg what’re you taaaalking abooout. So anyways if it were a girl what about Dulcinea-

• I’m picturing them choosing to have a kid a lil bit later than most people (like,, late 30’s-early 40’s??? So not like they’re old or anything but it’s not like they’re having kids in their early 20’s yk HNCSHDNSJ) so for that reason in my mind they’d probably only want one kid

• Very predictable but they both read Don Quixote to their kid when putting them to sleep and/or they sing them lullabies in Spanish. Who here is surprised for that one certainly not me

• And once again WHO IS SURPRISED, the kid’s room is very subtly Don Quixote themed. Lil stuffed donkeys and windmill motifs everywhere you get it (<- normalest guy alive)

• Leon’s probably the one who does more physical activities with their kid- realistically, Luis is N O T surviving that knife to the back without some major lifelong injuries, so Leon’s the one who always carry’s their kid on his shoulders or swings him around when they’re playing etc etc

• I think Luis would be a lil sad that he isn’t able to join in on those kinds of physical activities, but he’d absolutely make up for it by taking their kid to work or teaching them general hands-on skills n stuff!!

• Leon ABSOLUTELY would wanna teach their kid self-defence as early as possible. He obviously mellows out and realises hey maybe teaching a 10 year old how to wield a knife is a Bad Idea, but with everything he’s seen in his life there’s no way he wouldn’t want his kid to know how to defend themselves at LEAST

• Wild-card one here but the three of them ABSOLUTELY take family trips to Madrid or other cities in Spain during the summer

• Last wild-card one but sometimes Luis will look at their kid and see his Grandfather so clearly he just starts fuckim bawlimg. Same with Leon. He sees the childhood he could’ve had and sometimes he’s gotta excuse himself to cry. Love these beautiful idiots

Tl;dr they would be very very wonderful parents who would love their kid with all of their heart and soul and you can put that headcannon from my COLD DEAD HANDS!!!!!!

#YEAH IM SO SORRY THIS ONES SO LOMG. WHOOSPIEDAISY. AUTISM MOMENT. #asks #DadSerennedyAU #serennedy

[rachetmath]

The Jaune BS

Hazel: Jaune I know you are upset but I assure you it 

Jaune: What? Hazel I am completely fine.

Hazel: Wait what?

Jaune: Yeah man. I'm glad. I'm finally done with this crap.

Adam: Damn man was it that bad?

Jaune: Bro my character kept getting violated in the show. Bro, volume 6, when I came up with a plan to steal an Atlas airship, I didn't even get a chance to lead the shit.

James: That was your idea. You endangered alot of people.

Jaune: shit still worked. Would have gone without a hitch if wasn't Blake's somehow abusive and obsessive ex-boyfriend showing up out of nowhere. 

Roman: How did you find her anyways?

Adam: I honestly don't know.

Jaune: Volume 7, I was training and learning to extend my aura. Even though a certain someone suggested it but never showed me how.

Vine: oh… I am so sorry.  

Jaune: That would have been useful in finding Oscar instead of an ability to read emotions.

Pyrrha: Wow Ren character development was very pointless.

Jaune: Exactly. 

Hazel: listen Jaune you're not the only one this show did dirty.

Jaune: Hazel for real.

Adam: You can't be serious right?

Roman: Mother of….

Hazel: What?

James: You died like a fucking hero. Even though you in ledges with the woman who wanted to end the world. Over your sister. 

Hazel: And?

Jaune: You beat up and tortured Oscar. And switch up all because he told you one simple truth. How are you the good guy?

Hazel: I saved him. Plus James tried to blow up millions.

Jaune: That's true. But that's because he went insane.

James: Sleepless nights. Betrayal. And isolation.

Penny: Yeah he was down bad.

Jaune: And don't get started on the fact they keep mixing me and Ruby's characters up too.

Pyrrha: How so?

Jaune: Pyrrha, I had to kill Penny. Before, I didn't save Oscar. Twice. Afterwards, I was alone on an island. By myself. WAITING FOR RUBY. WHILE SEARCHING FOR A WAY HOME! I basically failed to help or save anyone. I failed as a leader. How come my problems seemed more irrelevant to Ruby's. Who never had to kill anyone. Who plans somehow work out in end. While mine somehow BLOW UP IN MY FACE! 

Pyrrha: oh dear… that is horrible.

Jaune: And here's the crazy part. How come Ruby had her friends, a mice and literally a deemed goddess help her while I had nobody but a Jackalope. It took seeing the paper pleasers again for me to accept Penny's death.

Penny: but you had friend Weiss, Blake and Yang by your side. 

James: But they talked bad about him. 

Adam: And true enough they confronted him on the matter they didn't convince him. It basically just took talking with him. 

Jaune: At a bad time no less.

Penny: Yeah that is concerning.

Jaune: And at least Hazel died like a G. We died from stupidity. Well except Roman and Pyrrha.

Penny: Not true.

Roman: Penny your death was crazy. Like you just gave up after everyone's efforts to save you. All because of Ruby. 

Penny: I thought they were dead!

Jaune: yeah, so instead of living to honor her memory you just decided screw everything and let me kill you.

Penny: Yeah that does sound horrible.

Jaune: How were we friends?

Penny: … … I don't know.

Jaune: The only bad thing is I didn't even get my revenge on the cat. All those times hating Alyx met nothing. Then I get shot by one of my friends.

Alyx: Sorry again though.

Jaune: You good, and besides now that I'm gone I don't have to hear fans complain about me anymore. 

Adam: Yeah too bad though.

Jaune: Why? 

Adam: Cause we don't know if you are dead or not.

Jaune: So this is all a dream.

Adam: Maybe. We're just going have to find out. 

Jaune: *sigh* Damn it.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #Blake Belladonna #yang xiao long #Jaune Arc #hazel rainart #adam taurus #roman torchwick #pyrrha nikos #penny polendina #rwby alyx #james ironwood

[maynardmaniac07]

Hello!! I was wondering if you could do a cute

imagine about how you meet Tobi?!(and he is very flirty)  Maybe you are friends with freezy and he introduces them?! Please and thank you!!

Collide (Tobi Brown/Tobijizzle/TBJZL)

A/N: I can have a go, I hope you like it!

Y/N’s POV

I sign as I look up and the tall building in front of me

Finally moving to the big city of London

My best friend finally convinced me with his rambling that this would be the best place to get a job and move to

Who is my best friend you may ask?

Well the one and only Calfreezy

I’ve known Calfreezy for the longest time and we have been friends ever since we met

Not long after Freezy moved to the UK, we became neighbours

He was the annoying boy next door that I saw all the time and could never get rid of

He was like the brother I never had

When Freezy started growing on YouTube and made friends with other YouTubers, he decided that it was best to move to London and start networking

I on the other hand decided that I wanted to go to university and get a degree

From a young age, I haven’t really been sure what I wanted to do, so going to university was a big decision

I finally found my love for photography and decided that was the way that I wanted to go with my life

So fresh out of university, I decided to make the leap and move to London, not just so I could spend time with my best friend but to broaden my horizons

I contacted some companies, showed them portfolio and managed to get a internship with a big name company

I knew that I would need somewhere to live and I couldn’t think of anywhere better than the same building that Freezy had done nothing but bang on about since he moved in

Today was my moving in day and Freezy has no idea that I’m about to become his new neighbour

Just like old times

I take a deep breath as I walk into the grand building stood in front of me

I drag my suitcase behind me, whilst holding a box under my arm

I internally groan at the thought of having to go back to my car and grab some more boxes and carry them up to my flat

Suddenly I collide with another body and my box goes flying, along with the contents

As I hit the floor, my eyes go wide as I see the contents of my underwear box spread across the floor

“Shit, I am so sorry! Here let me help you pick things up” the males voice says as he kneels down and starts picking up the contents of my box

“No, no, it’s fine really, I will pick things up in a second” I say in a hurry as I get up and try to pick things but before he can notice what they are

I lift my head up and come face to face with the man that I recognised to be Tobi brown or TBJZL on YouTube, one of the Sidemen and also one of Freezy’s friends

He is much more handsome in real life

“I’m sorry for bumping into you, I think you dropped these” he says as he hands me a selection of bras and thongs

At this point, I just want the ground to swallow me up because Jesus Christ this is embarrassing

Shit, I know he is a man of god, so shouldn’t really take the lords name in vein

But then again, I’m saying this internally, so I don’t suppose that he will mind

“It’s ok, don’t worry! No harm done” I say before picking up the rest of the things and putting them back in the box

“I’m guessing by the box and suitcase, that you are moving in?” Tobi says gesturing towards my bag and box

I nod

“Yeah, I am a photograhy intern and I needed a place to live, so here I am! I’m Y/N by the way” I explain with a smile

“My best friend lives in this building and banged on about how amazing it is to live here, so I thought that i would surprise him” I continue to explain

“Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Tobi! Who is your best friend? Maybe I know him” He says

“Callum Airey, sorry you probably know him as Calfreezy” I say correcting myself

“Ahhhh yes, I know Freezy! I’m assuming that I’m you know Freezy then you will know who I am” Tobi says

I laugh at the statement

“Alright big head, yes I do know who you and the Sidemen are, I just didn’t want to seem like some kind of fan girl because after spending time with Freezy in public, I know what they can be like” I explain to him

Tobi nods

“Yes fangirls are lovely but It’s nice to not have people crowding you or in the older days screaming in you face” He says

I get what he means, when Freezy started to get big and the fangirls used to crowd us and could be all levels of crazy in public but just like the boys have, the fans are growing up with them and have mellowed slightly

I mean they aren’t like directioners but still they are fans non the less

“So I was actually down here just getting my post, but now I’m wondering if you wanted any help with your stuff?” Tobi asks

With a smug smile on my face, I say

“Well I think that is the least that you could do, considering my stuff was all over the floor after you bumped into me”

Tobi smirks back at me

“No the least I could do, would be for me to take you to dinner to welcome you to the building and the least you could do for me would be to allow me to see you in some of this underwear that I so kindly helped you pick up” he says

I let out a laugh

“Alright, I’ll let you take me out, but we will have to see about the underwear” I say as I hand him the box before making my way to the lifts

“Yeah, I guess we will” he mumbles as he follows me to the lift

I can see that me and Tobi are going to get on really well

Now time to go and surprise Freezy!

A/N: PLEASE REQUEST SOME IMAGINES

Masterlist

#tobi brown #tobi lerone #tobjizzle #tbjzl #simonminter #simon minter #miniminter #josh bradley #josh zerker #zerkaa #harry lewis #wroetoshaw #ethan payne #behzinga #olajide olatunji #jj olatunji #ksi #ksiolajidebt #vikram barn #vikkstar123 #sidemen #callum airey #calfreezy #youtube #youtubers #youtuber #one shot #sidemen imagines #imagine

[morvantmortuary]

sugar high -

(Hector Morvant-Casares x Reader)

summary: Hex invites you along for an afternoon errand.

warnings: brief descriptions of a depressive episode. a shit-ton of fluff. like, syrupy, frothy fluff. I’m not kidding. you watch your teeth.

general: for Spooky Season in the Barrens: apple cider, candy corn, skulls. 🍎💀

I’ll be honest, Hex is not usually my go-to fluff guy, but goddamn if he doesn’t have a whole mushy side when you let him talk a bit.

Any corrections on his Spanish are appreciated - I double-checked everything and tried to stick with Mexican localization, but I’m still learning. :’D

also, I know so much more about the making of calaveras than I did last week. hot damn, those can get involved. any suggestions or needed corrections there (or with any discussion of the holiday) are also appreciated.

reader is as always genderqueer/non-binary (but I stuck to feminine endings for Spanish bc those are what I’m more familiar with, sorry :’D), and I write them as bisexual but that’s not explicitly mentioned here. any tweaks to language so people can have a more seamless experience are always helpful.

okay, hope this helps brighten your day a bit. 🖤

You didn’t even have to look up from your book to know who was calling you, and wasn’t just texting like a normal person.

Without looking up from your page, you reached over and answered with the tap of one finger, then put him on speaker with another. “Who dares?”

“Hey, so, I’m madly in love with you. Do you wanna go out with me? Like, right now, or I’ll die of loneliness?” Hex said it like he was asking about the weather. The mustang’s motor purred in the background, and the faint thud of some dance remix on low drifted through your phone’s speaker like a tinny distant dream.

You smiled, closing your book and setting it beside you on your mattress. “Hmm. That depends.”

“Depends? Ouch. After my very sincere confession?” Hector laughed, making you smile wider. “Depends on what?”

“We-ell.” You stretched the syllable out as you stretched in turn, then collapsed back onto your pillows. “I’m very busy having a lazy afternoon, you see.”

Pale autumn sunlight danced in dappled patterns on your ceiling. You’d successfully managed to change from your pajamas to your comfiest sweats after taking a luxuriously long bath. This was only topped by the fact that you were currently cozy in a bed with a book that had been on your TBR for months, that you’d been swearing you’d get around to, for real this time.

“Is that so?” You heard the click of his turn signal, apparently not given pause by your demurring.

“Yes, and I’ve had it scheduled all week. I simply can’t cancel on myself again,” you explained, waving a hand lazily. “…Unless.”

“Te escucho,” Hex prompted. You heard him tapping on his steering wheel with his index fingers, restless. “Come on, lay it on me.”

“I could only be convinced to cancel on me if you had some really, truly spectacular, showstopping way to sweep me off my feet, that I just had to drop everything for right now.” You fought to keep your tone as serious as possible. “So this better be a really fabulous proposal, whatever comes next. Lots of pressure. Definitely overthink it.”

Hex sucked his teeth audibly, pretending to think. “Damn, I was just gonna ask if you wanted to go grocery shopping with me.”

“I’ll get my jacket.” You slid off your bed, stretching again from where you’d be laying there in a marathon session with your novel. “How close are you?”

He laughed again, low in his throat with that little bit of rasp that felt like his fingers in your hair. A second later, you heard the short beep of a car horn in your driveway.

“Oh, shit. Be right there!” You grabbed your phone off your bed and hustled now for the door to your room.

“Relax, baby, no hurry,” Hector said, his voice echoing slightly in your hallway as you moved. “Maxi just asked me to pick some stuff up for this pre-need thing he’s throwing tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You slid into your shoes where they were piled by your entry way, and then grabbed your bag for whatever wouldn’t fit in your pockets - charger, headphones, anything you’d want if you headed to his place after. “…What’s a pre-need again?” You topped all this off by pulling on one of Hex’s hoodies that you’d stolen from him ages ago, fitting you comfortably as it did every time. You’d have to sneak it back into his laundry soon, you knew — it was beginning to smell more like you than him.

“Ugh, don’t worry about it.” Hector sighed so loud you could almost hear his eyes rolling. “Basically lots of little old and anxious people start getting antsy and thinking about death in October, because skeletons, so he offers this afternoon thing where he teaches them how to set up all their funeral stuff in advance. Es hella aburrido, which is why he has to offer the free food.”

“Ah. That all makes sense.” You stepped outside and made a point to lock your door. Granted, Hex was the only person you could conceive of who had ever broken in - or who would ever want to break in - but still. Greymoon was a weird town.

One never knew what, exactly, was going to turn up as dusk claimed a larger and larger share of the hours.

You hung up the call as you pulled the passenger door open, leaning over to kiss him before you closed it. “So what all do you serve at a funeral tutorial-thing?”

“Oh, you know— hey,” Hector paused, eyeing your clothes critically before looking at you with theatrical levels of suspicion. “You told me you hadn’t seen that one.”

“What, this?” You feigned innocence, looking down at his hoodie. “Oh, I thought you meant your… other one.” The man had like ten, this wasn’t impossible. “Do you want it back?” You widened your eyes and pouted just the tiniest bit, certain he wouldn’t say no, but wanting to lay it on thick.

“Let me see.” He leaned over abruptly to take an exaggerated sniff of the hood and your hair, making you giggle and try to lean away. “Nah,” he concluded, sitting back up. “That needs another day.”

You were still giggling, adjusting the hood around your shoulders. “Another day for what?”

Hector took the car out of park, looking over his shoulder to pull out of your driveway even though he could do it in his sleep. “It needs time to get that good You smell in there. What is that, anyway? Perfume? Shampoo? Essence of angel?”

“Shut up, corn lord.” You swatted his shoulder, making him smile. “I only wear it as long as it smells like you, anyway.”

“Really? Aw. Sorry about that.” Hector grinned when you laughed again. One of his hands fell to its usual place on your knee as he pulled out onto the main road. “The hell do I smell like, anyway? Film developer and sadness?”

“No.” You intertwined your fingers together and squeezed his hand. “You don’t smell like sadness, Señor Artiste.”

Between Hex’s constant connection to the world after this one, his resulting insomnia, and his… already artistic temperament, you knew he occasionally had to fend off the depression that seemed to run in the Morvant line. Whereas Maxi diverted his restless version into constantly fixing and cleaning, and Rora’s manifested in squalls of anger and verbal venom, Hex’s ennui would lay him out flat for days — occasionally, weeks. You’d spent time before helping him excavate his bed from under piles of unfolded laundry that he’d just been sleeping around, and braiding his hair when he couldn’t find the energy to wash it. You knew he worried about letting you see him like this, and he’d confessed to you once during one of the worse episodes that he was scared it was too much to expect you to handle.

But just like the ghosts he channeled, it would eventually release him from its grip, and he would make a point to be just as sweet to you when it was your turn to deal with your inner demons.

“News to me.” Hector’s smile was a little more subdued now. “So, what, just film developer? Dusty house?”

“No, you smell like… hold on.” You held your free hand to your face, inhaling deeply from your sweater-paw. “You smell like… cinnamon. And coffee with chicory — like there’s any other kind down here.” You took another sniff, taking your time. “And something, like, incense-y? Is that from the viewing room?”

“Oh, nah.” Hex was quiet, and it stretched as you found yourself weirdly waiting for an answer.

He kept his eyes pointedly on the road and cleared his throat. “I keep some of the stuff my ma used to use in my closet. For emergencies.”

You blinked. Hector didn’t bring up that side of the family a lot. He didn’t really bring up either side, if he could avoid it, but definitely not hers. “Your mom burn incense a lot?”

“Yeah. Just for, like… ritual stuff. She was into that sort of thing.” He paused, and when the two of you were stopped at a red light, he lifted his steering hand to smell the hoodie he was currently wearing. “Weird. I’d totally forgotten it was up there.” He held it out and scrutinized it, as if to search for visible traces on the fabric. “Guess I’m just noseblind to it now.” He shrugged, but almost a little too hard. Like he was trying to shake off the idea.

You hesitated as the car pulled forward again, wanting to respect a sensitive topic, but still curious. “…What qualifies as an ‘incense emergency’?”

“Oh, the usual. One of the ghosts in the House gets too full of itself after a seance. Rora fucks up another taxidermy resurrection. Maxi gets a body for restoration that’s been in a car for a week.” He winked at you when you shuddered at the thought. “Any of the very sexy circumstances where you’d rather smell like something burning, or burning something beats something else in supernatural Rock-Paper-Scissors.”

“Yikes. I’ll keep that in mind.” There were a million more questions about it on the tip of your tongue, but you kept them in check as he parked in front of the smaller grocery store in town — the one that had the more unusual finds, depending on the season.

You were always slightly amazed at how he managed to pull the mustang in between some of the ridiculously large trucks that populated most Greymoon parking lots. Somehow, he always found a convenient spot for his little black car. Like magic, if magic could be used for something so mundane.

As the two of you got out, there was still the slightest shadow on his face as he closed his door. “So does that not, like, bother you?” When you gave him a confused look as you closed your own, he nodded to the hoodie. “I’ve had it in my closet forever; it must smell pretty strong.”

“Oh! No.” You circled around and wound your fingers through his again as he locked the car. “I like it, actually.” As the two of you headed inside, you found yourself swinging your hands together like a little kid; you were determined to lighten the mood back up to what it had been. “It’s layered with so much other stuff — your cafe con leche, your detergent, your developer. Your beard oil,” you added, which made him laugh sheepishly as the two of you passed through the automatic doors. “It just smells… I don’t know.” You racked your brain for the word. “Safe? Yeah.” You nodded. “You smell like home to me, you know? Now.” You wanted to keep talking, distract him from that earlier doubt with your current task. You scanned the aisles. “Do you have a list, or—“

You had to fight not to stumble when you were still walking and realized Hector wasn’t.

When you turned to check on him, he was looking at you with such soft, sincere eyes, you almost forgot the two of you had come to a stop next to a cluster of shopping carts.

Quietly, he lifted your intertwined hands to his mouth, kissing the back of yours with a sweetness that seemed all the more so in his silence.

You couldn’t look away, your own tongue once again tied.

It was one of those moments that he made you feel like you were the only two people left in the world.

“…’Shut up, corn lord,’” he echoed at last, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief as he watched you over your own knuckles.

“You shut up, whatever.” You felt your face grow warm in a way that had nothing to do with the indoor heating against the October chill, and stuck your tongue out at him. “You know what I’m saying.”

“I do. But I still like it when you say it.” He winked at you again, and this time there was a trace of the casual cockiness you’d seen when the two of you had first started flirting.

The difference was that now, you knew it was a front. Hex’s confidence was low key when it was genuine — a quiet, unflappable certainty.

He only played slick when how much he actually cared could overwhelm him entirely.

“I really mean it, Hex,” you protested quietly, squeezing his hand. “You have to know that by now.”

“And take that sweet shit for granted? Qué va.” But he still took his time letting go of you.

He sighed as he had over the phone, back to pretending this was a chore. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He shoved a hand in a pocket of his own hoodie and pulled out his phone. With a couple of taps, he pulled up what looked like a text chain — you could see “pinche maxi” as the contact, followed by three skull emojis. “Got the list.”

You muffled a laugh, not wanting to be caught snooping. “Basket or cart?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Hector jokingly looked at you like you were crazy, before nodding pointedly at something ahead of you. “This is absolutely a cart situation, Bonita, come on. Eyes on the prize.”

Puzzled, you followed his gaze - and grinned, realizing exactly why he’d picked this store.

The Halloween candy display on the far side of the room was massive… but the stock floor was blessedly deserted.

You and Hex whizzed across the vacant produce section — taking turns balancing on the cart and pushing the other person — with only a brief pause to pick up a pre-cut veggie tray.

“There,” he said, before hastily checking off multiple items on the list.

You looked from the list to the tray, positive you’d seen ‘carrots,’ ‘celery,’ ‘cherry tomatoes’ as separate items. “Yeah, that has those.”

“Maxi’s going to complain and say he could’ve done it all himself,” Hector sighed, placing it carefully in the cart. “But he forgets how fucking picky he gets about setting up the extra chairs and the projector in the parlor, and stuff. That, plus having to cut everything just-so and arrange it on his little crudité board? He wouldn’t have time.”

You shrugged. “He can still put it all on the board if he wants to. It’s not like they’re gonna know.”

“That’s the spirit.” Hector snapped and pointed at you. “Primo needs to learn about artfully half-assing stuff. He takes all this pointless detail shit too seriously.” He paused to turn back and pick up a similarly packaged collection of cut fruit. “See? Boom. He didn’t even have those on the list; I’m just that thoughtful.”

“Clearly.” You couldn’t resist a smile. “Okay, so what else?”

“Cheese,” Hector said, as if this were obvious. “You always gotta feed grief with cheese.”

“But I thought this was for planning their own stuff?”

“It is, but have you seen how expensive shit is lately? They’re going to be grieving their wallets.” Hector pulled the cart behind him towards the dairy section with you balanced behind the handle. “You thought groceries were bad, you should see getting buried.”

“But isn’t your cousin on that whole...” You squinted as you tried to remember, gesturing vaguely. “Somthing-something against funeral poverty?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean Louisiana isn’t still broke as shit. I swear to god, if it wasn’t for the damn House…” Hector sucked his teeth as he trailed off, staring down at two different cheese plates, then squinted at his phone. “Did he say…? Nah.” Seemingly satisfied, he picked up one of each and set them in the cart.

You raised an eyebrow. “Y’all expecting a big crowd?”

“Oh, hell no. We never get more than a few people at these things.” Hector looked at you, pointing to the plate with the slightly nicer variety. “That one’s for family.” He drew a loop in the air with his finger to rope you into the collective - something that still brought a bubbly warmth to your chest, even after you’d been dating this long. “We’re having that after, let the plebians have the cheap cheese.”

You laughed. “So glad I get to be included in the fancy cheese. I’m honored.”

“Only the fanciest of cheeses for you, mi amor.” Hex leaned up, giving you an obnoxiously loud kiss on the cheek. “Come on, we still need the important stuff.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s—” You were interrupted by your own delighted squeak as Hector rocketed with you and the cart towards the Halloween candy.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d giggled this much while just doing errands with someone. It had to mean something that you could leave your ideal day alone to go out and do something you normally dreaded, but still have more fun than your books could have ever promised.

Hector only just pulled you to a stop before any displays suffered an unfortunate collision, and you hopped off the back of the cart, the two of you sizing up the waiting shelves.

“Maxi said I could get Halloween stuff for this, but he said it had to be ‘tasteful’.” Hector gave the word some lazy finger quotes and rolled his eyes again. “Like I didn’t just see him buy one of those twelve foot skeletons. ‘It’s for the garden out back, Hex, it’s not the same’,” he quoted some little tiff they’d clearly had, doing a surprisingly good impression of his cousin’s accent around his own.

“So we’re definitely serving bleeding eye gumballs and gummy brains then?” you joked.

“I wonder if they still sell those plastic molds of hands.” Hector stroked his beard, pretending to ponder. “We could make ice hands with red food dye to put in the lemonade.”

“Crazy tasteful.” You nodded in agreement. “Or feet molds? Do they make those?”

“Ew, don’t be weird.” Hector gave you a look of fake disgust, making you both laugh before you split apart to browse in earnest.

“What about, like, mini chocolate bars? They’ve got like a million kinds.” You scanned the different shelves for the usual variety packs, finding a plethora of different groupings in brightly colored bags.

“You’d think, but no. Chocolate can melt and smear if people forget about it. And someone always forgets about it,” he added from the other side of the aisle, with a touch of that special exhaustion that comes from dealing with strangers. “And nothing that could’ve been remotely near peanut butter or nuts, Maxi said he needs a new epi-pen for the first aid kit.”

“Sure, fair. Can’t have anyone dying at the meeting about how to plan for dying. So that rules out…” You rotated slowly in place, taking stock of your options. “A lot.”

“Hey, that just makes my job easier.” Hector popped around an end cap, holding up two different versions of those holiday-themed marshmallows that had started solely as bunnies. “Skulls or ghosts?”

“For the thing or for us?”

“The thing.”

“Dude,” you laughed. “Like those little old and-slash-or anxious people won’t flip if we give them ghosts or skulls at a funeral planning seminar? You think they have enough whimsy for that?”

“Come on, it’s like, the whole reason we’re there. They gotta lighten up, man.” Hex rolled his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll just put them in the cart for after. Maxi can’t get mad at me if I bring him some, he loves this kinda shit.”

Your eyes fell on shelf of some old-fashioned candies. “Oh my god, I’m an idiot, this is so obvious.”

“How obvious?” Hector asked from the other side of the shelf.

You grabbed a bag of candy corn, inspecting the ingredients. “Nut-free factory! That’s a bonus!”

“Man, those poor factory workers.”

“Ugh, low hanging fruit.” You rolled your eyes, picking up another bag. “Come here.”

“Make me,” Hector teased, suddenly directly behind you.

“Jesus!” You whirled on the spot, startled at having not heard him sneak that close. “Behave.” You whacked his shoulder lightly with one of the bags you were holding.

“Jesus never behaved, that was like his whole deal.” Hector just plucked the bag from your hand, inspecting it before raising an eyebrow. “Candy corn?”

“What little old person doesn’t like candy corn?” You made an incredulous gesture with your free hand. “And like, these candy pumpkins.” You picked up a bag of the traditional pumpkins with the similar texture. “It’s classic for a reason.”

“Yeah, cultural indoctrination.” Hector smiled. “I can’t believe people actually eat this stuff willingly.”

“Oh, come on, it’s nostalgic as hell,” you said, placing the bags in his waiting hands. “It’s like being a little kid in your costume again.”

“Doesn’t mean it actually tastes good.” He nonetheless held still, tilting his head to look at the bag’s contents. “But sure, he can put them out in little decorative bowls or some shit, he loves those.”

You turned to set a last bag in his hands. “You honestly mean to tell me you don’t like candy corn?”

“I mean, I’ll eat it,” Hector said, sounding resigned. “But for the same reason as when I was small: because it’s there, and because it’s what we have, but not because I actually think it’s any good. Not that one,” he said, nodding to the last one you were holding. “We have enough.”

You frowned at the couple of bags in his hands. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, so at least there won’t be any leftovers.” You shrugged, then beckoned for him to follow you onto the next aisle.

“Are you kidding? The old people aren’t gonna make a dent in this, candy corn multiples the minute someone turns their back on it.” Hector followed you. “Don’t you know Halloween math?” He continued as you burst into laughter. “The same thing would always happen: Tia Mathilde would buy some candy corn, or those tiny pumpkins, and then the bowl in the kitchen would just keep refilling itself all season. It’d never get any emptier, even when I was sure the twins ate so much they were gonna puke.”

“Maybe she just kept buying more bags?” You looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. “Like how it works in the real world?”

“Nope, I’d check the trash whenever the bowl was full again!” Hector shook his head. “You watch, we’ll put this out, and then we’ll still be eating it until…”

You paused, turning once again to find Hector stopped behind you. “Babe?”

Hector didn’t answer, squinting at something on a shelf you’d passed.

“Something jumpscare you?” You walked back to peek over his shoulder.

“Yeah, those.” Hector nodded to a plastic box holding three small decorated sugar skulls.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t know they started selling those here.” You paused, surveying the surrounding products. “I didn’t realize they sold imported anything here, to be honest.”

“Those aren’t imported,” Hector said, nodding at the label. Sure enough, it was one of the generic store holiday brands. “They’ve just realized they can sell them and actually make some money. Check the piping around the eyes,” he gestured loosely with the corner of one of the bags. “There are people who work for months to get the decorative ones right, the legit shit. Even the ones you give kids to eat, they take their time with. That looks like someone put the icing on with their eyes closed.”

“Oh.” You leaned forward, inspecting for yourself. The piped icing to decorate the facial features looked very haphazardly applied, some of it smeared against the plastic during transport. “I see what you mean, yeah.” You glanced back at him. “It’s like, the opposite of artful half-assing. Half-ass art-ing.”

“I don’t think that’s even half an ass’s worth,” Hector said, smiling again when he made you laugh. It faded though as he looked back the store brand calaveras. “And they’re charging how much, for that quality? En esta economía? Hell,” he shook his head. “If that’s what people will pay around here for shitty ones, I should throw a bunch together and sell them at the House. Maybe be able to afford that new lens I want.”

“I didn’t know you knew how to make those,” you said, looking between him and the sad little skulls. “I mean, I should’ve guessed, what don’t you know how to make—“

“I don’t,” Hector said, glancing at you. You giggled, and he grinned. “I’m serious. I mean, in theory, sure: it’s like — what’re those fluffy stiff fuckers — meringues, right? Eggs and sugar? Mold it and wait? But my mom always went down early and bought ‘em from this artist lady she liked. For the ofrenda, and an edible one for me so I’d stop trying to lick the decorative ones when her back was turned.”

You paused in your laughter at that image, hesitant. This was the second time his mom had unexpectedly popped up this visit, and the first time hadn’t been… happy, per se. “Did you guys do that every year?”

“When we lived here? Not always,” he shrugged. “Sometimes she couldn’t get down and back in time, so we’d just leave some extra treats out and hope people coming back to visit would understand. Plus, when Tia Mathilde was in a bad mood, she’d get snippy about what room Ma could set stuff up in. Eventually, she just kept a small ofrenda in her room so she didn’t have to deal with Auntie griping about the marigold petals on the carpet.” He sucked the inside of his cheek for a minute, his eyes distant. “…She always remembered when we lived with her folks, though.” He looked away for a moment, pretending to inspect his sneakers. “But by then I usually spent the day elsewhere. It was kinda crowded. Anyway. Come on, beautiful,” he said, looking back up at you abruptly. “We got veggies to put in the fridge, get my cousin off my back.”

“Yeah, definitely.” You were sure that wasn’t what was actually what had him preoccupied, but you didn’t press. You followed him back to the cart, the two of you heading for check out. Though he was friendly as ever with the giggly (clearly somewhat smitten) cashier, you noticed Hex was subdued again, not even making his usual joke of buying out all the day-old donuts with Maxi’s credit card.

By the time the two of you walked out with your bags, you were scrambling slightly, trying to figure out how to bring him back to the present so he wouldn’t linger too long in his reverie.

As the two of you loaded the groceries into the trunk of the mustang, you spotted it: a little tent set up on the far side of the shopping center, with a handmade sign and two elderly people bundled up in lawn chairs. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Hex looked up from closing the trunk when you tugged his sleeve, eyes refocusing like he was emerging from a daze.

You thumbed towards the cider stand. “You want some?” You smiled, hoping you weren’t being obvious. “My treat?”

“Absolutely not.” Hector shoved his hand in his pocket, quickly producing his cousin’s card once again. “We’re still on a very official mortuary errand, let it be Maxi’s treat.”

“Then shouldn’t we bring him some?” Your smile felt more genuine as Hex took your hand, threading your fingers back together as you crossed the cracked little parking lot. “Since he’s being so kind?”

“Eh, it’s a had-to-be there thing, he knows how it goes.” Hector shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing personal, this is purely business.”

“Ahuh.” You muffled a small laugh. “And Rora? None for her?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ emphatically. “La Reina made it perfectly clear she didn’t wanna come along. She didn’t help with grocery shopping, so she doesn’t get to reap the rewards of honest work.”

“Damn, you guys are cold-blooded,” you teased, hip-checking him lightly.

“Hey, I warned them fair and square, I didn’t wanna mix business and family.” He spread his free hand in an exaggeratedly helpless gesture. “This is what happens. It’s cut-throat.”

You were still laughing a little when the two of you reached the tent, and you couldn’t miss the rosy-cheeked elderly couple sneaking each other a knowing smile when they greeted you and Hex. A yellow lab sat up from where it had been laying sweetly at their feet, shaking itself and mirroring its people with a panting, tongue-hanging smile of its own.

You watched silently as the cider folks poured you both a full styrofoam cup and chatted with Hex, wondering if they maybe saw themselves in you two. If they had been like you once, feeling like there were only endless unknowns ahead of them, but had finally settled into a gentle present together - from the gentleman’s brief conversation with Hector, one filled with their apple orchard and their dogs, selling homemade cider on crisp afternoons.

As the two of you took your cider (with an extra cinnamon stick for Hex, since he asked the elderly woman with a polite yet roguish smile), you both made sure the lab behind its ears, Hector reminding her in multiple languages that she was a good dog before the two of you took your leave.

That wouldn’t be such a bad forever, you thought to yourself as the older folks waved goodbye. Just the two of you doing something little to make some extra cash, sitting together in the sunlight and chatting about everything and nothing while you waited for people to swing by. Riding home - a shared home, a house for both of you - in his old car, the tired quiet comfortable like a well-loved quilt.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the happy little noise Hector made as you both leaned against the trunk of his car, and you turned to see him enjoying a long sip with both cinnamon sticks still in the cup.

“Good?” you asked, smirking.

“Mmhm.” He pulled the rest away as if to inspect it, licking his lips. “Their spice blend is really killer. Fuck a PSL.”

“That’s why Greymoon never gets a Starbucks, they just know they couldn’t compete.” You took a sip of your own, and unwittingly made a similar noise. The taste that flooded your mouth was immaculately golden, the kind of distilled late afternoon sunshine from the romanticized autumns of years past. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.”

“Right?” Hector nodded. “I didn’t think we had any witches around lately, but now I don’t know. Little lady over there might just be hiding a pointy hat at home.”

“Now watch, we’re both going to be magically enthralled to some ancient Apple God when we least expect it.” You took another long sip nonetheless.

“Hey, beats my current thing.” Hector shrugged, downing more of his.

Oh. Right. That.

The small hitch in your soft little idea of forever.

You took another sip, your mind torn in both directions: his mom, which was what you’d been originally trying to distract him from, and now the issue of his necromantic Chain, which you were wondering if you needed distracting from.

“You having flashbacks on me?”

You blinked, looking up to find Hector watching your face. His head was tilted, his small smile looking crooked as he searched your eyes. “Where’d you go, preciosa? You got all thousand-yard stare for a sec.”

“I’m good.” You smiled, trying to prove it. “Just… Fall.” You gestured to the gorgeous day, the drinks in your hands.

“…Ahuh.” Hector said, clearly skeptical. He took one of the cinnamon sticks out of his drink, sticking the end that had been in the cider in his mouth. “Try me anyway?”

You hesitated, not wanting to bog down the moment. “…Why do I get the feeling you did the cinnamon challenge when it was a thing?” you asked instead.

“Nuh-uh,” Hector lied, the way he turned from you slightly to chew on the stick giving him away.

You laughed, immediately picturing the worst. “It didn’t go well, huh?”

“No, because I definitely didn’t do it in a room full of people at a party. What’re you, a cop?” He pointed the stick at you accusingly as you laughed even harder, nearly snorting cider as you went to take another sip. “You got your little FBI man in your phone to go through mine for proof or something? That’s low, that sneaky bastard, he’s supposed to be on my payroll.”

“I love you,” you said through the giggles you were trying to smother.

“Obviously.” Hector threw his hair dramatically over his shoulder, but he couldn’t quite hold the bravado as he looked at you, his gaze softening back into that look from before. “…I love you,” he repeated quietly, his version somehow warmer than the cider in your hand.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around your waist as he kissed the top of your skull. You stayed there, enjoying the smell of the fresh cinnamon and the hoodie he was wearing.

“…Earlier,” you spoke just as quietly, afraid to burst this little golden bubble. “When we were inside, you said something about ‘if it weren’t for the damn House.’” You angled your head so you could see his face. “What’d you mean?”

“Oh.” Hector rolled his eyes somewhat, his hand moving your waist to fiddle with a drawstring on your borrowed hoodie. “I just meant we’d be outta here already.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to hold off on the automatic hurt that wanted to leap to the forefront. “‘We?’ Like you and the twins?”

“Eh, if they wanted to, sure,” he said, shrugging. “But we’d find each other again if we needed to, they know that. I meant you and me.” He looked down at you. “I’d take you and we’d move somewhere beautiful, like, tomorrow. Get the fuck outta here, go somewhere with something going on. A real art scene, or at least someplace with actual nightlife, maldita. Or maybe we’d be like those weirdos that live in a van,” he went on. “Move around a bunch of places for a while. Like, we’d live at the beach, until you got tired of the beach, and then we’d try the mountains or something, y’know?”

“Oh, so you’d take me, huh?” Your grin threatened to split your face, it was so hard and so real.

“Obviously,” he said, his bravado back with a wink that made you laugh again. “I’d have to, before you had a chance to think it through.”

“Hey, I might be more game than you think.” You reached up, twirling a lock of his hair around the end of your finger. “What about where you’d want to live, though?”

“That’s the easy part.” He hip-checked you gently, which just pushed you more against his arm as he squeezed you in a hug. “Long as you’re there, I’m good.”

You looked at him for a long moment, pretty sure the warmth in your chest now had nothing to do with the cider or your hoodies in the sunshine. “You wanna head back?” Your hand dropped to tug lightly on his sweatshirt. “So we can put the groceries away before we get completely distracted making out, and so we don’t have an audience?” You glanced out of the corner of your eye at the tent in the distance.

“Yeah, sure babe. One sec.” Hex’s arm supported your back as he dipped you backwards, holding you steady as he made a show of kissing you in front of the grocery store.

It took you two until the lab started barking across the lot to remember you needed to actually get in and start the car.

(perhaps I was the real corn lord all along. :)

if you read this far, I hope you treat yourself to something delicious today 🥰)

#spooky season in the barrens #hector morvant-casares #hex morvant-casares #hector emile morvant-casares #hector and his reader #hector morvant-casares x you #hector’s querida #southern slasher ocs #slasher oc #slasher oc x reader #spiritual medium oc #necromancer oc #genderqueer reader #non-binary reader #plus size reader #bisexual reader #queer reader #morvant mortuary #monsterkisser fics #diego luna fc

[soggylampshade-11]

Dead Like Me. Chapter 3.

This chapter is weeks later than I planned on, but I'm a social worker and it never stops being hectic. That being said, I don't have an upload schedule at all and I apologize in advance for that.

Trigger Warnings: mentions of SA, victim blaming, language

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I was in the library with a book when I saw Zach again a few days later. He didn’t look as good as he did the day I died, he looked stressed now. He and Chloe Bradshaw were standing close together a couple feet from me and talking in low voices. I got up and made my way over to them to hear what they were saying. 

“Are you sure she did? Like, did you see it in her hands that night?” Chloe asked, making me raise my eyebrow in confusion. 

“No, Chloe, I was a bit distracted by the head wound gushing blood on my brand new Jordans!” he told her in a tense whisper. “But I can’t find it anywhere. It was on the front of my letterman, but it’s not here now. It’s not in my truck or the locker room or in any of my pockets. That bitch had to grab it when I was trying to fight her off of me the other night.”

Fight me off? What did that mean? There was no version of events that had him fighting me off him. If anything, he was forcing himself onto me and I was fighting him off. I tried to think back to gripping his jacket or holding anything in my hands, but the memory wasn’t coming back to me. I was too high on adrenaline to feel much of anything that I could remember.

“I still can’t believe you let her trick you into going under the bleachers with her,” Chloe snapped, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout. “You know she was a whore! She obviously wanted to hookup with you and convince you to go to Homecoming with her! The two of you together would’ve won king and queen!”

I was rotting in a morgue right now and she was worried about winning homecoming queen. It was like I didn’t matter at all to her and it hurt. I genuinely thought she was my friend, but I guess I was wrong about her too. At this point, I don’t think I had a single real friend when I was alive. They all wanted something from me, so they tolerated my presence.

“Hey, bookworm, what’s up?” Wally asked, making me jump because I’d been so deep in thought. “Whoa, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I shook my head at that. “Do you see that guy over there? The blonde? He’s who killed me.”

“What? Really?” Wally asked in surprise, his eyebrows flying up his forehead. 

“Yeah, he slammed my head against the bleachers when I wouldn’t hook up with him,” I explained quickly, skipping over the awkward parts. “That’s his girlfriend who I thought was my friend until just now. I don’t think I had a single friend when I was alive. Isn’t that so pathetic?”

“I’m sorry, that has to really suck,” he replied, making me look at him in surprise. “What? I can have feelings and biceps!”

That made me snort with laughter, allowing myself to feel something that wasn’t dread or another negative emotion since I died. “Thank you, I really needed that.”

“No problem, you’ve got a great laugh,” he said with a shrug. “What were you focusing on so much when I scared you?”

“Other than realizing all my ex-friends are bitches?” I asked, making him nod his head. “Zach was saying that something was missing off his letterman and he thought I had it when I died.”

Wally got up from his seat and went over to inspect Zach’s jacket, pulling on the sides and the collar. “It looks like everything’s accounted for, I think. At least that I would notice, but it’s been a few decades since I wore one of these.”

I tried to think of that night and if I remembered anything coming off in my hands. I forced myself to focus on only that and not get lost in the full memory. My eyes were closed and I was gripping the arms of my chair, refusing to quit until I found something. 

I felt my spine hitting against the hard beam of wood behind me, but I forced myself to think of my hands. I realized I was gripping the front of his jacket when I tried to push him off me. I couldn’t see what was under my hands, but I could feel it digging into the skin of my palm. 

I sucked in a deep breath and pulled myself out, finding Wally kneeling in front of me. “Hey, god, you just went catatonic or something and didn’t reply when I said your name.”

“I was thinking back to try and figure out what he was talking about. I could feel something sharp in my hand, but I couldn’t place it,” I explained breathlessly, seeing Wally’s hand hovering over my knee before falling back to his lap instead of touching me. 

“Zach Hines, Theo Wheeler, Alex Walker, Tommy Madison -please report to the principal’s office.”

“Shit, they had to find my pin,” Zach remarked to Chloe, his face going pale. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! What am I supposed to do?”

“Just go talk to them, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just fought her off you, it was self defense!” Chloe said reassuringly, squeezing Zach’s bicep. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed, yanking his arm out of her grip. 

He stormed out of the library and I nearly tripped over myself to chase after him. A second passed before I turned back around and grabbed Wally’s hand, dragging him behind me. He didn’t stumble at all, keeping up with me easily. Stupid athletic genes. 

“Are we eavesdropping?” he asked, going into the principal’s office with me to see all the football players sitting in front of his desk. “Oh, they look like douches.”

Before I could reply to that, two officers came into the office with them. “Afternoon, boys. Do you know why you’re here?”

“Not a clue,” Theo replied, an arrogant look on his face that told me he was lying. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard your fellow classmate Sabrina Wellington was found murdered under the bleachers last week,” one of the officers said, ignoring Theo’s response. 

“Oh, yeah, that sucks. Brina was cool people,” Tommy said, making me frown as a stab of sadness dug into me. “Let me know if there’s anything you need from me.” 

Tommy and I had history together last semester and sat beside each other. We ended up working together on a project and realized that we had a lot in common. I hung out sometimes with him and his partner sometimes after games. 

“Yes, that goes for all of us,” Theo said, continuing to answer for all of them. “Brina was family.”

I scoffed at that, crossing my arms over my chest petulantly. The officer seemed to have the same feelings because she moved to stand in front of them, leaning back against the principal’s desk. 

“I’m going to level with you guys right now. We found something that could put her murder on any of you, but you already knew that,” she stated, making Tommy get choked and cough. “We found the pin the team won at Nationals last year clutched in her hand.”

“Why’d you only bring us in? All the guys have that pin, we won it last year,” Alex said, reminding me he was here. 

“We’re eighteen, stupid,” Theo replied, making Alex nod in understanding. “But none of us are interested in speaking until we have lawyers present, isn’t that right, Zach?”

“Shut up, I’m answering any questions they have. Sabrina was my friend,” Tommy said, glaring over at Theo. He moved the side of his jacket to show the pin on the collar. “My pin’s right here.”

I noticed Zach wasn’t wearing his letterman and hadn’t said a word since he’d come into the office. I saw the second officer watching him, noticing the same thing I did. Those pins weren’t something he could get a replica of, he was going to get caught without his. 

“Look, it’s no secret that Wellington was a slut. She could’ve been fucking any of the dudes on the team and got herself in trouble that night,” Zach snapped, his voice cold and detached. “I’m leaving before this becomes a goddamned witch hunt.”

Zach was up and out of the office quicker than I could blink. Theo and Alex followed right behind him, but Tommy stayed in his seat. I wanted to hug him and thank him for being the only genuine friend I had when I was alive. 

“Brina was a good person, she helped me a lot. I want to help her,” he said to the officers, making my eyes burn with tears as I moved to sit beside him and sit my hands on his even if he didn’t know I was here. “I’ll give you my contact information.”

He left after writing it down for the police, leaving Wally and I alone with the adults. I wanted to hear if they said anything about Zach. 

“Can we get the contact information for all the football players?” the officer asked. The principal agreed and left to talk with the front office, allowing the officers to talk alone. “I hate these little privileged assholes. That Hines kid and that Wheeler kid don’t feel good. I think we should check them out first.”

“Hines first,” the other officer said evenly. “He didn’t make eye contact a single time and couldn’t sit still for shit. He’s suspicious and guilty of something. I want to know what.”

We left the office and went into the teacher’s lounge, finding it surprisingly empty. I was grateful for that because I was feeling a lot of emotions and really didn’t want to do that in front of a group of strangers. Wally felt comfortable, something I didn’t have the energy to dissect at the moment. 

“Hey, do you want to talk about what just happened?” Wally finally asked, giving me almost fifteen minutes to process everything. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. Can you check back in later?” I asked, swallowing around the lump of emotion in my throat. “Like, don’t leave me alone though. I like when you’re here.”

“I’ll stay until you tell me to leave,” he promised, sitting down on the couch and stretching out his legs to rest on the coffee table in front of us. 

#school spirits #wally clark #milo manheim #wally clark x oc #wally clark fanfic #wally clark imagines #wally clark x reader

[dearweirdme]

i think what i am getting from most of this discourse about how you a distinguish a couple, or tkk being real, whatever whatever, is about having faith lmaoo.

i fully admit i am a delulu when it comes to tkk, i see their interactions and i can easily tell they're different you just have to know how to spot it. you can tell if you already know. but at the same time, most of my army friends will watch the same interaction and be like "wow they are such good friends!" now idk if they are turning a blind eye to the obviousness or they simply just don't see it and me being a closeted believer would be like "yeahhhh haha"

now i'm thinking maybe it's because i am a believer that i can see them differently than others. it is kinda like believing in a religion, no matter what any other religion/person says you will rarely ever lose your faith. or suppose if you're atheist/agnostic then no one can convince you to have faith

so what i think is that other "shippers" will hold on to their faith and continue to believe that their ship is the truth and in the same way we will continue to believe in ours.

(also whats with ppl wanting to be believers?? trust me once you see it you cant unsee and its not easy being a tkkr don't get into this business its not for everyone, too much hardship 😭)

Hi anon!

Sorry for responding late!

😂 I very often wonder about the amount of hidden Tkkrs amongst fandom. There’s such a stigma on being a Tkkr that I think many just don’t dare to mention it amongst their seemingly neutral army friends. I know I won’t easily talk about it to people I don’t know whether they are Tkkrs or not.

I think there’s a few things important to be able to see. Acceptance and support of queerness, knowledge about the amount of closeting in the music industry, knowledge about SK’s ideas about queerness, an understanding of Sk culture as a whole, an understanding of what adult long term relationships look like, and an understanding of Tae and Jk as persons.

I’m an atheist (one who is not going to get into a theological debate on here 😂) and for me your comparison with religion does not really hold. I think it will be really easy to make people stop believing in Tae and Jk as a couple. Without wanting to insult, for me personally I believe in Tae and Jk because of what I can see and witness myself and I don’t think that’s what religion is based on (again… I’m an atheist 😬).

Yeah I would not advise people to become a Tkkr 😂😂. Personally I do love it here, but it’s also a very wild and emotional ride most of the time.

#taekook #fandom shenanigans