#fandom request

[black-dhalias]

Hello? Are you willing to write about Jasper Hale x human female reader where they keep having inappropriate thoughts about each other and Edward cannot stand it any longer? It is completely okay if you are not interested in writing such a thing. Have a nice day :)

Lacks Control

Jasper Hale X Human!F!Reader Warnings: contains/mentions sexual content, light swearing

In most ways, you thought similarly to most humans and thought you understood how the world worked. You knew that there were balances in place, checks that keep the universe from overreaching a little too far. You believed in energies, and how people interact with each other often impacts what they receive unto themselves. You were absolutely sure that you understood yourself, but that was a year ago--before the Cullens arrived in Juneau, Alaska. Your home.

It was before Jasper arrived.

Now, a year later, you could hardly believe how different things have become; in many ways, you don't see the world in the same way. You see the world as brighter, and intense, and more mysterious than its made out to be. You glance at the alarm clock, shocked to see only minutes left--the night got away from you faster than you expected. It felt like you had just laid down, and now slanted morning light is streaming in from the partially open window—unbelievable.

You hardly understood what you heard that night, and if they wouldn't have reacted so brashly—you probably would have written it off, and left without another thought.

However, upon hearing Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella talking about Jasper's control—you almost left right there, but no—they kept talking. They said too much to just write off, and when they turned that corner to see you pale white pressed against the wall. They realized just how much you had heard, and its not like they could just make you forget—so there. That's how you found out the newest members of Juneau community were vampires, and that humans knowing their secret is not exactly accepted.

Despite Jasper being the topic of conversation that night, his control specifically, you almost forgot it entirely every time you saw him. Admittedly, Jasper was terrifying and in the right lighting, his scars were very visible even to a human. His eyes were often dark, and his expression stoic and tight. Most of the time, you tried to avoid him entirely, but being near him was exhilarating. It felt like gravity pressing against you, everything impossible, felt possible.

Now that left you in a precarious position, with an undeniable attraction to probably the most lethal Cullen.

Maybe that's a bit of an understatement, half the time you were in the same room with him—all you could think about was the possibility of undressing him. Images of your fingers dragging down his body, and it wasn't like you had to use your imagination—you had caught him changing once and that was it. All the fuel your mind needed to keep you interested, practically drooling at the thought.

"Darling?" You hmm, sitting up straight in your seat, you mentally curse yourself for letting your mind wander so far. Remember that whole thing about how you thought you were normal before, now you know you think differently because who else loses time like this? Who else could go from their home, all the way to their University; just thinking, just itching to think about him.

Once more, his eyes were in that in-between shade—not exactly amber, but not bright either like his unofficial siblings. You were shocked at the beginning of the semester when he walked into this class, because what was a vampire doing at the University of Southeast Alaska? No reason, but Jasper must had his because it takes a real psychopath to spend their time in an Animal Physiology class. Yet Jasper fit right in, and you have to admit the company is much nicer than others might think.

However, it was also incredibly distracting and in some distasteful ways, you spent the better half of class time enamored by him. His thick southern drawl, the way his blonde curls moved when he spoke, but especially with his hands. God, what else can those hands do? Per usual though, you feel warmth spread to your cheeks and look at your hands, you really need to get a handle on yourself if you plan on passing this class.

"Yes?" You ask, practically cursing the very ground you walk as you pretend to scribble down some notes on the cellular makeup of artic mammals—only it wasn't information the professor was saying, but rather verbatim notes of the last line you wrote. In fact, it is the same thing you've written at least ten times on the paper, but you just couldn't help your wandering mind.

"Class ended five minutes ago..." You perk, eyes widening as you look around the room and see that no one else is here. Just you... slowly, your eyes turn to Jasper. And him. Just you and him.

Perhaps his words shouldn’t have affected your demeanor, or maybe it had more to do with being alone with him, but something inside you snapped. Not only did you clearly feel an urge to take his face in between your palms and kiss him—you also had the inherent urge to bury your face into your arms and hope you got sucked away.

“Fantastic…” You kind of murmur into your skin, before sitting up with a sharp inhale and glancing over at the smirking Texan. His accent always seemed so out of place in Alaska, his honey like drawl always stood out when he spoke. It’s what got your attention in the first place, you couldn’t help yourself when you heard it.

You shut your notebook, sliding it into your bag with your laptop and pens—zipping it before Jasper tossed it over his shoulder. This was the routine, he showed up and you spent more than half of class imagining a million different ways you could take him on the desk.

Was that wrong? You hardly think it’s a good thing, but when you glance over at him. The way he held open your doors, and always close enough to catch you if your feet bumped each other. How could you not have those kinds of thoughts?

“Carlisle and Esme are still asking when you’re coming over again?” You hmm, before looking forward again—processing what he said, it just always takes a second.

“Oh yeah, we can head there now. I don’t have anything to do today.” If you weren’t too busy trying to ignore the throb of your chest, you would have seen the smile. The one that Jasper only reserved for you.

“Well then, after you…” Jasper holds open the door, letting you pass before leading you towards his car.

The Cullens were happy when you came around, Alice had told Jasper that he’d find someone eventually. She knew you were coming, but no one knew the effect it would have on him. The way he seemed to control himself, he didn’t feel like a runaway train anymore. The way Jasper seemed to smile more often, especially when he spoke of you.

“Y/N!” Esme exclaims as you enter the Cullen home, embracing you close as she smiles brightly. She always seemed so excited to see you, more than the others—what you didn’t know, was she had wished more than anything for Jasper to have someone. They all had their person, and well, finding you just fit into the puzzle so well. “Oh it’s so good to see you.”

You follow after her, Jasper watching as you go before heading into the living room. While he knew you’d be preoccupied for the time being, he couldn’t help, but sit in a spot where he could see you.

Today you seemed extra beautiful, not just beautiful—ravishing. You weren’t doing anything different, but something about the way you were looking at him earlier. If he were human, his heart would have been racing and his breath caught up.

What did you look like naked? The thought caught him off guard, it piqued his interest as he admired you from afar. Jasper did his best to not rush into things, to let you take the lead when it came to your relationship.

Did you have any birthmarks? He wondered how long it would take to count every freckle and mark upon your skin, if he could kiss each and every one. He’d even been in the room with you before, when you decided to stay over and you changed into some of his clothes. But still, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

You could feel his eyes on you, even from across the room. Even as Esme spoke to you so earnestly about something, you glanced over.

Jasper seemed to be looking at you, but also into you—you could feel the intensity. The sensation of him, again thoughts from class came to mind.

What would it feel like to be between a wall and his body? You purse your lips, trying not to linger on the thought—but they seem to always come in twos. And if you were, what would he do? God you wanted to know so bad… To feel what it felt like to be under him, pleading with him to take you right there.

“That’s it!” Jasper moves quickly as Edward appears at the bottom of the stairs, “You two need to go!” It wasn’t angry, but Jasper was at your side.

“Edward?! What’s wrong?”

“These two! They need to go, I can’t take another minute of them having mind sex.”

Your eyes widen, looking over at Jasper who seems to be looking everywhere except at you.

“You could just—not read our minds?” Edward shakes his head at your assertion, pushing you both towards the door.

“Nope. Your thoughts are too loud to just ignore.”

“I-” Edward gives a final shove out the door, as you bump into Jasper. Feeling his hand brace against your waist, steadying you as the mind reader gives a smile.

“Go to their house. And, think whatever thoughts you want. Just not here.” The door shuts and you look over at Jasper, then away as quickly as possible. Cheeks flushed warm.

Perhaps you should have saw that coming, Edward practically avoided you like a plague when you were over.

“So mind sex, huh?” You groan, glancing up at Jasper—the playfulness of his tone suppressing the obvious curiosity you note in his eyes.

“It takes two…” His smile broadens as he unlocks the car door, “Two people.”

.

.

.

“Whatever you say, darlin’…”

#twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight #imagines #short imagine #requests are open #fandom request #imagine #imagine requests #x reader #requests #love #jasper hale x reader #jasper x reader #jasper hale imagine #jasper cullen imagine #jasper cullen x reader

[beautifulhigh]

Can someone parallel the scene of TK taking Carlos' hand in 1x10 with Carlos taking TK's hand in 3x18?

Because they definitely make a good team

#tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes #911 lone star #911ls #fandom request #gif request

[boxofbonesfic]

scene prompt! bucky eating you out until you physically can’t take it anymore but he doesn’t stop.

Title: You’re Gonna Give Me Six

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Absolute Filth. Cunnilingus, Overstimulation

You don’t even see him before his arms are anchored tight around your waist, his face buried against the back of your neck. He smells like sweat and motor oil, and you know the fingers he’s digging into your hip through the fabric of your dress are stained with the stuff—they always are. There’s a smudge of it on his cheek, a testament to how quickly he’d fled the garage downstairs upon seeing your car pull into the driveway.

“Missed you.” Bucky breathes the words against your skin and you shiver as they leave goosebumps. You know he means it, the way he sighs and presses his nose into the loose curls at the nape of your neck. Bucky doesn’t talk much—a trait you still find a little unsettling, but you’re learning to read him the way he reads you; learning how to hear words hidden in the slow pass of his hand or the upward curl of his lips. It makes his words heavy, like they’re carrying more than just themselves—so you know he means them. 

“I was only gone a week.” Your words are muffled by his shoulder. You can feel his lips curve against your throat. He hums low in his throat. 

“S’ too long.” When he dumps you onto the bed, the sheets all smell like him, like he’s spent every night you were apart here in your apartment. You suspect that if you were to bury your face in the pillows, you’d smell his aftershave.

“How’m I supposed t’sleep ‘less I can feel you right next to me, Peach?” Your feet dangle off the edge of the bed as Bucky settles himself between your thighs. “Ain’t slept good in days.” His hands are warm on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles into your bare skin as he pushes the hem of your dress up over your hips.

“And that’s my fault?” You ask teasingly, though your boyfriend nods without missing a beat. 

“Mmm.” He drags his finger down over the swell of your cunt through your panties, before cupping it with one huge hand. “Got some apologies to make, I reckon.” You squeal as he tugs your panties tight, tugging them back and forth between the lips of your pussy like dental floss. You gasp. 

“B-Buck—” He snaps the elastic against you before tugging them to the side. 

“That’s good, Peach,” he says, his rough hands spreading your thighs apart as he lowers himself between them. “All I wanna hear s’ my name.” The first touch of his tongue is electric, gently tracing the outline of your lips like he’s trying to map them out. Your sharp breath elicits a chuckle, and you feel his mouth curve against you. Bucky spreads your thighs further apart, slipping his tongue into your folds with a soft moan of appreciation. 

“Should’a done this before you got in that damn taxi,” he mumbles. “Should’a tasted you before you left.” You want to respond, but the words keep devolving into meaningless babble as his tongue works against you. His fingers dig into your thighs as he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling it.

“O-oh f-fuck—”

You cum without warning, squeezing your thighs around his head as you rock your hips into his face. Bucky groans, holding you in place as your thighs tremble. He doesn’t stop, forcing your trembling thighs back open. 

“B-Bucky what, what—oh—” You arch into the mattress as he finds your swollen, overworked clit with his tongue. “B—” It’s like electricity exploding behind your unseeing eyes, and you keen as he slides two thick fingers into your sopping cunt, moaning low in his throat as you clamp down around him. 

“You’re gonna give me six more, Peach,” he says lowly. Bucky spreads his fingers, scissoring them inside you with a wet squelch. “One for every day you missed.” 

#ask the bones #requests #drabbles #bones drabbles #boxofbones drabbles #boxofbonesfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x reader

[writtenbymoonflower]

how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you. 

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with. 

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand. 

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius. 

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs” 

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar. 

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.” 

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup. 

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug. 

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone. 

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away. 

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive. 

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved. 

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy. 

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy. 

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?” 

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up. 

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced. 

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper. 

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch. 

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest. 

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak. 

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James. 

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp. 

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders angst #poly marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #james potter #sirius black #marauders era #remus lupin #drabble #fluff #poly!marauders x shy!reader #anon ask #anon request

[happy74827]

hey pookieeee, how about mike and reader are like new to dating and mike just got his job at freddy’s fazbears pizzeria as night guard. and he has trouble paying the bills and stuff and taking care for abby. and reader is like lemme help you. and mikes like no i got it. just rlly angsty to fluff? if you get what i mean? thanks xo

Resolute Hearts

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: All you wanted to do was to save him from drowning.

WC: 2883

Category: Angst to Fluff, Happy Ending

I absolutely adored this request. I hope you were serious about the angst, because it is there and it is heavy 🫠

『••✎••』

Tears…that's all you could feel. You felt them running down your cheeks, and you could feel your lips trembling as you sat on the tile floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The surrounding air was thick, a suffocating feeling. It was hard to breathe. Your head felt light, and your vision was a blur. You took in deep, shaky breaths, trying to hold back the sobs you desperately wanted to let out.

You never thought you would feel this way. It was like everything you had worked for your entire life had fallen through. It was like nothing meant anything to you anymore. Your life, your family, your friends. They didn't mean anything to you. You didn't care about them. You were alone, and the only person you cared about didn't seem to care about you back.

The apartment was dark and quiet. You sat in the bathroom, the door locked, the lights off, the fan running to block the sound of your tears. Your roommate had left hours before, saying she had an early morning class. You didn't know why they even had classes so early in the morning.

It felt like decades had gone by since you sat there on the bathroom floor. The bathroom tiles were cold and uncomfortable. You were cold and uncomfortable. You didn't feel like yourself. You weren't the type to get so worked up about anything. You weren't the type to sit on a bathroom floor and cry over things you couldn't fix. You were the type to keep your head held high. To smile through everything, even if the situation was tough. To be the rock for your friends to lean on.

But, you felt alone. You felt so alone.

Michael, Mike. Michael was the one who made you feel alone. You loved him. God, you loved him more than anything. You loved him so much. You loved how caring he was. How sweet he could be. How considerate he was. You loved every inch of him and every inch of what he did for you. He was so considerate of your feelings; he never pushed you to do things you weren't ready for. So, why did his words hurt you so much? Why did his actions make you feel so small and worthless?

Why?

It had only been a few months since you started dating, and everything seemed to be perfect. He was charming, sweet, and an all-around amazing guy. You were so happy with him. He was everything you wanted in a boyfriend, and you were over the moon with how everything was going. He even seemed to care for you; at least, that's what you thought.

He had been distant for the past few weeks. You found yourself seeing Abby more often than you did Mike. You would wake up, and he wouldn't be there, only to find him passed out on the couch or working on a late project in the kitchen.

He said he was fine, but you knew he wasn't. You could tell he wasn't okay. You knew something was bothering him, but he never opened up to you about what it was. You thought about telling him it was okay. That he could talk to you about anything, he didn't need to keep it bottled up. He didn't need to worry you like that.

You did eventually open your mouth to say something about how he was feeling, but before you could even get the words out, he shut you down. He said he was fine that you were overreacting. That you needed to worry about yourself more and stop thinking about his feelings all the time. You just needed to trust him.

You believed him. You foolishly believed him until it all came crashing down. During one of your many late nights babysitting Abby for him, you accidentally stumbled upon papers that he left on the coffee table. One of which was a delinquency notice dated back to last week. He was behind on rent and had a couple of other bills that were due soon. You didn't want to add to his stress, so you figured it wouldn't hurt to try and help him with those.

Apparently, it did hurt. It hurt enough to make him snap at you when you decided to approach him the night before about it. Abby was tucked into bed in her room for the night, so you decided it would be a good opportunity to talk to him just as he was about to leave. How stupid you were. How naive. You didn't know what he was going to say, but you had no idea he was going to get so angry. So angry, in fact, that it ended up waking Abby up.

You felt your stomach churn at the memory of his voice getting louder, your name getting harsher, the tone of his words getting angrier.

"I said I can take care of myself, just like I've always done." He was livid, his face red with anger. He was trying to keep his cool, but it seemed that it was just too much for him. "Why do you have to get involved? Just butt out, alright?"

"I just want to help, Mike. You shouldn't have to pay for everything on your own. I just want to be there for you, like you are for me," you said, reaching out for his hands, but he pulled away from you.

"I don't need you to take care of me. I can handle this on my own. I've been doing this on my own for a long time," he told you, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn't want to be touched, you could tell.

"You're right," you admitted. "You're an adult; you've been taking care of yourself for a long time, and I shouldn't try to change that. But I'm here, okay? I'm here for you and for Abby. And I'm not trying to take care of you; I'm just trying to help you. Just let me help you."

"What the hell do you think this is?!" Mike practically screamed at you. "You think this is easy?! You think I don't want to get out of debt, huh? Do you think I like being in debt? I don't! But it's my fault, and it's my job to take care of it!"

"Mike, calm down! Abby is sleeping in the next—" You tried to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear any of it. He was too mad. He was too angry. He turned and grabbed his car keys, turning back to look at you, the hurt and anger evident in his eyes.

"Abby isn't your concern; she's my responsibility. She's my sister, not yours. You're just—" Mike stopped himself, not wanting to say the next thing that came to his head. But you were right there, in front of him, looking up at him with eyes full of hurt. You were so close, so close he could see the tears glistening in your eyes.

“I'm just… what, Mike?" You asked him, your voice hitching. The tears that you had been holding back began to fall. You were at a breaking point; you didn't know how to feel anymore. You didn't know what you were feeling. All you knew was that your boyfriend just screamed at you and hurt you with his words.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked over your shoulder to see Abby standing there. She looked up at her brother with wide eyes and a confused expression. She looked from Mike to you, then to her hand that was on your shoulder. You felt numb. You couldn't believe what was happening.

"Abby…" Mike took a deep breath. "Abby, go back to bed, okay? I'll be back soon." He gave her a soft smile. The one he always gave you when you needed it. She looked up at him, giving him the same sad look she was giving you. She rubbed her eyes and walked back into her room, closing the door behind her. Mike turned his attention back to you, but he didn't say anything. He looked like he had more to say, but the words just didn't come out.

And that was the last time you saw him.

You spent the next couple of hours curled up on the floor, crying until you couldn't cry anymore. You tried to sleep in the own comfort of your bed, but every time you closed your eyes, you would see his face. His angry face. The face he made at you the last time you spoke. The face he made when he screamed at you. You hated it. You hated everything about it.

It was around six in the morning when you decided to finally leave your room. It was cold outside, but you didn't care. You needed some fresh air. You needed to get out of there for a little bit. You needed to get away from the suffocating apartment, the suffocating situation. You needed to get away from everything that reminded you of Mike. You walked down the hall to the patio, and you were almost to it when you heard the faint knock on the door.

You stood at the entrance to the living room, listening to the faint knocks. It was the first time in hours that you heard a sound other than your own voice. Your eyes were glued to the door, your hands in fists as you listened. And listened. And listened. It felt like an eternity before you finally decided to get the courage to walk up and answer it, reaching for the knob and pulling it open.

There, standing on the other side of the door, was your boyfriend. Michael was standing there, staring back at you. His face wasn't angry. He wasn't mad anymore. He didn't look sad either. He didn't look like anything at all. He looked blank, empty. Like he didn't have any emotions, his eyes were void of the emotions that you loved so much.

He wore his security vest, the little medallion dangling in front of his chest. He had his name tag attached to it, and you realized he came straight from work. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess, sticking out at the side. His posture was slouched, his shoulders hanging low. He looked exhausted. But he was there, and he was standing right in front of you like he was the one who had been waiting for so long. Like he was the one who was worried.

"Hi," he spoke quietly. He almost whispered. It was soft, and it was quiet. His voice was scratchy and dry. He was trying to smile, but he was trying so hard to force one that it hurt you to see it. You felt a sharp pain in your chest at the sight of him. "Can we… Can we talk?"

"What are you doing here, Michael? You need to be home for Abby." You felt the lump in your throat rise up as you spoke. You could feel the tears coming back to your eyes, and you knew he saw them. He was always good at seeing through you.

"I couldn't go home knowing we're not okay." He looked at you with the saddest look you had ever seen. The look made you want to cry again. You didn't want to cry anymore.

"I… I can't right now," you said, moving to close the door in front of you. "I need some time to think." You started to shut the door, but his hand was quick to stop you from closing it. He put his foot in between the door and the frame and held the door open.

"Please," he begged, practically whining. He was so desperate. You knew he was desperate. You could see it in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed, and how he was clenching his jaw. "I know I shouldn't have said what I did last night. I was just… I was just angry. I didn't mean what I said, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I don't want to lose you because of my shit."

"Mike…" you started, but he cut you off.

"I'm just not used to having someone around all the time… Having someone help me. I know I get angry easily; Fuck, I know I'm stubborn. I know that I get mad at myself a lot because I'm not perfect, but I'm trying. I really am. For the longest time, it's just been Abby and I and no one else. I never really had someone who was willing to take care of me… and I've always been fine. I'm fine." Mike shook his head. "But I don't want to be just fine anymore. I want to be happy, and I want to be happy with you."

You felt a fresh set of tears fall from your eyes. You couldn't help it. The words were too much for you to handle. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was looking at you with his big hazel eyes, and how his voice cracked as he spoke. He looked like he had more to say, but he didn't. He just looked at you. He looked like he was searching for something. And you realized it was your forgiveness. He was waiting for your forgiveness. He was waiting for you to give him another chance.

You thought about all the times he opened up to you. All the times he let you in, and you helped him out when he needed it. You thought about how he was there when you needed him to be. You thought about how he would smile at you when you needed him to, how he would make you smile even on your worst days.

"I think you owe a dollar for the swear jar, maybe more," you spoke softly, looking up at him with your red, puffy eyes. He gave you a confused look, but he soon realized what you were talking about. He chuckled as he wiped the tears from your eyes.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, Abby," he apologized, acting like he was talking to his little sister. She wasn't here right now, but you knew he still felt like he needed to apologize to her for his actions, too. He always felt the need to apologize. He felt the need to try and be a better brother. To try and be a better son. He looked at you with those big eyes of his. The same eyes you fell in love with.

"Hug?" you asked, a small smile gracing your face. You didn't know why you asked, but you did. You felt the lump in your throat slowly ease up, and you finally felt the air in your lungs start to flow. He smiled back at you, opening his arms, and you stepped into them, burying your face in his shoulder.

He pulled away and kissed your forehead, resting his on top of yours. He rubbed your back as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt safe and warm. He felt like everything that was missing.

"I still don't want you covering the debt," he told you. "But… I'll take the help. I can take the help. I'll take it as long as it's you." You could hear him smiling, and you squeezed him tighter.

"Of course. Of course."

Everything was falling back into place. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't fixed. There was still so much to work out, but it was starting to feel a little better. You felt a little better. You felt a little more whole again. The ache in your heart wasn't so bad. It was bearable, and you could finally breathe again.

"You can let go of me now." Mike's voice was muffled against the top of your head, and you realized you were squeezing him too tight.

Still, you didn't let go. "No, you're warm," you said, smiling into his chest.

He let out a small sigh, shaking his head. "Is this my punishment? Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?"

"It could be worse. I could still be mad at you," you replied, kissing the side of his neck.

"Well, in that case," he suddenly grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder. He laughed as you yelped out in surprise, flailing your limbs. You felt the world turn upside down, and you screamed as he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him. "Let me show you how sorry I am."

He might've ended up causing Abby to be late to school that morning, but it was okay. It was okay because you were laughing. You were smiling, and most of all, you were happy.

You were happy because even though it wasn't perfect, he was trying. He was trying to make things better for himself and for you. And for the first time in a long time, it felt like you were finally home.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x female!reader #fnaf #fnaf games #fnaf fic #fanfic #reader #x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys movie #five nights at freddys #josh hutcherson #michael schmidt x reader #anon request #fanfiction #abby schmidt #fnaf fandom #fnaf fanfic #william afton #mike afton #fnaf x reader #michael afton #michael afton x reader #angst #fluff #female!reader #mike schmidt x y/n

[de4dlyniightshade]

munch! spencer, reader with migraine, spencer reads something about how orgasms can help with pain

꩜ warning!: this post is +18!!! mdni!

꩜ word count: 1.6k (got a little carried away;-;)

꩜ A/N: honestly i don't rlly like this but hopefully it's good enough :,)

You let out a quiet groan in pain as you squinted your eyes at the tv, trying to watch your favourite show but the light from the screen only made your throbbing headache worse, to the point it was almost unbearable.

"Another migraine?" Spencer asked quietly from the other end of the sofa as he looked up from his book, keeping his voice low so as to not make it any worse. You just nodded, holding your head in your hand and letting your eyes close, feeling slight relief from the light no longer beaming into your eyes.

You didn't get migraines all that often but when you did they could be pretty bad and Spencer hated seeing you in pain and hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix it even more, or so he thought. He'd spent hours researching ways to alleviate your pain after your last migraine, which got so bad that it practically debilitated you and you couldn't do anything but sit in a darkened room for hours until it passed.

After reading countless articles and blogs a unanimous opinion was that an orgasm relieves a large amount of the pain, one woman going as far to say that hers was completely gone afterwards. Honestly the remedy was a complete win-win, he'd be able to help you and make you feel better and he'd also get to do his absolute favourite thing at the same time, which just so happened to be eating you out.

"Do you want me to help?" Spencer suggested, laying his book down on your coffee table and turning to face you, a slightly excited feeling bubbling in his chest.

"Remember nothing worked last time, Spence" you murmured, sighing at the realisation that you'd probably end up back in your bedroom, cocooned under blankets for your unforeseeable future. You felt Spencer shift closer to you and you could practically feel the excitement radiating from him, knowing that meant he'd found some scientific way to help you and wanted to try it.

"I researched a lot about migraines and how to help you since the last one and the method that came up almost every time was that a sexual release would alleviate a large amount of the pain and i was thinking maybe..." he didn't even have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was thinking, as soon as he uttered the word "sexual" you knew what he had in mind.

"You seriously think it'll work?" Your tone was hopeful and you were prepared to try anything at this point, feeling your pain slowly worsen the more time went on. you'd tried almost every other remedy you'd been suggested by friends and nothing had worked even a little and painkillers did nothing for you no matter how many you took.

"It's worth a try," Spencer smiled, resting his hand on your lower back. you knew he wasn't just doing this for himself, it was just convenient that he loved nothing more than to be buried between your legs.

"Alright, but if this doesn't work I'm not gonna be happy" you were only half serious, you were happy to let Spencer run his little experiment, considering that if it did work, you'd both not have a migraine anymore and would have had an incredible orgasm, so either way, you got something out of the experience.

You watched as Spencer moved to turn off the TV, leaving just a lamp on so that it was light enough that he could still see but dark enough that it wouldn't hurt your head so much.

You quickly hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pants, lifting your hips to tug them down over your ass and slide them down your legs, kicking them to the side to deal with later as Spencer moved to eagerly kneel in front of you, placing his hands behind your knees and leaning down to press a chaste kiss just above your left knee.

You smiled as you slowly spread your legs apart, watching Spencer's eyes glint with anticipation. You already knew the drill—moving to place your legs over his shoulders the way he liked it and shifting forward on the sofa to give him better access.

Spencer didn't waste any time with teasing, reminding himself that this wasn't for him, no matter how much he enjoyed it; this was an attempt to alleviate your pain.

You let out a sigh as you felt his warm tongue lick a bold stripe up your folds before he circled your clit, moaning quietly at your taste that he'd grown to love so much.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he buried his face deeper into you, urging your thighs apart to lap at your pussy, your quiet whines and moans egging him on as he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking at your sensitive nub, the stimulation making you twitch and grip his hair tighter, rolling your hips into his face as you let your head fall back against the couch.

Spencer wrapped his hands around your thighs as he nuzzled his face into you, making sure to get as close as possible to you so that he could dip his tongue into your entrance. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing into you causing you to arch your back, a loud gasp falling from your lips, your migraine long forgotten.

"F-fuck spence," you whined as you tugged on his hair desperately, letting yourself grind into his mouth. Spencer continued his ministrations on your sensitive cunt, drinking in everything you had to give him with pleasure as he whined into your wantonly.

You felt Spencer push one of your legs to the side, and instantly you got the message, lifting your leg to sling it over the arm of the couch to give him access. You couldn't help but gasp when you felt his middle and index fingers prod at your entrance, teasing your hole briefly before he began slowly sliding them in. The copious amount of saliva and your arousal making it easy.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you moaned out as you felt his fingertips curl right into your g-spot, the mixture of his mouth on your clit and his fingers pressing right into that spot that made your toes curl, making your mind go completely blank as you whimpered and moaned, his name falling from your lips in breathy gasps.

Spencer began massaging his fingers into your g-spot, drawing needy moans from your lips as he brought you closer to your release, revelling in the way you moaned his name and the way that your walls clenched around his fingers.

You got completely lost in the pleasure as you rutted your hips into his face, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face into you. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten as you squirmed and shuddered, the feeling of Spencer's fingers nonstop stimulating your sensitive spot making you a needy mess.

"C-close! 'm close, Spence." Your voice was high-pitched and whiny as you warned him, Spencer only pushing his fingers harder into you, the action pulling a loud moan from your throat as your body began to shake and tremble.

You couldn't help but sling your leg back over Spencer's shoulder, letting your thighs clench around his head as you felt your orgasm approaching. Spencer's tongue never letting up his brutal sucking and licking on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body.

Spencer began moaning and whining into you, the sounds sending vibrations through your sensitive cunt and making you cry out in pleasure as your breath came out in gasps and huffs, your whole body tending as you felt your release dangerously close.

"G-god spence, I'm gonna c-cum!" You practically wailed with no regard for how loud you were being, letting out a constant slew of desperate noises when Spencer massaged your soft spot more precisely, coaxing you to your release as he sucked harshly on your clit.

Spencer let out an especially loud moan as you tugged on his hair, the intense vibrations sending you over the edge as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your whole body shaking and writhing as your release gushed around Spencer's fingers that continued to curl into you, coaxing you through your orgasm while he gently licked at your clit.

You were breathing heavily and still shaking slightly when Spencer slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, wincing slightly as his skin dragged against your sensitive walls. You watched as he buried his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off your release like he always did, sighing at the taste before he pulled them out and leaned back in, dipping his tongue into your slit to lap up everything he could, not daring to waste any of it.

Spencer leaned his cheek on your knee when he was satisfied, looking up at you through his lashes as you lay completely fucked out with your eyes closed, a beautifully content expression on your face.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly, watching as you cracked your eyes open and furrowed your brows, scanning around the room and sitting up slightly, a smile spreading across your lips as you looked back down at him.

"I feel...great?!" You laughed slightly, completely fascinated by the effectiveness but also relieved that you'd found something that worked, both for you and for him. Spencer couldn't hide the wide smile that adorned his lips. He was overjoyed that his method worked as he pressed gentle kisses up your leg before he situated himself beside you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and sighing.

"i'm glad" 

(dookie ass ending again ik</3 i need to work on that :,)

#📬 maeve's mailbox! #he's a munch your honour! #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid request #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #mgg #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #mgg fanfiction #mgg smut #mgg imagine #mgg x reader

[dewdropdinosaur]

Green May Be His Color

ALASTOR x READER

Summary: Alastor has a crush on you and gets...shall we say - possessive.

Warnings: Make-out scene and implied smut. Rating PG-13

For the dearest @anon-of-the-void

REQUESTS OPEN

In the bustling underworld of Hell, where demons and overlords roamed freely and the souls of the damned wander, there existed a peculiar yet charming figure known as Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. With his toothy grin, a penchant for chaos and macabre humor, he was a force not to be trifled with. Except by one. 

Amidst his devilish and intimidating face, there lay a side and secrets only known to one other: Rosie, a fellow overlord and Alastor’s best and one of few friends. Rosie was well-acquainted with the inner workings of Alastor's mind, particularly his peculiar fascination with a certain dead mortal soul named Y/N. Y/N was unlike any other sinner, with a charm that transcended the boundaries of Hell itself. She had caught Alastor's attention with her old fashioned wit and grace, though he dared not confess his infatuation with the cannibal town resident.

Little did Alastor know, his affections were not as clandestine as he believed. With mischief gleaming in her eyes, Rosie concocted a devious plan to bring the two together.Rosie, with her sharp wit and mischievous nature, saw an opportunity for amusement. She knew of Y/N's fondness for tea and gossip, often indulging in such pastimes with Rosie herself. 

One evening, as the flames danced in the infernal sky, Rosie extended an invitation to both Y/N and Alastor for a tea gathering at her lavish abode. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Rosie had already informed Alastor of the rendezvous, igniting a spark of excitement within the Radio Demon's heart.

As Y/N arrived, her presence brought a sense of warmth to the dimly lit room. She greeted Rosie with a warm smile, unaware of the scheming glint in her friend's eyes. Alastor, ever the gentleman, tipped his hat in acknowledgment, his crimson eyes alight with hidden desire at the more free flowing attire his secret paramore was wearing. 

The tea flowed freely as conversation drifted from trivial matters to the depths of the underworld. Rosie, with her quick wit, subtly steered the discussion towards matters of the heart, all the while casting knowing glances at Alastor. The Radio Demon, though adept at masking his emotions, felt a tinge of unease stir within him. He knew what Rosie was playing at and was thankful for the oblivious nature of his crush. 

As the evening progressed, Rosie's playful banter grew more pronounced, her words laced with feigned flirtation directed at Y/N. Alastor, unable to contain his jealousy any longer, felt the inferno of emotions raging within him. With a sharp inhale, he rose from his seat, his gaze locking onto Y/N's. Rosie, with her devilish grin, played her part to perfection. She engaged Y/N in playful banter, leaning in a tad too close, and fluttering her lashes in feigned innocence. Alastor, observing from the sidelines with a mix of amusement and jealousy, felt his heartstrings tug tighter with each passing moment.

As Rosie's antics escalated, to actually near caress and Y/N embracing her friend back - Alastor's patience wore thin. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, he stepped forward, his presence commanding the attention of both Rosie and Y/N. With a flourish of his cane, he rose and coughed loudly. 

“Pardon me ladies, may I borrow you for a moment Y/N? I wish to discuss something outside.”

“Oh..of course Alastor. One moment Rosie.”

Placing their cup down on the side table, Y/N rose and followed Alastor down a long hallway till he stopped abruptly. 

In a moment of recklessness born from desperation, Alastor pinned Y/N against the nearby wall - encasing them between his arms as closed the distance between them in a swift motion, his lips capturing Y/N's in a fervent kiss. The room fell silent as time seemed to stand still, the air thick with anticipation.

After the kiss, Y/N's heart raced with a mixture of surprise and warmth. She pulled back slightly, meeting Alastor's intense gaze. Each one’s breath heavily with affection and lust.

“Alastor... I... I didn't expect…”

Alastor, his crimson eyes ablaze with a possessive fervor, cut her off before she could finish. “Expectation is for the mundane, my dear. But your presence in this infernal realm has ignited a spark within me that defies logic and convention.” 

“I suppose love has a way of doing that, even in Hell.”

Alastor's jaw tightened, a flicker of jealousy crossing his features as he glanced towards Rosie, who observed the scene with a knowing smirk and a low growl. 

“That infernal minx... She knew exactly what she was doing, toying with my affections like that.”

Y/N chuckled, placing a reassuring hand on Alastor's arm “It's alright, Alastor. Rosie's just... playful, you know?”

Alastor's grip on his cane tightened, his frustration evident as he struggled to rein in his emotions, gritting his teeth.

“Playful or not, I won't stand for anyone else trying to claim what's rightfully mine.”

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his possessive declaration, a blush spreading across her cheeks as she whispered softly, staring at his lips. 

“And what exactly do you consider to be "yours," Alastor?”

Alastor's gaze softened, the fiery intensity giving way to a tender warmth as he reached out to cup Y/N's cheek.

“You, my dear. Your laughter, your company, your... affection. All of it. It belongs to me, and me alone.”

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her eyes locked with Alastor's in a silent exchange of understanding and acceptance.

“Well then, I suppose you'll just have to keep me close, won't you?”

Alastor's lips curled into a devilish smirk, his possessiveness giving way to a newfound sense of determination as he leaned in close once more. 

“Oh, you can count on it, my dear. I intend to keep you closer than anyone else ever could.” Slamming his lips back into hers, that hallway ended up being taken of its innocence. 

And as Rosie listened on with a satisfied smirk, she knew that her mischief had borne fruit, paving the way for a love that defied the very fabric of their world.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #answered #vizziepop #alastor the radio demon #radio killed the video star #request #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #help me this fandom has a hold on my soul #rosie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel rosie #cursed cat alastor #rosie the cannibal #ha ha fuck me Alastor

[warnersister]

Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

#masterlist #xreader #smut #fluff #warner sister #angst #requests #x you #imagine #top gun #top gun maverick x reader #top gun x reader #topgunmaverick #top gun fandom #top gun imagine #top gun 1986 #topgun #top gun maverick #rooster #Bradley #Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #Bradley Bradshaw #roosterxreader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster top gun

[iconsumethesoulsofthedamned]

AT EVERYONE WHO WANTED THEM FISHING

#fanart #ictsotd-art #fanart request #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannibal fandom #hannigram fanart #hannigram #will graham #will graham fanart #will x hannibal #will graham fishing #murder husbands #artsists on tumblr #digital art

[black-dhalias]

To Belong

Leah Clearwater X Vampire!Reader

It wasn’t supposed to be like this—you were a lover of the arts and prospective ballerina. You were an artist. A performer and perfectionist. A lover, not really a fighter at all. You were graceful and kind, and you were good. You had a million and one dreams, and a future with so many hopes.

And in a flash, you had none of it.

When you felt the venom pound through your veins, you had hoped for death. The flurry of red hair was all you could remember of those last moments, that, and that you were going to be late for your audition.

“Smell this.” You do and pass the short along, the humans scent clings to it and now to you—without a doubt, all you knew these last months was orders. Do as your told and make it to the next day. You only knew bloodlust, no more dreams to keep your sanity together.

Everything was different, even the temporary sun of Seattle seemed to sing a different song. You had no dance left in you at all. Yet despite the subtle knowledge that you’re going to die before the end of this, you continue to follow the rules.

You just can’t bring yourself to care at all, you already lost everything—Riley made sure you knew that much. In the end, there’s nothing left of your life to return to. You move with the others—you don’t belong here though. You never belonged with them. You stop, the moment Riley separates from the group—the moment you heard the onslaught of growls. You stop completely in your tracks.

You don’t want to die.

You back into the rocks and drop down, knowing only one thing—that this is not your fight. “My name is Y/N.” You close your eyes. “I’m 18 years old.” Knees brace against your chest. “I was a ballet dancer. I died.” The sound of shattering bodies makes you squint harder, every sound sends a ricochet through you.

Make it go away.

“My name is Y/N. I died, and I just want to go home.” It has to go away, you don’t want this. You wish they would have just killed you.

“Hi Y/N.” You look up at the man with golden blonde hair and striking gold eyes. You would be crying, you want to cry. You don’t move, preparing yourself to die.

“I’m sorry—I-I don’t—” You shake your head, “I can’t—I don’t want to do this.” You are pleading with the gods more than him, wishing they’ll have mercy on you when it’s all done. You used to believe in god.

“Shhhh….” He soothes, “it’s okay… We won’t hurt you…” you follow him hesitantly, anxious to even be walking… You are their enemy, but they do not attack—they watch you with feverish pity, you hat their pity even more.

You did not expect the wolves, but in spite of your fear—you cannot look away from one of the smaller gray wolves. And if you weren’t on edge. You would almost say that they were watching you.

It all came down to a trade, Bree died and you lived—the insistence of the Cullens had saved you. Even though you came here to kill their human, they defended you. One of them even argued it had to be you. They were convincing enough.

Days turned to weeks and then weeks into months—the diet came easier than it sounded. Your eyes had begun to shift to a deep shade of gold. You almost hated yourself a little less. You put on a smile and walk in the direction of the stairs before stopping at the sight of—well you’ve never met her. Yet those eyes are familiar. Hair cropped short and dark, lips full and god those eyes.

“Sorry, I had to meet you.” Her apology is confusing, you tilt your head as you stop yourself from moving. You want to be close, but something in the way she is away—it makes you think that she doesn’t want you close.

“I know you.”

“Yeah we met once.” You nod, finally taking. A step forward and she steps back to match.

“The battle…” She nods, arms around her torso. “You were the little wolf.” This time she hesitates and does not move as you take another step down.

“Like I said, I had to meet you just once.” She swallows, studying how you move and every facet of your appearance. It’s a little like seeing the sun after years of being in the dark. Leah did not know what it meant to long for something, not in this way, until she had spent months battling every instinct. While a part of her is drawn to you, the other half is furious at the universe.

If she would have gone to Seattle a day before you were turned, bumped into you just once. Leah would have been there, but now you are a vampire. You were everything she was supposed to hate. And despite you being a stranger and a bloodsucker—she hates you less than most.

“I’m Y/N—” Leah knew your name, she had obsessed over you for months—hours googling you. Your missing persons report and family posts, they were shocking and painful. They were full of blistered memories from people who knew you better, but they pained Leah.

“Leah.” You smile and Leah loses herself for a moment, had tried to tell herself that she would feel nothing because you weren’t human. But she feels every second of your presence. In another universe. But Leah was certain the moment you smiled, that even in this universe—she chooses you.

“Well Leah, we have officially met now.” Yeah and now she doesn’t know what to say, and she rocks onto the balls of her feet. You can hear how hard her heart pounds, racing. “I do have to go right now, but I can give you my number?” Leah nods, takes it down and follows you out of the house. You don’t seem like a vampire at all, you seem oddly human.

“Bye Leah.” Then you are gone and Leah is on the porch, in quiet and calm.

“Bye.”

How long are you supposed to wait? When is it appropriate for Leah to hit send on a message? She had rewrote it a hundred times already. An hour. Leah hits send… Oh, god it was too quick. She begins to panic, rolling over in bed.

‘Hey! I was just about to text you!’

Her lips form into a smile, all of these good things and at the same time, the worry mounts once more. What is she supposed to say?

‘Yeah. I didn’t want to bother you since you rushed out.’

Read, god she really hopes you feel anxious too, terrified that she is reading too much into this. Terrified of even thinking about the one thing that she knows for certain—that she is already caught up in you.

You smile at your phone, leaning into the couch.

‘You don’t bother me at all.’

You type it all so fast and hit send. You almost don’t hate yourself as you go back and forth with her.

‘Good lol. So what’re you up to?’

That was the beginning of one long conversation—no one ever said good night or good morning, everything just continued. Over and over, on the daily. Leah had wrecked her sleep schedule just to see your name grace her screen.

It made everyday worth while.

It was late, your voice echoes over speaker… Leah was hushed, her voice groggy as she tells you about her day.

“Leah?” She hmmms and you continue. “Get some rest. We-”

Leah interjects: “Just talk—I just—”

“Okay.” You rummage through the shelves as quickly as possible, and return to the. All before she even knows you are gone.

“Mr and Mrs Dursley of Number 4 Privot drive, we’re proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” You hear her laugh on the other end of the call, sleep intertwined with the sound.

“Harry Potter, really?” You kind of chuckle, pausing as you listen.

“I never read it.” You were so odd with how you said it, like it was the simplest thing in the world. She never questioned it further and as your voice lulled her to sleep—you can help your smile.

Seth tosses a cream colored envelope in her direction as they sit at the table, his other hand holding the muffin he’s devouring. While the letter itself is unexpected, the scent on it is familiar and known. She tears into the envelope quickly, watching an invitation fall out with messy writing in the corner.

Her eyes draw to the signature first— Y/N.

Leah wonders if you know what you do to her head, the mess you have caused and the inhibitions you have broken. Nothing about you was simple, and it drove her wild. She had only been talking to you actively for a month, but it was like she had known you for years.

Hey Leah!

Not sure if you’ll come, but I really could use some company at this wedding. And I’d rather it be you.

Love Y/N

It was that easy. Leah suddenly was invited to a wedding for people she barely tolerates and she’ll be there with a smile. She hadn’t seen you since you gave her your phone number, and since then—you had consumed her every waking thought.

“So you’re going?” Leah glances up at Seth, shrugging her shoulders—trying to seem nonchalant.

“Yeah, I guess.” Seth rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his muffin.

“Ya know, you imprinted on her. It’s okay to, ya know—be excited about getting to go with her.” Leah again shrugs, really looking at the way your writing jumps out. Your name. “You’re impossible, Leah.”

.

.

Leah tucks her hair behind her ears, trying her best to not to look as giddy as she feels. She had ruined her sleep to talk to you, and spent half her day waiting for your name to brighten up her phone.

‘I’m here’—Leah hits send, almost instantly the message is read and she smiles. Watching those three little dots…. Anticipation…. They disappear, and her heart drops.

“Leah!” She looks up and spots you at the top of the stairs—stunning. This definitely beats phone calls and text messages, because you just exist and Leah is absolutely enamored. “Oh I’m glad you made it!” You were halfway down the stairs before Leah could bring herself to even notice how beautiful you looked. Your hair done up, and eyes glittering the brightest shade of gold—like rich caramel, or amber. Or how you were wearing slacks with a vibrant maroon button down, and somehow was both feminine and masculine. Lips shaded a brilliant red.

“I see now why you had me wear maroon—” The way your expression seems to lift, eyes brightening… Leah is certain that you would be blushing.

“I thought the color would suit you.”

“Or you just wanted us to match?” You again, get that look as she points out exactly what you were thinking. You liked Leah, a lot more than anticipated and enjoyed the closeness.

“The color does look nice on you. I wouldn’t peg you as someone to like dresses.” She kind of half shrugs, again trying to seem as nonchalant as she can be. However, unconsciously—as she rocks on her heels, you note the way the dress moves just a little. You wonder if she’d make your heart race? Would she? Could she?

You don’t know where the confidence comes from—where you found the nerve to grab her hand as you lead her into the wedding. You knew next to no one here, besides her and the Cullens; everyone else was a stranger. Sure you knew Seth’s voice from the times he’d interrupt Leah on the phone. Sure you knew of people, but you didn’t know any of them.

Which made it that much easier, because she was pretty much the only person you needed nowadays. At first, Leah is hesitant to accept the way your hand felt—it was cold, but it was not uncomfortable. It was firm, but again, not uncomfortable. Nothing about you made her uncomfortable at all.

Being near you was as easy as breathing for Leah.

The Cullens took you in, and protected you when the Volturi wanted nothing more than to kill you. They gave you a home when you were certain you had nothing left to have.

“We’re outnumbered.” You tense up, you aren’t a newborn anymore, but you are close enough and you draw in on that strength.

“By a lot.” For family right? That’s what this is all about, and even as you stand adjacent to Alice—you wonder where you would be without them? Dead. That’s the only answer.

“I won’t let them hurt my family.” You tighten your stance, preparing yourself all at once for the oncoming assault.

“Neither will I.” It’s the four of you versus everyone else, just you against the wolves and it seems like every time you are certain you can breathe. Another wolf takes their place.

Even when the others arrive, you are left pinned—hands barred on either side of a wolves jaw. Screaming for help. You turn your head to the side, saving yourself from the teeth—hair tangling with the dirt. You hear a growl, eyes opening to see Leah moving quickly. For a moment, you are back at the battle field. The moment that changed everything, and gave you a second chance.

Once Leah is in front of you, the wolves redirect their attacks—avoiding you at every turn.

Leah’s body is wrapped almost entirely around you, spooning you close as her arms lazily hang over your shoulders. Her cheek pressing against the side of your head. Something about the way her heart beats, it soothes your soul.

“Why’d they stop attacking me?” Every muscle in her body seems to tense, just slightly, but enough for you to notice the change.

“Because I’d kick all their butts before they got to you.” You smile lightly, enjoying the sound of her voice as she smiles back—laughing just a little. But the way the sound catches in her throat, it tells you that there’s more to it.

“Cute, but really? Why? It made no sense, one second I was a prime rib and the next—it was like they were avoiding me.”

“Are you really questioning why they didn’t want to kill you anymore?” You kind of shifts your body so that you are facing her, still leaning into her—her fingers ghosting over your face to brush the hair out of your face.

“Yeah because I think there’s something you’re not telling me.” Leah purses her lips, you can see the thoughts physically forming in her head—like she’s trying to come up with a good story. You see her kind of give in, face relaxing as she sighs—tightening her grasp on you.

Nervous, you try to soothe her worries—laying across her chest, head tucked into the spot between her neck and shoulder. Arms wound around her as you listen to the lull of her heart. Even with the way the air catches in her throat, the sudden shift in her demeanor.

“I imprinted.” Your brow contorts, only hearing of imprinting one time before—sacred. That’s how Edward described it. “And if they hurt you, they would have broken everything we believe in.” Leah’s throat tightens, she had wondered many times of things would be different? What would have happened if you were human? Would she care more? Would she know you?

“Do you love me?” It was that simple, you didn’t ask the big questions or the complicated ones. Your eyes were wide and for a moment she just studied your expression, it was a half as second.

“Imprint or not, I’d love you either way.” Maybe it would have taken longer, but it didn’t matter because she has you now. Your sweet smile, it’s all Leah needs to know that much. She would have found you eventually.

“Good.” You hum out the word, smiling as you lean in to place a soft kiss on her lips.

#imagines #imagine #requests are open #fandom request #imagine requests #x reader #requests #love #request away #reader insert #twilight pack imagines #twilight imagine #leah clearwater #Leah Clearwater imagine #Leah Clearwater x reader #x female reader

[local-diavolo-anon]

so help wanted 2 is out

and i would die for jack-o-moon

look at them

they look so cool

i love the colors, they feel like a reference to how the fandom drew eclipse before Ruin! (which makes sense since jack-o-moon kinda looks like the bb minigame eclipse)

Edit: thinking about it, why is this guy's name jack o Moon?

Like this is Sun's model repainted, it doesn't have a nightcap, why would this guy be named "Moon" then?

Edit 2: please not again, please stop liking this

#not an ask #fnaf moon #fnaf #me ranting #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf jack-o-moon #jack o moon #like i am sure it is a reference to the bb minigame eclipse #and how the fandom drew them #it even has red hands and rays #the pic comes from jack o moon's wikia page #help wanted 2 spoilers #fnaf help wanted 2 spoilers #forgot to tag that #mea culpa #why are my most noted posts just pics of characters from the wikia #i draw and write i make art and writing requests #please #why are my most like posts just these #i post fnaf and genshin and mxtx novel art #i take commissions #please this is agony T-T

[storiesforallfandoms]

height advantage ~ jacob elordi

word count: 2857

request?: yes!

“Can you write how a 5’2 photographer was having trouble getting good shots at the Met Gala because people kept pushing in front of her so Jacob Elordi held her hand and helped her get to the front so she could get some good shots and then she gave him her business card to hook up in the future please and thank you”

description: in which the tall actor helps the short photographer to get good shots

pairing: jacob elordi x short!female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

Being short as a photographer was a major disadvantage. Sure, sometimes you were able to get to the front of the pack at events, but most times the other photographers were too hungry for the money shots to remember common decency. You were shoved and stood in front of and completely ignored on more than one occasion. Most nights, you were lucky to get some good pictures of the first few people to arrive at the red carpet. You were terrified that your agency was going to can you soon.

You were given the opportunity to photograph the next MET Gala. It would be huge for your career, if you could get any pictures. You were determined not to let anyone shove in front of you tonight. You were going to get good pictures tonight. You were determined.

There was a dull chatter among the photographers as they waited for the event to start. It all went away basically immediately when the first vehicle pulled up. The interviewers got into place as every camera was immediately raised. The dull chatter became yells and camera flashes as the first celebrity stepped onto the carpet. You had been holding onto the barrier to really make sure no one stood in front of you, but now there were enough bodies pressing you against the barrier that you felt confident that you wouldn’t be moved. You got a lot of good snaps as more guests began to arrive. You were feeling almost giddy.

You paused long enough to check a photo you had just taken, but that was enough for a photographer next to you to start elbowing you to get in front of you.

“Hey, watch it!” you snapped.

“You snooze, you lose, kid,” he said before stepping on front of you.

You tried to step around him, but the space around him was quickly filled in. You sighed and got onto the tips of your toes, raising you camera over your head and hoping the shots you were getting were good ones.

Someone hit your arm and snapped, “Move, you’re blocking my shot!”

You almost dropped your camera and turned to curse out the person who hit you proved to be a mistake when you were just shoved further. You started to panic. You couldn’t see the red carpet anymore, so you certainly weren’t going to get any good pictures. Your boss was going to kill you if you came back with a small handful of pictures again.

“Hey! Is she okay there?”

An accented voice cut through the commotion around you. You tried to get a look at what was going on, but your efforts were for naught. You were starting to wonder if you should just leave and take whatever verbal lashing you were going to get from your boss.

Until the sea of photographers suddenly parted and a towering figure was looking down at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You were so taken by him that you couldn’t form a single sentence. He was so handsome, and so goddamn tall. Not just tall by your standards; everyone normally towered over you, but he towered over everyone. And he was looking - talking - directly at you. The photographers around you weren’t sure if they should be taking pictures or not, so they just kept looking between the two of you in shock.

You remembered he had asked you a question and finally managed to snap out of your trance. “Oh, you, I’m okay. Just being shoved around a bit. That’s par for the course with this profession.”

He extended a hand to you. You took it and gasped when he pulled you forward towards the barrier again. To those around you he said, “She stands here and she stays here. I get that you all have a job to do, but there’s no reason you need to trample one of your own for a good stop. Especially when she’s the smallest one among you all. No offense.”

You shook your head, once again unable to speak.

He smiled and winked at you before stepping back. “Here, get a shot of my good side.”

It took you a moment to remember what you were even supposed to be doing, and quickly fumbled with your camera to start taking pictures again.

Your fellow photographers were quick to move on from the encounter when a new celebrity arrived to the red carpet, but your gaze lingered on him as he started to walk away. You were almost embarrassed to say you had no idea who he was. He was obviously someone famous, but you didn’t recognize him. Either way, he was your savior tonight and you didn’t get the chance to thank him for helping you.

The rest of the night passed quickly after that. No one else shoved or trampled you, so you managed to get a lot of good photos. Once the last celebrity had arrived and entered the building, the reporters and photographers began to disperse. Some went into the building to photograph the events of the night, but you weren’t one of those so you were able to get ready to leave. You started texting your boss to let her know you’d scan the pictures onto your laptop when you got home and send them along right away when you heard someone behind you say, “Hey, was everything alright after?”

You turned to see the tall guy from earlier coming up to you.

“Oh...hi,” you said. “Yes, everything was fine. Thank you for your help there, by the way. I thought for sure I was going to be leaving another event with more pictures of the back of people’s heads than the actual event.”

“Does that happen often?”

“I mean...look at me.” You gestured to your small stature.

He chuckled. “Okay, point taken.”

“My name is (Y/N), by the way.”

“Jacob.”

You shook his hand. “Shouldn’t you be inside, by the way? The event is just starting.”

“I stepped out for some air. I come to these things for the charity aspect, but they’re not really my thing. I plan to eat and slip out immediately afterwards.”

Before I could respond, my Uber pulled up.

“I won’t keep you from getting home,” Jacob said. “I saw you out here and just wanted to check in.”

“I appreciate it, and I appreciate you helping me out back there.”

“Hey, I had to use my height advantage for good eventually. In this case, it helped me to spot a cute photographer before she was turned into a pancake.”

You felt your face heating up at his compliment. Suddenly you were tongue tied again and didn’t have enough time to try and figure out a response because your Uber driver was impatiently waiting for you.

You suddenly remembered the business cards you kept with you in case you ever got to talking with event organizers or celebrities looking for photographers for their photoshoots (or agencies with better pay and benefits, but you’d never say that out lout). You dug one out of your purse and passed it to Jacob. “In case you ever need a cute photographer for a shoot. Or...I don’t know, if you just want to talk.”

He looked down at your business card before smiling at you. “Is this your personal number or a business one?”

“Personal. It’s easier to reach me on my cell than to try and call my workplace.”

“I’ll remember that, then.”

You nodded and finally managed to break yourself from his trance. Your Uber driver was glaring at you through the rearview mirror as you climbed into his car, but you could’ve cared less. You glanced out the window as the car began to pull away. Jacob was still looking down at your business card, a light smile on his lips. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself in return. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long before you heard from Jacob again.

~~~~~~

The next day you were at your desk, going over some of the pictures from the night before to submit to your boss. You had managed to scan the photos onto your laptop when you got home the night before, but it was so late that your boss told you to wait until this morning to submit them. Most publications had their pictures from the Gala posted immediately after they were taken, so your boss said she wasn’t in any rush to have them.

“It gives you more time to pick out the good ones to be submitted,” she had told you.

Your phone vibrated, pulling your attention away from work for just a split second. You looked down to see an unknown number was trying to text me.

“looking for a cute photographer. know anyone who fits the bill? :) - j”

I smiled to myself.

“i may have some ideas. depends on what you’re looking for.”

The response came almost immediately.

“looking for someone to join me for coffee. say in about 15 minutes?”

The urge to shut down your computer and immediately run to meet Jacob was strong. But you knew you had work to do first, even though you would much rather be sitting across from him at some coffee shop than in your cubicle.

“finishing an assignment for work and then i’ll be free for my break. just text me a place and i’ll meet you there :)”

Within 20 minutes, you were approaching the place Jacob had told you to meet him. You didn’t have to look for him as he was stood waiting for you, his tall stature basically sticking out like a sore thumb. You didn’t think you had ever met anyone as tall as him before. It was almost intimidating, if he wasn’t so hot.

He looked up as you approached and smiled. “Hey!”

You were shocked when he pulled you in for a hug, but graciously took the display of affection.

“How was the rest of your night?” you asked as you both stepped into the shop and got into line.

“It was alright. Did as I said and slipped out after eating, but not before hearing a couple of the speeches they do talking about the event’s history and why they choose the yearly trends and stuff.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m lucky I didn’t die of boredom.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“If you really think that, I’ll take you to the next one I get invited to and you can sit through all the speeches. Then you can tell me if it’s not that bad.”

You tried not to dwell on the fact that he was already talking about taking you to an event with him. You knew that it was way too quickly to be thinking about stuff like that - this was literally the second time you had met him and the first time you were actually spending any amount of time together - but there was something about the fact that he was already planning ahead like that that gave you some hope for where this was going.

After ordering your coffees and stepping aside to wait for them, Jacob asked, “How was your night? Surely it was much better than mine.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. I got home, put on my pajamas, and watched some trashy Netflix reality until I fell asleep.”

“At least trashy reality has some excitement.”

“A lot more than listening to speeches about the history of the MET Gala.”

“I could’ve looked up a Wikipedia article and read the whole thing from start to finish and it would’ve been more exciting than listening to that.”

You giggled. The barista gave you your coffees and you moved to a table by the window to sit down.

“How long do I have you for?” Jacob asked.

“Our breaks can last anywhere between 30 minutes to an hour. Usually if it’s 30 minutes, you get another 30 minute break later on. If it’s the full hour, I only get this one break today.”

“Well, I’ll try not to be stingy with your time, but I think I’m going to have some difficulty in letting you leave.”

“I gotta say, you are quite the flirt.”

“Only when I really like someone.”

We spent most of the time getting to know one another. You admitted that you hadn’t heard of Jacob before, so he told you about some of the movies and shows he had done. You had only heard of Euphoria, but had never watched it nor did you have any desire to. Jacob told you he wouldn’t hold it against you that you hadn’t seen any of his work. You told him about going to college for photography fresh out of high school because you knew that was the one thing you wanted to do more than anything. You were lucky enough that the company you did your work term with wanted to take you in full time after you graduated, and you were still there years later.

“You mentioned that stuff like what happened to you last night is a normal occurrence?” he asked.

You sighed. “Yeah. I mean, in general it is par for the course that photographers at such events can be a little ruthless. We all want the good shots that can and will be used, that’s how we make our money. But it’s especially hard for me because I am a short woman. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of female photographers who get taken just as seriously as the male ones, but there are also plenty of male photographers who aren’t afraid to shove a woman out of their way to get their shot instead of another man. Throw in the fact that I’m usually the shortest one in attendance and I become an easy target. Get me out of the way, get in my space, and then that’s it for me.”

“That’s awful,” Jacob said. “You’d think being shorter than they are would make it easier for them to just shoot around you instead of moving you out of the way.”

“You would think, but that’s not the case.” You shrugged. “It’s nothing new for me. I was always the shortest person in the room, and thus was treated one way or another because of it. It’s just now I’m worried that if I can’t do my job properly I’ll be fired.”

“They can’t fire you for being short.”

“They can if I’m not getting any pictures when I’m sent to red carpet events. Most of the time I only get the first one or two people to arrive and that’s it. My boss is mostly understanding about it, but I know realistically she can’t keep me if I’m not able to do my job. Or at least she won’t send me out to events anymore, which would be just as bad as getting fired honestly. I don’t want to just sit behind a desk all day using photoshop to fix up pictures before they’re published.”

The mention of your job had you glancing down at your watch and realizing how much time had passed. “Shit! I gotta be back to work in 10 minutes.”

“Already?” Jacob had a crestfallen look on his face.

“I know. I would much rather stay with you. I’m enjoying our conversation.”

Jacob stood as you did. “Let me walk you back to work at least. We can prolong the goodbyes that way.”

You accepted and you both headed towards your job. The walk was silent at first. You were trying to find something to ask him so that the time wasn’t wasted in silence, but nothing was coming to your head right now.

Luckily, Jacob broke the silence by asking, “When do you usually get off work?”

“Around 5,” you responded.

“Maybe we could pick this up when you’re off then. If you feel up for it, that is. I get it if you’d rather do nothing after working all day.”

“Well...normally I do prefer to spend my evenings by myself after work. But, if this isn’t too forward to ask, maybe you could come over and we could keep getting to know each other.”

His face lit up. “I’d like that a lot.”

He took you by surprise once more as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. If you weren’t already so enamored by this man, you probably would’ve been thinking about how funny the two of you looked together - the under 5′ photographer and the over 6′ actor. But all I could think about was how Jacob wanted to see me again so soon, and how much I did want to see him too. It was hard to break away and go back to work, but I knew I’d get in trouble if I showed up late from my break.

The only thing that kept me going was the smile on Jacob’s face as I turned back around to look at him, and the thought that it wouldn’t be too much longer until I got to see him again.

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[crow-cap]

NO LONGER ACCEPTING REQUESTS as it is past the 28th!!

thank you to everyone who donated, and I’ll complete the requests that are currently pending but will not be taking any more.

hi! to help encourage donations, i’m offering drawings to anyone who donates or sends an e-sim to gaza. here is a tutorial on how on the gaza e-sims website and here is another one on tumblr. check the notes of this post for discount codes if you’re into that. i will be doing this until the 28th of february!

alternatively, you can donate to any one of these instead:

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OR donate to any other legitimate fundraiser!

i am only accepting donations made from 10th feb onwards! send me a screenshot of your receipt with timestamps through DMs or email me at [email protected] (but cover your personal details), along with the character you would like. sending one or two reference images is also highly encouraged!

there’s no lower limit to donations that i’ll draw for! a dollar or two is still money, and every little bit helps. that said, I won’t be spending over 5 hours on any one drawing so that i don’t burn out. im going to try and do as many of these as i can, but if i am uncomfortable with your request i will refuse it (but that almost certainly won’t happen tho)

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[rynwritesreid]

I am obsessed w Ryan Gosling wearing a necklace with his wife’s initials on it to the Barbie Premiere!!!! Can we see Spencer doing the same thing, maybe to the office or a team dinner ? 😍

A/N: this is such a cute idea, and if I am being honest this is defo something early to mid season Spencer would have done. Thank you for the request:)

Summary: it’s basically as requested. I have added in some detail about other women flirting with him and that’s why he decides to wear it, but he does still wear it to the office.

Content: fluff. Fem!reader. Other people flirt with Spencer, but he doesn’t reciprocate.

Masterlist| requests are open| navigation

Spencer was aware he got attention from other women; he knew he was attractive. He never flirted back, or really gave anyone else the time of day and he was very open with the fact he was in a very committed relationship with you. You were also not prone to jealousy, you didn’t really like other people trying to flirt with Spencer, but you understood he was an attractive and very intelligent man. 

Spencer though, he had become to hate it. He didn’t understand why people didn’t care he loved you, that he was in a relationship with you, and only wanted you. He, being the ever-intelligent man he is, had come up with a solution.

“Hey, I have something to show you.” Spencer reached into his pocket and pulled out a medium sized box. “Before you get too excited, this isn’t a ring. It’s a necklace with your initials on it.” 

“Are you going to wear that?” you asked with a smile, feeling a warm flutter in your chest as you looked at the delicate necklace in Spencer's hand. The silver chain glinted under the soft glow of the evening sun filtering through the window, and the initials intertwined beautifully, a testament to your bond.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am. I want everyone to know who my heart belongs too.” 

And with a tender smile, Spencer carefully fastened the necklace around his neck, the cool metal resting against his warm skin. As it settled into place, he stood up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and sure.

"I love you," Spencer whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "And I want the whole world to know that you're mine."

*

The next day, Spencer turned up to work wearing the necklace. JJ was the first to notice, her eyes scanning the necklace, wondering why he had suddenly started wearing jewellery.

"What's that, Spence?" JJ asked, tilting her head in curiosity. Spencer smiled, his eyes lighting up as he adjusted the necklace instinctively.

"It's for Y/N," he replied proudly, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of determination. "I want everyone to know that she's the one I love."

JJ's gaze softened as she took in his words, understanding the significance of the gesture. She nodded approvingly, a small smile playing on her lips.

"That's sweet, Spencer," JJ said, her tone genuine. "I'm happy for you both."

Derek had overheard what JJ had said to Spencer, and while he also did think it was cute and he would never tell a man that wearing any jewellery wasn’t masculine, he still wanted to tease Spencer a little. 

"Hey Pretty Boy, since when did you become a fashion icon?" Derek teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sauntered over to Spencer's desk. Spencer rolled his eyes good-naturedly, used to Derek's playful banter.

“Oh, you think I’m a fashion icon because this, Derek?” Spencer grinned, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted the necklace once more. "Well, let's just say I'm setting a new trend."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, Reid, if you say so. Just don't let Garcia catch you. She might think you're stealing her accessory game."

Spencer laughed at the thought of Garcia's reaction, imagining her excitement at seeing him embrace a new fashion statement. It felt good to have his friends' support and light-hearted teasing about his gesture towards you.

No one else seemed to care, Garcia had done a squeal of excitement when she saw the necklace and realised the initials were yours. But other than that, no one seemed to fuss over it.

*

Though he had noticed that he friends and colleagues didn’t seem to care about his necklace anymore, he had noticed how other women would interact with him. They seemed to glare at the two initials dangling around his neck and back off.

Spencer found himself almost amused by the reaction of the women who used to flirt with him. Their glares held a mix of disappointment and frustration, as if his simple act of wearing a necklace had somehow dashed their hopes. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at their reactions, knowing that he was making it clear to everyone where his heart truly belonged.

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[bindeds]

Hello

Could I request a Lucifer x reader smut pretty please I BEG ON MY KNEES IM PLEADING

Lucifer fucks you from behind while on the balcony, a wide view of Hell in front of you 🤭

Kind of languid sex but he could go faster if he wanted to, ykwimmm

Thank you my love <333

no thank you jay! <333 i seriously needed this omg …

m.list request status ( +18. )

“Mm-m-mm! Luci …”

Your moans spilled in time with his thrusts as your fingers curled around cold metal for dear life. It was a long, long way down after all.

Lucifer’s hands crept over either side of you, but from where you stood they looked like claws cornering you in. Your hands and his clutched the same railing, his chest flush against your back.

“You’re taking me so good, sweetie, fuck …” He praised in a low voice. “Mm, but I wonder …”

He’d changed his angle in an instant, and you let out a choked scream. That damned spot.

“Oh? Did I hit the jackpot?” He grunted as he rutted into you in cruel snaps of his hips—each frenzied stroke leaving a sting worse than the last. “Let’s see …”

He dragged his hips away from your ass and pulled out almost completely. A chill breeze blew past before a pang of pleasure erupted in you, quite literally pushing you over the edge with your upper stomach keeling off the rail.

The red buildings swayed and danced in your vision, smoke reduced to nothing more than smudges as you tried to come back from the blow.

He pulled out til only the tip remained at your soaked entrance. “A lovely sound you just made, my love.”

He rammed into you again, your body reverberating from the impact as you shivered uncontrollably. Even now, the circuits in both your brain and your pussy had been fried to a crisp. Your lashes fluttered. Your jaw hung loose.

He chuckled with a grin next to your ear as he planted a wet kiss on your jaw. He ran a hand from the side of your breast all the way down to your hip, gluing himself to your back completely.

“Letting eeeveryone know who’s pleasing you, aren’t you darling?”

“Yes …”

He continued at a slower pace than when he’d stopped, but with all the things he’d already done, it was enough to lift you back on that peak.

“Cumming soon, fuck …”

“Me too,” he hummed your name sweetly, his breath thin as he hissed from the pleasure you coated him in. “Let’s make this count, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for your answer before he returned to that merciless pace you knew all too well, making you cry out for the rest of the pentagram to hear.

#hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #( ​✮ hazbin. ) #( ◛ requests. ) #◟𓂅 𓄹 splash zone. #( ໒꒱ hazbin drabbles. )

[yes-divine-ruler]

(18+!!) ok wait so… It’s Halloween… you’re out with Tate… he can’t keep it together because your costume makes him horny.

Tate holds your hand tightly as you both venture down the sidewalk. His costume is eerily familiar. He wears a long, black trench coat and his face had been painted in likeness to a skeleton. His blonde, usually curly, hair is slicked back out of his face. His grip on your hand tightens as you pass by other people your age, some shamelessly taking in the appearance of your revealing costume. Much to Tate’s annoyance, you insisted that Halloween was the one time of year you had an excuse to dress like you were begging for it. The delicate lace that decorates your cleavage distracts Tate more than once. His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans just from lingering beside you. At times, he takes a moment to trail behind you to catch a glimpse of the mounded flesh of your ass cheeks from under your tiny skirt. You know what his game is, of course, and occasionally brush the back of your hand across the front of his jeans. Tate doesn’t take to it lightly, and after teasing him for the forth, and final, time, he has no choice but to trap you behind a big, oak tree in the park and bend you over. His fingers make quick work of your panties, tugging the thin, soaked piece of fabric down your long legs. Your ass jiggles around his hand as he sinks his fingers into your dripping cunt, curling them upwards to press against your sweet spot. “Thought you could tease me and get away with it? In that little, slutty costume?” He mumbles huskily against the shell of your ear, tickling his nose with the freshly-washed hair on the side of your head. You smelt like vanilla, and a hint of coconut. A sweet and sensual scent that had Tate moaning softly against you. Tate spits, directly onto your needy cunt, using his fingertips to spread the saliva over your pulsing clit. “Tate, please, I need you inside me,” you plead, reaching around to grasp onto his throbbing cock, sure to be staining his boxers with smears of pre-cum. Tate unveils his rock-hard length, stroking it with a mix of your arousal and his saliva. He teases you, circling your entrance with the leaking tip of his cock. Caving to his own eagerness, it’s not long before Tate is stretching you out with his girth. Your fingernails dig into the flaking bark of the tree, trying your hardest to find the leverage you need to soften each ravaging thrust. Soft whimpers turn into loud, destitute moans. Tate’s hand wraps around your mouth to stop the ruckus you’re making in an attempt to shield you from the eyes of passer-byers. “That’s it baby, take my fucking cock. You love how it fills you to the fucking brim, don’t you?” Tate’s grip on you only get tighter as he slams into your poor, little cunt, using it to alleviate his painful desire for you. Stars appear behind your closed eyelids when Tate’s free hand slithers down between your body and the trunk of the tree to stimulate your swollen clit. “Uh fuck- can feel you squeezing tight around me, let up sweetheart, you’re going to make me cum,” Tate seethes behind clenched teeth, the lewd, squelching sounds each thrust pulls from your dripping cunt pushing you both a step towards release. It’s not long before the intense pleasure of Tate’s tip nudging against your sweet spot sends you over the edge. Tate holds you up as your orgasm washes over you in big, tremulous waves. Tate growls into your hair, a few last thrust just enough for him to let go inside of your clenching walls. When he pulls out, he’s quick to pull up your panties, rubbing over the cloth to make sure his cum stays with you. “You’re gonna walk around the rest of the night with these soaking wet panties. And I don’t want to hear a single complaint. You little tease.” He tucks himself away, and taking a hold of your hand again, he begins to pace down the sidewalk like nothing happened. Even though, you can barely stand on your two feet from how weak your legs are now.

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters requests #evan peters smut #evan peters imagine #evan peters x reader #american horror story #2nd person pov #fem!reader #tate langdon fanfic #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon smut #tate langdon imagine #tate langdon #ahs murder house #ahs smut #ahs fandom #ahsfx