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cutielando · 2 days

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maiden win ~ lando norris

Synopsis: Lando finally gets the win he deserves🧡

Words: 1.2k+

Other works: my masterlist

a/n: you guys cannot even understand how happy i am for my man right here. so deserved🧡🧡🧡

♡♡♡♡♡

You had felt something in your gut from the moment you had touched down in Miami with Lando. You had felt good about what was to come from the weekend.

Lando felt the same way, but seeing as the last time he felt that confident about his pace had been Russia in 2021, he didn’t want to jinx it.

The Sprint hadn’t quite gone the way he and the team had wanted. Being taken out before Turn 1 was always painful, especially when it wasn’t even your fault.

You couldn’t get the image of how down and sad he had seemed when he walked back to the garage, even more gutted when the Stewards fined him.

And then qualifying came and he didn’t manage to get on the front row, no matter how much he pushed the car on those medium compound tyres.

Having to settle with starting P5 in the race when he knew what he could get out of the car had not been easy on him.

“I just wish things would have gone my way” he explained to you while you laid in bed in your shared hotel room, late at night before race day.

You sighed, nodding in understanding as you weaved your hands through his hair comfortingly.

“You’ll show them how strong you are tomorrow. Now, more than ever, you need to have faith in the car, in your team and most importantly in yourself” you said, making Lando look at you with admiration.

“How do you always manage to calm me down?” he asked, which made you giggle and run a hand down his cheek lovingly.

“4 years and an engagement later” you joked, making him finally break out into a genuine laugh.

There were so many stolen moments from you guys because of the racing, you would often forget to just be with each other and let loose, forget about everything even for just a little while.

Lando has always stated that he wouldn’t be able to make it without you, claiming you were the only one that could help him unwind and completely disconnect from the races and the stress that came with it. Lately, the stress had got even worse than usual.

“I don’t think my time is coming anytime soon” he said after a couple of moments of comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Why do you think that?” you asked, your hands still running through his soft curly hair.

He shrugged, snuggling closer to your body and now resting his head against your chest.

“It feels like no matter how much progress we make or how many upgrades we bring, something just doesn’t click at the end of the day. It seems like nothing we do is good enough” he explained.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You could only imagine what he felt like, working so hard with the team and feeling like nothing was paying off, you sympathized with your fiancé and the entire team. However, somewhere deep down in your heart, you knew his time was even closer than he thought.

His win was coming this weekend, your gut kept telling you.

“My love, you have to keep being positive. You’ve shown impressive pace the entire weekend, and what happened in the Sprint had nothing to do with you or how the car performed. I have a good feeling about the race tomorrow, so please just indulge me and have faith in yourself and in your team” you said, kissing his forehead at the end.

He didn’t say anything else but nodded, burying his face even deeper into your body. His eyes slowly started dropping as he enjoyed the feeling of your hands playing with his hair, the only thing on his mind was doing everything he can in the race so you and the team would be proud of him.

He needed it.

♡♡♡♡♡

Being in the garage while watching the Miami Grand Prix had to be deemed as a health hazard. From the precise moment the Safety Car was deployed and Lando was leading the race, having come in to swap his tyres, the entire garage was on their toes.

The tension in the air while watching the last laps was like nothing you had ever experienced, not in all the 4 years you have been with Lando and attended the majority of his races.

Mechanics were chewing on their fingers, pulling their hair or pacing around the garage. You were listening in on the radio as he talked to Will, your heart beating wildly in your chest and echoing in your ears.

The second you saw him cross that finish line and take the checkered flag in P1, you could literally not stop crying. The tears were freely and fully falling down your cheeks, your eyes soaking in the energy and celebrations that were happening all around you.

“Y/N, he did it!! He won!!!” Jon was the one who brought you back to reality when he ran to you and scooped you into his arms, laughing in disbelief.

“I can’t believe he actually did it” you said once Jon put you down, wiping the tears from your eyes to no avail because new ones were just taking their place.

Hugs were going all around the garage, everyone hugging the nearest person to them. Zak and Andrea pulled you into a shared hug, urgently prompting you to follow them to where Lando would be.

At first you were apprehensive, preferring to wait for him at the garage, but you couldn’t deny the two men that were literally dragging you to Lando.

The moment you saw him coming towards you and the team, a whole new wave of tears starting falling down your cheeks, sobs racking through your body once he ran to you and scooped you into his arms, lifting you up over the barriers so he could spin you around.

“I fucking did it. I did it for you, baby” he exclaimed in your ear, making you laugh and nod, kissing every part of his body that you could reach from your position.

“I am so fucking proud of you. All the work you’ve done up until now has finally paid off. I love you so much and I am so proud of you for this” you said, kissing him hard when he finally put you down.

You didn’t care that he was sweaty at that moment, you didn’t care that he could barely catch his breath, you just needed him to know just how proud you were of him for what he had just done.

He certainly wasn’t complaining, squeezing your body against his like you would dissipate in the air if he let you go. The entire team was cheering and screaming all around you, which prompted you to finally pull away.

“Go and celebrate with them. You all deserve it” you said, unwrapping his arms from your waist and pushing him towards his team.

He leaned in to peck your lips once again quickly before he jumped to his team, being lifted and praised by every mechanic around him.

As you watched him interact with his team, some of them who were crying because of how proud they were of him, you realized how lucky you both were.

Lando was so loved, not only by you and his team but by the other drivers as well, who you could see were so happy to finally see him on the first step of the podium.

The Miami Grand Prix was one to remember. The day the entire Formula 1 community came together to celebrate Lando Norris.

The winner of everyone’s heart.

The winner of Formula 1.

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nvuy · 2 days

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nuvy. nuvy have you heard of the boothill leaks.

YES i did *salutes*

boothill story leaks under cut;

girl dad girl dad

soooo what about boothill falling in love with a single parent with a daughter hmm hmm

like god if he doesn’t just accidently run into the kid and she squeals over him because “hey!! cool robot man!!” and you chase her down and apologise.

he freezes, because your daughter looks so much like his did.

same hair colour, same eye colour, same energy that he could barely keep up with, just learning to walk on two feet properly and string together words to form simple sentences.

it absolutely destroys him. in the worst and best way possible. especially since your daughter practically develops an admiration for him on the spot, begs to be carried, and you’re confused because “sweetie, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”

like like.,,,, example……..

Something small and warm wraps around his hand and Boothill glances up quickly from his lap.

There was a little girl searching for his fingers, barely three years old by the looks of it. Pretty tresses of black hair flowing in the wind near the shoreline, sniffling and barely standing on short wobbly legs.

“I need help,” she hiccups, and Boothill melts on the spot. So small and helpless, like a baby bird away from its mother’s nest. “I can’t find my–”

And of course, he stands up, dusts off his pants, and offers her his hand. He guides her away from the beach back towards the market where crowds of people swarm the stalls.

It’s nighttime, cold, and definitely no place for a little girl to be by herself.

“What’s your parents look like, princess?”

He busies himself searching for any targets that would make sense given the girl’s prattling of your appearance down to the colour of your shoes—“White. Like mine.” Hers light up purple with each step she takes—too many faces, too many people.

He stands to give up when he hears somebody frantically running around like a lunatic to every single store, asking if they’ve seen a little girl with light up sneakers wandering about.

“Calm down. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” he heard one of the assistants try.

Another shopkeeper offers a pitiful frown and shakes their head.

Boothill nudges the girl, squeezing her small hand in his, careful of his strength around fragile bones. “Is that them?”

She quickly wipes the tears from her face. She then nods and takes off into a sprint to lunge at you, still sobbing when she wraps her arms around your leg.

You sigh in relief and scoop her up into your arms.

Boothill then has an entire conundrum in the middle of the market square. For one, your daughter is waving him over with a smile on her face. Two, you looked like you were about two seconds away from passing out in shock. Your clothes are askew, hair a mess, face flushed and yet simultaneously drained of blood.

He steps closer anyway, though hesitantly. He can’t say no to the little thing whose grin has now grown double the size of her face.

“This is the man that helped me,” she explained softly to you, pointing at him with a small finger.

You scanned him over.

For a moment, he thought you were going to turn around and book it in the other direction. A random ‘robot man’ in the centre of the town square was probably the least most inviting thing he could’ve been. Not to mention he had been sitting at the docks for so long staring out into the water he knew his hair had been tossed wildly from the wind.

Not that you appeared anymore put together.

Instead, you grab his face with a free hand and kiss him on the cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely.

He almost damn near blue screens. The words ‘anything for you’ fight to come forth out of his throat.

Instead, he lets out a garbled noise before he clears his throat. “Of course. Couldn’t let the little princess run too far.” He teased your daughter with a tap to her nose.

She grabs his finger and presses the pads of her own across the metal rivets and joints like she’s studying them curiously.

Your daughter stared up at you with giant puppy eyes, still holding his hand. “Can we keep him?”

It was your turn to make a weird noise, spluttering with your face heating up. “You can’t keep people.”

All the while, Boothill was staring at you as you chastised her with hot cheeks.

No spouse by the looks of it—nor had the little princess mentioned somebody else. He knew kids liked to ramble on about their parents.

Well, his daughter did. Something cold and metallic turned in his stomach. She used to think her dad was a hero.

He wondered if she still would.

No ring on your finger. Adoration was such a gentle expression on your face, and the way you held her so firmly, yet so delicately, said it all.

Oh, if he wasn’t completely head over heels from the very beginning.

the angst potential. The angst potential. Theeee angst potential. i’m gritting my teeth.

i’m going insan e

#$. love mail #$. anon #$. drabbles #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill hsr

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springtyme · 1 day

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐢𝐧'𝐭 𝐍𝐨 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♡

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐞

Spencer Reid x f!reader || Series masterlist || Series playlist

Previous chapter || Main masterlist || ao3 || Next chapter

summary: After having worked for the BAU for two years, you have seen and experienced a lot, but after a series of murders of young married couples, you’re asked to do something that you never had thought you would have to do; going undercover, as an expecting, married couple, with Spencer Reid.

word count: 4.6k

warnings/tags: Eventual smut! (18+, mdni!) Language. Angst and fluff. Slow burn. Mutual pining. Coworkers to lovers. Undercover as a married couple. Pretend pregnancy. Not set at a specific time, but definitely somewhere in the early seasons. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Mention of canon-typical violence. This chapter has not been proofread, and I'm honestly not that proud of how it turned out, but I'm just exited to get further into the story <3

Spencer glances over at you as he notices your head start to nod, he can’t keep the small smile from his lips as he sees that you have drifted off. He reaches over to adjust his jacket, making sure you are as warm and comfortable as possible before he focuses back on the road.

He can’t help but feel a wave of protectiveness wash over him, knowing what lies ahead for both of you. Having to go undercover, pretending to be married, to be in love, to be expecting a child together… It is a lot, to say the least.

For a second he can’t help but imagine that the two of you actually are married, that he isn’t giving a colleague a lift, but that he is driving home with his wife. Not to be creepy, just to… to what? To practice? To get used to the idea of being so close to you, of having to maintain that facade? In this moment, with you sleeping soundly on the passenger seat of his car, it’s strangely easy to imagine it.

But as quickly as the thought comes, he pushes it aside, feeling guilty for letting his mind wander in that direction. The two of you might have to act like a married couple soon, but that does not mean he should think like that. If there is one thing he’d never want to do, it is to make you feel uncomfortable. You have agreed to the assignment, not to him inappropriately using the scenario to imagine things.

And it’s not like he has ever dared to entertain the idea of actually being in a romantic relationship with you. After all, you’re just his colleague, someone he respects and admires for your compassion, intelligence and dedication to the job. He also knows that you would never see him like that, and why would you? He is just the socially awkward genius who can barely keep a conversation going without tripping over his own words.

But as he drives through the silence of the night, with only the soft hum of the engine to keep him company, he can’t help but feel a sense of closeness to you that goes beyond just a professional relationship. As the car continues its way back to D. C., Spencer can’t help but steal glances at you, now and then, your features relaxed in sleep. Despite the seriousness of the situation ahead, despite the weight of the assignment on your shoulders, you look so peaceful in this moment.

As the city lights of D.C. come into view, Spencer can not help but feel a sense of gratitude for your presence in his life. He knows that this assignment will test the limits of his abilities and his emotions, but having you by his side gives him a sense of comfort and strength. And as he pulls up to your apartment building, he gently reaches over to softly shake your shoulder, gently waking you from your slumber.

“Hey, we’re here,” he says softly, watching as you slowly stir awake.

You blink a few times, rubbing your eyes as you sit up in your seat. “Oh, we made it already? That was fast,” you mumble, stretching your arms.

“Yeah,” Spencer nods, a small smile on his lips, the drive had taken the time it always does, but to you it must have felt like it passed quickly cause you were asleep for most of it.

“Thank you for the ride, Spence,” you say, gratitude shining in your tired eyes.

“No problem. It’s not like I could let you take a cab back.”

You smile at him, the warmth evident in your expression. “Okay, but still… I really appreciate it.”

Spencer just softly shakes his head at your words. “Anytime. Now come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

You nod in appreciation, grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes before following Spencer out of the car. The two of you walk the short distance to your door in comfortable silence, the night air crisp and cool around you, Spencer’s jacket still draped around your frame.

As you reach the door, you turn to face Spencer, a small smile on your face as you hand him back his jacket. “Thanks again, and sorry I fell asleep on you. I guess I was more tired than I thought,” you say, looking almost a little sheepishly.

Spencer waves off your apology, he is just happy That he could help and make sure you got home safely. “No need to apologize, you needed the rest. Now go get some more, I have a feeling we have some demanding days ahead of us.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” you nod with a sleepy smile on your lips. “Good night, Spence.”

“Good night,” he replies, watching as you unlock your door before waving goodbye. He offers you a small half-wave back, the gesture ending up more awkward than he had intended to, but you just smile warmly back at him, before stepping inside.

Spencer stands there for a moment, watching the door close behind you, feeling a strange sense of longing in his chest. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turns on his heel and heads back to his car.

· · · · ·

You kick off your shoes as soon as you step inside your apartment, letting out a tired sigh as the soles of your sore feet hit the floorboards. All you want to do is to crawl into bed immediately, to wrap yourself in the warmth of your blankets and escape into the blissful embrace of sleep. But you trudge off to the bathroom, fumbling with the zipper at the side of your dress. You need to remove your makeup and brush your teeth and you also want a shower to wash off the day before you can fully relax.

You let out a little sigh as you finally free yourself from the tight fabric, and shred yourself of your underwear, before stepping into the shower cabin. You feel how your tense shoulders loosens up a little as the hot water cascades over your tired body, washing away the long day and the weight of the impending assignment. You let out a sigh of relief as the steam envelops you, the water soothing your aching muscles and relaxing your mind.

The calming and familiar scent of your shower products fills your nostrils, soothing your senses as you finish washing off. As you step out of the shower, you wrap yourself in a fluffy towel, quickly drying off and lotioning up before heading to your bedroom. You slip into your favorite pajamas, the soft fabric hugging your skin as you crawl into bed, feeling the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you.

The events of the evening begin to replay in your mind as you step into the darkness of your room, the weight of the upcoming assignment looms overhead, but you take a deep breath, pushing aside the worries and the uncertainties for now, all you want to do is get some rest before the intensity of the case takes over your life completely. You collapse onto your bed, feeling the exhaustion of the day wash over you. The warm comfort of the soft duvet is reminiscent of the warmth of Spencer’s jacket and you can’t help but feel a small smile grace your lips.

Despite the seriousness of the situation ahead, you feel a sense of reassurance knowing that it is Spencer that will be by your side. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to drift off into a peaceful slumber, the thoughts of the assignment and the challenges ahead temporarily fading into the background as you embrace the sweet serenity of sleep, wanting a couple of hours of respite before the storm of the case begins.

Four hours is what you end up getting before the shrilling sound of your phone pierce through the silence of the room, jolting you awake. It’s Hotch, sounding just as tired as you are feeling while he explains that you’ll have to go to the headquarters at Pennsylvania Avenue later. It turns out that, due to the extensive nature of the case, you and Spencer have to get greenlit from the higher authorities before you can be sent undercover.

So that is how you end up spending most of your weekend at the J. Edgar Hoover building. You have to go through a psych evaluation, and get your gun qualifications renewed even though you just got yours renewed a couple weeks ago, and a mandatory course in basic undercover protocol. You don’t get to see Spencer in the two days that you’re going through the evaluation process. It’s a bit weird knowing that he is somewhere in the same building as you, going through the same process, and not being able to see him.

By Sunday afternoon, after you have gone through your last evaluation, you get told that you have been approved. You had never been really worried that you wouldn’t, most of the things like psych evals and gun qualifications are formalities you have to go through on a semi regular basis anyway, but it is still a relief to know that you have been approved and you’re also ready to focus on the actual case again.

As you finally leave the building, the sun is setting in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the city as you make your way to the metro station. You can’t help but think of Spencer as you ride the train back to your apartment. You wonder how he’s been doing, if he’s been feeling the same nerves and exhaustion as you have been going through the approval process.

By the time you step off the train and make your way back to your apartment, the sun has dipped lower in the skyline, casting long shadows over the street as you step up to your door, the key turning in the lock with a satisfying click as you step inside. The exhaustion of the weekend hits you all at once, and you feel the weight of the upcoming assignment pressing down on your shoulders as you make it up the stairs and into your apartment. You let out a tired sigh as you kick off your shoes and drop your bag on the floor.

You quickly change into comfortable clothes and make yourself a cup of tea, finding a small sense of comfort in the familiar routine. You sink into your couch, wrapped in a blanket with your cup of tea in hand as you let the mild aroma of the tea soothe your nerves. The calm before the storm has settled over you as you sit in the quiet of your apartment, the warmth of the tea seeping into your bones while you take a moment to reflect on everything that has happened over the past few days and what’s to come.

You have become so used to living alone, to come back home to your empty apartment at the end of the day, and for the most part, you’ve liked it that way. But as you sit in the silence of your living room, a part of you can’t help but feel a twinge of loneliness. As you sip your tea, you can’t help but think of Spencer once again.

You wonder if he is also now settling in at home, if he is feeling the same sense of anticipation and nerves that you are feeling. You are happy that you don’t have to go through all of this alone, and even happier that you will go through it with a friend. It is reassuring to know that the one you have to go undercover with is someone you trust completely, even though the nerves have started to kick in.

With a deep breath, you finish your tea and set the cup aside as the late afternoon turns to evening outside your window. You should probably get some food, you contemplate cooking something for about five seconds before you decide to order some take out instead.

Having called to place your order, you settle back on the couch, flipping on the TV to distract yourself from the thoughts swirling in your head. You find a mindless comedy to watch, letting the laugh track of the show fill the room as you wait for your food to arrive.

After you have eaten and as the evening wears on and the darkness outside your window deepens, you decide to turn in for the night, the exhaustion of the day catching up to you once again.

You wake up the next morning feeling slightly more refreshed, the weight of the assignment still looming but by now you have now entered that focused mindset that you always slip into when a new case is at hand. You go about your morning routine, getting ready for the day ahead, knowing that it will be a busy one as you prepare for the undercover operation. Soon you’re in your car and on your way to the office.

Hotch has organized a briefing for you and the rest of the team this morning after which you and Spencer will have your own briefing, going over the details of the assignment and setting the expectations for the operation. You’ll be assigned your cover identities and the roles you’ll be playing and go over the plan of action and the timeline for the operation.

As you pull up to the FBI building, you can feel the anticipation building in your chest, the gravity of the situation settling in once again as you make it inside, heading to the conference room. The team is already gathered when you arrive, the air in the room buzzing with a sense of purpose as the briefing begins. Hotch goes over the details of the case once again, outlining the specific details of the murders and the profile of the victims.

As the meeting comes to an end, Hotch dismisses the rest of the team, leaving just you and Spencer in the room. He turns to the two of you, his expression serious and determined, but he is quick to soften up as he begins to speak.

“I want to thank you both again for agreeing to take on this assignment. I know that it’s a lot to ask, and I appreciate your dedication to the job and your willingness to take on this task,” Hotch starts, his voice filled with gratitude. “The evaluation team from D. C. had a lot of good things to say about you two when they rang me to let me know that you had been approved.” He adds with a small smile. “Told me if I wasn’t careful they’ll try to recruit the two of you for undercover work full time.”

You and Spencer share a look, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Said that eidetic memory of yours could make for the perfect deep cover operative, Reid,” Hotch adds, turning to Spencer with a small smirk.

You can’t help but smile either as Spencer blushes at the compliment, his cheeks turning a shade of pink as he shifts in his seat. You secretly love it when Spencer gets flustered, he looks so adorable when he does, and it’s nice to see him get recognized for his abilities.

“We have your identities ready,” Hotch continues, making you and Spencer sit up straighter, the seriousness of the situation settling in once again as Hotch passes you each a folder filled with details of your new personas. You and Spencer quickly scan through the files with curiosity. “We have determined that it’ll be safe enough for the two of you to keep your first names, but the two of you will now be the Baker’s. You met in college and got married last year. You’re expecting your first child and are now moving from the east coast to California for work. Your identities have been fabricated to fit the profile of the victims, we’ve done everything to make them as appealing for the unsub as possible. Your main objective is to draw out the unsub and gather evidence that will lead us to their capture. As you already know, we have good reason to believe that the unsub stalked the victims for some time before committing the murders, so we need you to act as a convincing couple that fits that profile.”

You and Spencer nod in understanding as you go through the details quickly, taking note of the background stories you’ll have to maintain during the operation.

“I have full confidence in both of you, I know you’ll be able to handle this assignment with professionalism and dedication. Remember, your safety is our number one priority. We will have agents nearby at all times to ensure your safety. We have arranged for you to move into a safe house in the area where you will spend most of your time. You’ll have constant communication with the team or local authorities, and we’ll be monitoring the area to ensure your safety,” Hotch explains, his expression serious but reassuring.

You nod in acknowledgment, but something seems to be bothering Spencer. “It says here that I’ll be working at the local college,” Spencer says, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Well, yes. You’ll be working as an assistant professor in engineering as part of your cover. We believe the unsub is targeting educated couples, so having you work in a university setting will make you more appealing as potential victims.” Hotch explains. “We have fixed everything with the university, and you have a PhD in engineering so it’s a fitting cover for you.”

“But it says Y/N will be staying at home?” Spencer adds, looking over at Hotch with furrowed brows.

“Yes, that is correct,” Hotch confirms.

“So I’m just expected to leave her alone all day... That doesn’t seem like a good idea, what if something happens while I’m not there?”

“I understand your concern, Reid, but as I said, we have a team of agents that will be monitoring the area at all times, this is all part of the operation. We have calculated the risks and we have concluded that it is a safe choice to make. Your absence during the day will make you both susceptible to the unsub’s advances, which is our goal in drawing them out. We have taken all necessary precautions to ensure your safety and we will have agents nearby in case of emergency.” Hotch says, his tone gentle but firm. “We have security measures in place to ensure Y/N’s safety while you are not there, and you will have constant communication with her and the team. It’s important that you both stick to your cover identities in order to draw out the unsub and gather the necessary evidence. The unsub has only attacked when both partners are present, so if anything it should be more safe.”

“Okay, but-” Spencer begins, but Hotch speaks again.

“Again, I understand your concern, Spencer, and it’s valid,” Hotch says, his tone softening. “I appreciate your dedication to the safety of your partner. But we have taken every precaution and all of this has been thought out thoroughly. We believe that this is the best course of action. Your safety is our top priority, and we will have every precaution in place to ensure that both of you are safe at all times. Just trust the plan, trust your training, trust the team and trust each other.”

Spencer nods, though his concerns are still evident in his expression, his jaw slightly clenched. You can see the conflict in his eyes as he processes Hotch’s words. A stretch of silence settles over the room, you are not sure if you should say anything or not, but you can see that Spencer is deep in thought. You are moved by his concern for your safety, but you trust Hotch and the undercover specialists have everything planned out and under control. Before you can say anything, Hotch speaks up again, this time addressing you.

“We have an undercover specialist coming in to help the two of you going through your cover stories, but I was also told that we have a styling team coming, and I believe they asked me to send you by them. They should have arrived by now, so why don’t you get that done now and then you and Reid can focus on going through your cover stories in more detail later.”

You nod, understanding that Hotch wants to speak with Spencer alone. You grab your folder and stand up from your seat, getting ready to leave, but not before you reach out and give Spencer’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small smile before turning to leave the room, ready to meet with the styling team to finalize your cover identity.

· · · · ·

Spencer watches as the door closes behind you, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside of him. He trusts Hotch and knows that the team has everything under control, but he can’t help the knot of worry settling in his chest.

He knows that this assignment is risky, and he knew it when he agreed to it. But for some reason, the revelation that you will have to be alone for hours during the day, vulnerable to potential danger, weighs way heavier on him than he had anticipated. He knows that you are more than capable of handling yourself, but the thought of leaving you alone is unsettling to him.

“Are you okay?” Hotch’s voice breaks the silence, pulling Spencer out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Spencer replies, his voice tight with emotion. “I guess it is just getting real now…”

Hotch nods in understanding, his expression sympathetic. “I know this assignment is tough, Reid. And I’m not going to lie, I don’t like having to send you two into this, but I have full confidence in you both. You are both capable agents and I trust that you will handle this operation. And remember, you have a team behind you.”

“I know, and I trust the team and I trust you too.”

“That’s all I ask, Reid,” Hotch replies.

Spencer nods, but he can’t shake the uneasy feeling in his body. A stretch of quietness falls over the room. Spencer. He does trust Hotch, just as he trusts the team, of course he trusts you. He is just not so sure that he trusts himself. That he will be able to pull this off. How is he ever going to be convincing as a husband? He might have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187, but he lacks the social skills and experience in romantic relationships that would be necessary for this assignment.

And the thought of having to act like a married couple with you, of having to maintain that facade, gives him a weird feeling. It’s a strange mix of emotions, and Spencer can’t help but feel a sense of unease at the idea of being so close to you in such an intimate context. What if he messes up, what if he can’t handle it? He takes a deep breath before he finally breaks the silence. “I’m not sure I’ll be good at this, I don’t think I’ll be able to convince anyone that I’m married.”

Hotch gives him a reassuring smile. “Of course you can. You’re a great agent, and I know you’ll be able to adapt and handle this assignment. We have established that you trust everyone involved in this operation, so I need you to trust yourself as well.”

Spencer takes a deep breath, nodding in acknowledgment of Hotch’s words. the room falling quiet once again as Spencer absorbs everything. “It’s going to be fun to dive into engineering again,” he finally says, attempting to lighten the mood. Hotch chuckles at his attempt, knowing that Spencer is trying to shift the focus away from his worries. Spencer wouldn’t be Spencer if he didn’t try to find some sort of comfort in knowledge and logic.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Hotch replies, giving him a small smile. “Just remember to stick to your cover story, trust your training, and work closely with Y/N. You two make a great team, and I have full confidence that you’ll be able to handle this assignment together. You’ll have support every step of the way.”

Spencer nods. He knows that this assignment will push him out of his comfort zone, but he also knows that he has a responsibility to the victims and their families to do everything he can to bring the unsub to justice. And if that means stepping into a role that he’s not entirely comfortable with, then he will do it. For them. He also has a responsibility to you, to ensure your safety.

After a moment of quiet reflection, Hotch stands up from his seat. “We’ll reconvene later for a more detailed discussion of your cover stories. For now, why don’t you take a break, maybe get some coffee.”

Coffee does sound really good right now, Spencer has barely slept in the past few days and he feels the exhaustion catching up to him. With a nod of acknowledgment, Spencer stands up from his seat, his mind swirling with thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Spencer exits the conference room and heads towards the break room to grab a much-needed cup of coffee

· · · · ·

The image in the mirror is truly bizarre, you can’t stop staring at the reflection of yourself, turning to inspect the surreal sight from every angle. “I look… pregnant,” you finally mumble, placing your hands on the fake bump.

The padded prosthetic bump that has been attached to your body under your dress is surprisingly realistic, making you look like you have just entered the last trimester of pregnancy. It’s a strange feeling, feeling the weight of it against your body as you adjust to the added bulk. You can’t help but feel a mix of awe and discomfort at the sight of your altered appearance.

It is like getting a glimpse into a parallel universe, one where you’re married and about to have a baby, so far from the life you are currently living.

“Well, that is the goal,” the woman from the styling team laughs. “Just be happy you don’t actually have a little one in there tap dancing on your bladder non-stop,” she adds with a grin.

You chuckle at her comment, but you can’t help but feel a little surprised that you actually wouldn’t mind it that much. You are nowhere near the point in your life where you are ready to have children, but the thought of having a family and sharing that kind of connection with someone does bring a sense of longing to your heart.

But you quickly push those thoughts aside, that is a can of worms that you don’t need to open right now. Right now, you have a job to do, and you have to focus on being the best undercover agent you can be. You give yourself a mental shake, trying to banish the strange mixture of emotions that is suddenly swirling inside of you.

“Yeah, that must be quite the experience,” you reply, offering her a smile as you try to shake off the unexpected surge of emotion. You turn away from the mirror. “You got everything you needed?”

The woman nods with a smile. “Yes, everything seems to fit just right,” she reply, looking at you with a reassuring smile.

“Great, then I should probably get back to the briefing,” you say, feeling a sense of relief that everything, so far, is going smoothly with your cover identity. You quickly change back into your regular clothes, feeling the weight of the fake bump disappear as you slip out of the dress.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated :) let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter ♡ edit: it would especially be nice if you reblog when you ask to be added to the tag list ♡

Taglist: @luivisa @babyspiderling @reidsdaisies @eddioto @sadroses98 @lovelyygirl8 @lover-of-books-and-tea @corpsebridenightamare @amortencjja @r-3dlips @moonchildohh @secretly-tumb1r @silver138 @witchsbitchestime @queermaxwooo @mcntsee e @chonkybonky @lovemelaunic @justsarahbella @sadbae-33 @lariclifford @jhrc666 @spicyspirit @akuma-13 @jasf444 @pleasantwitchgarden @fullsuns-stuff @yorksyree @desperate-and-broken @goldenchildee @irregulartae @zeonotneo @greywritesthings

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coco-loco-nut · 3 days

Text

Daddy’s Girl

pairing: Daniel x Stroll Reader

summary: you start dating the one driver your brother hates more than anyone

a/n: thanks for the request!!

requests open masterlist

——————

“Lancie, you can’t just leave me here!” you pout at your older brother.

“Sorry, I have to go. Go be a pain in the ass somewhere else, you brat,” Lance replies as a sibling tends to do. You huff and walk towards where you assume Aston Martin is, but you end up lost a minute later.

“Are you lost?” an Australian man says behind you. You quickly turn about-face, looking at what might be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

“A little, yeah,” you blush, quickly looking down so you aren’t just staring at him.

“I’m Daniel, where is a beautiful girl like you going?” He asks, hoping you’ll look at him again with your beautiful eyes.

“Aston Martin, my name is Y/n,” you introduce yourself, extending your hand for him to shake it, purely on reflex. Daniel takes your hand in his and doesn’t let go.

“You’re in luck, I’m going to my garage right beside it. Might as well give you the tour while we’re at it,” he says and that’s when it clicks. This is Daniel Ricciardo, the guy who your brother really doesn’t like. Shit. The two of you chat and laugh as he shows you around.

“Thanks for the tour,” you blush a little as you stand outside VCARB and Aston Martin, not really wanting to let his hand go. He doesn’t either, your hand fits perfectly in his. Daniel knows exactly who you are, he’s been crushing on you for a few months since he saw a photo Lance posted of you.

“Can I take you out for dinner or coffee sometime?” he asks, a little hopeful you’d agree since he was still holding your hand. You quickly agree, typing your number into his phone.

“Text me,” you smile, heading into the familiar green space.

“There you are, sweetheart, I was getting worried!” your dad says, walking to you.

“Sorry Daddy, I was exploring,” you aren’t technically lying as you hug your father.

“That’s okay, just let me know where you are next time, okay?” he asks. relieved you aren’t hurt. You are his baby girl after all.

“I promise. Lance just had to leave and I didn’t know where I was,” you admit.

“He should know better, I’ll talk to him later. Do you want tea? Coffee? Breakfast? Did you eat?” Lawrence starts to fuss over you. You can’t lie to yourself, you enjoy that your dad spoils you, to him you can do no wrong, even if he has a no boys until you are 25 policy.

Over the next few months you accompany your brother to his races, under the guise that you really enjoyed going the first time. You’ve been secretly seeing Daniel, your now boyfriend. It’s thrilling, rebelling against your dad.

“Danny,” you grin, jumping into his arms in the small alley between the two motorhomes.

“Hi baby,” he hugs you tight, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I missed you,” you breathe in his scent.

“It’s only been a few hours, baby. You should be wearing my team shirt, you’d look so hot,” he smirks and you jokingly hit his arm.

“Don’t say that in front of my father, he’ll have an aneurysm,” you laugh, Daniel watches happily as your face scrunches with the laugh.

“Noted,” he is just content to be holding you in his arms.

“Speaking of, I want you to properly meet my dad and Lance,” you say a little shyly. You know how fast gossip travels around the paddock now, and you don’t want to be exposed before you have a chance to tell your family.

“Anything for you, Y/n, as long as you are ready for it,” Daniel kisses your head.

“Thank you for agreeing, I just don’t it to get out before we tell our friends and families. They deserve better than that,” you admit, Daniel’s heart swells. You have a reputation for being a spoiled daddy’s girl from people who don’t know you, but he knows you and how kind you are.

“Just let me know when and where,” he promises, knowing that your family is everything to you. He can ignore his rocky relationship with Lance, he just hopes Lance can. You chat and make out for a few more minutes before parting.

“Daddy, is it okay if I invite a friend to dinner with us tonight?” you ask, giving your dad the look he can never say no to.

“Of course sweetheart, I’ll add an extra spot to our reservation,” Lawrence is curious about who you are inviting, but he doesn’t push it. You grin, texting Daniel the details. You pick Daniel up in your custom DB12, he takes a second to appreciate the car. It’s racing green exterior and tan interior with black detailing. Daniel isn’t sure why he didn’t expect you to drive it, but he also feels like it perfectly fits you.

“Have you pushed this baby to her limits?” Daniel asks with his cheeky smile.

“I may not be a race driver, but I do know how to properly appreciate all she can do,” you grin, neither confirming or denying.

“That’s my girl. Anything I should know?” He asks and you properly look at his outfit, navy dress pants paired with a white dress shirt that has the top couple buttons undone and navy suit jacket.

“Just that you look handsome, and to be yourself. I like you for who you are, that should be enough for them,” you tell him, so close to saying that you love him. Daniel’s hand rests on your leg as you drive, the hum of the engine filling any lulls in conversation. You enter the private dining room a couple steps ahead of Daniel so you can properly introduce him, your Dad and Lance stand up.

“Daddy, Lancie, I’d like you to properly meet my boyfriend, Daniel,” Daniel walks in behind you, immediately going to your father to shake his hand first, then Lance, then pulling out your seat for you. He takes a seat beside you, you hold his hand under the table, giving it a squeeze.

“Your boyfriend?” Lance asks, visibly hurt. He had told you that he didn’t like Daniel, and he wishes you had told you.

“I really like him, Lance. He treats me like a princess and makes me happy,” your eyes plead with your brother as he stands up.

“Sorry, I just need a second,” Lance tells your father and steps into the hallway.

“He makes you happy?” Lawrence asks you, trying to ease your distressed look. You just nod. “I’m not thrilled, but if he makes you happy, that’s what matters,” your dad says and you feel Daniel squeeze your hand, and you look at him. Daniel nods, as if he’s reading your mind.

“I’ll be right back, Daddy, I need to talk to Lance,” your voice is a little shaky as you join your brother in the hallway. You can hear your dad interrogating Daniel.

“Lancie?” You ask softly, your brother facing away from you.

“Y/n, please, I just need a minute,” you can hear the strain in his voice, but something keeps you from backing down.

“I’m really sorry, I wanted you to know in case it got leaked by someone, you and Dad are one of the first to know,” you say, hoping it helps.

“You should’ve told me before you ever even went on a date with him. You know I don’t like him,” Lance turns to you, clearly upset.

“Lance-”

“I’m going home, tell Dad please,” Lance huffs, mad at you and you feel a pit in your stomach.

“Lance, please,” you fight with every fiber of your being not to cry.

“I’m not mad at you, I promise. I just need to be alone and process it,” Lance hugs you, and while you are sure he’s lying about not being mad, it does help. Truthfully, he’s mad at Daniel. To Lance, he is using you to get back at you. You take a second before entering the dining room again.

“Lance is going home, he said he needed to be alone,” you sit at your seat, Daniel’s hands immediately finding yours.

“Daniel seems like a good guy, even if he is too old for you. I will allow it, but if you hurt her you will never find yourself in a race again,” Lawrence threatens, and you know he isn’t bluffing.

“Yes, sir. Your daughter is perfect in every way, I would never dream of hurting her,” Daniel replies, looking at you, eyes full of admiration, a look that you easily return. Lawrence silently notes to look into Daniel’s Red Bull contract.

“I’ll talk to Lance, you know he likes to over react,” Lawrence says, signaling for the waiter to take your order.

It takes a couple weeks for Lance to start talking to you again, and after a few months of watching you and Daniel together, he lets the negative feelings go. By a year later, they are like brothers, and you think that Lance and Lawrence like Daniel better than you. Especially since Lawrence gifted Daniel a similar version of your car.

“Y/n, what would’ve happened if your dad and Lance both never came around,” Daniel asks one afternoon as you lounge beside the pool, his arm wrapped around you.

“Probably would’ve dumped you. I couldn’t hide and lie from Daddy for too long, too much of a Daddy’s girl for that,” you smile with a small shrug. Daniel sits up a little, you look up at him.

“Yes you are,”

“DANIEL!”

#f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo imagine #lance stroll

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luveline · 1 day

Note

Hi I have a request for zombie Steve! I’d love to hear the story of how they met 🫶🏻

zombie!au —You rescue Steve at the start of the end of the world. fem, 2.4k

The sound of them makes your throat close up. Fear like a knife held too tight in unwilling hands, the heat. It’s the hottest summer Hawkins’ has had for years, and you’re overdressed. You couldn’t fit your favourite hoodie in your bag so you wore it but it doesn’t matter, you lost your bag somewhere in the school gymnasium. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg when that thing grabbed you. What were they calling them on the radio? Something starting with G.

Those… things, they can kill people. You saw it just ten minutes ago, your algebra teacher turned to a creature, Maisie Lewinsky from your homeroom stained with gore under her hands.

You press the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle a hot gasp. What are you supposed to do now? The Hawkins station said everyone would be waiting here, a repeat radio message, but by the time you heard it the sun was going down and there was nobody left. No cars, no promised convoy, nobody.

You’re the last living girl left in Hawkins.

You’re gonna die in here.

Terrified of breathing to loud but spooked that staying will seal your fate, you lift yourself up from the floor of the science lab to peer over a high table. There’s no signs of life. No signs of the dead, either. You’d thought this might be a good place to hide, the thick fire door unbreakable, but you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark soon.

You wish you had your stuff. They’ve for sure taken anything worth eating from the cafeteria kitchens and Bradley’s has been empty for days. You aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from. Fuck, you’re already dead—

“Fuck!” a voice echoes, boyish and terrified from somewhere outside of the door. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me, holy shit!”

He sounds scared but firm at the same time. Your own fear is like the insufferable heat, riding the back of your neck as you creep toward the door. There’s gotta be more of them outside. That must be why whoever it is that’s shouting sounds so depeserate. But fuck, there’s relief too. There’s someone still here.

“Fuck! Jesus, help me!”

“Okay,” you say unsurely.

You wedge open the door to the science lab and poke your head out cautiously. There’s a dull thudding sound somewhere to the left, metallic screeching further down, but the panicked shouting (and now panicked yelping) is coming from outside.

You look around for a weapon. There’s nothing to take.

“Holy fuck I do not wanna die!”

Me neither, you think, sniffling back your worried tears. You don’t wanna die, you just want your bed. You want to be home, and safe, but there’s no one to look after you anymore, and you can’t just let people die ‘cos you’re scared. You run from the science lab to the fire escape door full pelt, arm in sudden hot pain at the collision, but the door gives and swings hard into the adjourning wall. You look around frantically for the source of the shouting as it bounces off of the exterior walls of the school and the stone floor of the courtyard, heart suddenly afloat in your chest.

“Hello?” you shout. “I’m here, I’m–”

“What the fuck!”

It’s said with such horrified anger that you give pause, even as your hands shake, cold sweat wetting your lip and colder in the rare afternoon breeze. You dart toward the shouting a moment later, and maybe you’re too late, you can’t save anybody, your shoes pinch as you race down the few concrete steps that lead to the parking lot.

Snarling curdles the air. Your neck snaps left, away from the cars and open territory and toward the subject of your nightmares these last few days. You’ve seen glimpses of these things, always too scared to stay and help, always too stupid, too weak, and seeing them now cements it.

A group of geeks grab at a boy where he hangs from the bars of a metal staircase leading up to the roof of the building. You run toward it on instinct but stop before they hear you, eyes wide. His hands are white-knuckled, his hair falling down into his face, but you know who it is now you’re close enough to see him. You could recognise Steve Harrington a thousand feet away.

“Hey!” you shout. “Hey! Over here!”

Why did you say that? Why are you yelling? The geeks turn their heads to easier pray and you’re done for —they start to run. You stumble back in terror.

“My bag! Get my bag, get the knife!” Steve shouts.

You swing yourself around in a huge circle. There, further into the lot, lies a bag. Further past it lies a wooden baseball bat spiked with fifty silver nails.

You sprint past the bag to the bat and try to grab it while you’re still running, knees grazing hot white fire on the tarmac and hands like acid as you force yourself up again, running further, putting space between you and the too fast footsteps that follow. When you’re sure you’ll have room you swing to see them, their maws dripping gore over white buttoned shirts and once prim blouses. There must be ten of them at least. Only two stay to snap their jaws at Steve Harrington where he attempts to climb up the stairs from the bottom, his foot dangerously close to bloodied teeth.

You pull the bat back as the first of the creatures reaches you. With a grunt more terror than exertion, you force the bat forward, wood arcing through the air, shiny nails catching the light of the setting sun and slamming downward into flesh.

Your eyes flare as wide as they’ve ever been. The geek stops cold and drops, your strangling grip on the bat forcing it up out of the mash of his brains. Another geek leaps over him as you scramble back.

“Run!” Steve yells from the stairs, stress stretching his voice thin and high. “Run away!”

You drop the bat and sprint for your life. Down into the parking lot, past a handful of locked cars and suitcases discarded. This must’ve been where everybody was before they left. There couldn’t have been room. Boxes and trophies, books, magazines and toys, all manner of possessions string like a breadcrumb trail down the road that you have to avoid. You run until your calves are burning over the road that will lead toward Hawkins middle, where you throw yourself into the woods, and hope without any real hope that they’re empty.

Grass folds under your feet. Your panting is as loud as your heart.

When the only shallow breathing you can hear is your own, you circle back to the High School, sticking to the shadows so as not to attract any more attention. A few geeks have collected to join the two you’d left behind, and for a second you’re sure Steve’s succumbed to fatigue and fallen into their blackened clutches, but you spot him balancing dangerously on a handrail between two sets of stairs, leg pulled back in preparation to kick any opposition away.

You sweep up the bat and try to make a plan. You were never going to be able to handle that many people before, not with their new mutations, but you can handle four. Maybe. Probably not.

“Steve, what do I do?” you call. “You have to tell me what to do.”

“You came back!” He swears and shimmies further up the railing as one of his attackers finally manages to traverse the blocked up staircase. “I don’t know what to do! Just hit at them until they die!”

It’s easy for him to say. They’re gruesome creatures, the faces of people you once knew but none of their humanity. They can run as fast as any person can. A human bite has alarming force behind it. The voice on the radio warned you that what you’re trying to do is a bad idea, and yet. You roll the bat in your hand. Your chest aches as hard as your dry throat.

The first geek goes down easy. Unsuspecting, you manage to whack it in the back of the head hard and break through soft skull. The second turns to see you just as you’re lifting the bat again, and it runs hard into it as it comes down, killing itself.

The third is where things get tricky.

“Fuck,” you mumble, lifting your bat to find a sloughing of cartilage and tissue stuck between the spines. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“Be careful!” Steve shouts.

You step back and trip, nearly falling. “Stay away from me!”

It snarls in response. Eyes clouded, the geek is a little slower than the others, and it follows you sluggishly away from Steve. The fourth remains, snapping, but you can’t keep watch.

“Stay away from me!” you warn again.

Steve swears on the railing, his cursing followed by a wet thunk.

The geek doesn’t listen, it bites.

You pull your arms to the side, hands wrapped tight around the base of the bat and ready to swing. With a huge, aching cry, you swing the bat to the side and knock the nails clean into its cheek.

It doesn’t die.

Fuck fuck fuck! You throw yourself to the floor by the geek’s feet and out of its reach, on knees, on your feet again, scrambling toward Steve’s bag. You glance over your shoulder as your knees slam down hard into the floor, never so scared in your life, horrified as the bat stays stuck between tendons and the geek takes a running jump toward you.

You pull the knife from Steve’s bag and hold it out in front of you, squeezing your eyes closed in terror.

“Fuck, hey!”

You scream as the weight of the geek lands on top of you. You scream like it’s taking bites of you, until your throat burns and there’s no sound left to make and you choke on it instead. A short, sharp sound.

Then the weight is pulled off of you. Someone lets out a massive gasp.

“Did it get you?”

You blink your eyes open against the glaring white sun where it meets the horizon. If you’re crying, it’s your business, water on your cheek and a dizzy hot feeling everywhere else.

Steve Harrington looks at you like you’re a ghost. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”

You look at your hand and the knife —his knife— where it rests on the tarmac. “I don’t think so. How do you know?”

“They bite! Did it bite you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Because I’m not exactly uninjured, Steve!”

He frowns at you. Well, he glares. “You’d know if it bit you. Don’t be dense.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re telling me you don’t know what a bite feels like?”

“Some of us had homework.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Well, yeah. It was supposed to be hilarious.

You look around the parking lot and the school courtyard for any outliers, but the school seems well and truly abandoned now. You can’t hear anymore huffing or screeching, no crying, not even the sound of a radio. Everyone’s been playing them nonstop for weeks, waiting for days like today. Suddenly the raptures here, and you aren’t part of the rescue.

But you saved Steve Harrington, at least. You’re accruing some good karma.

Steve doesn’t hold his hand out, he just grabs you under the arms and pulls you up into a standing position. You’re surprised he can do it, you aren’t light, but you remember his last skins game in the gymnasium and nod to yourself. Of course he can pick you up. Plus, you help, using your legs despite their stiffness to brace yourself on the ground.

“Doesn’t look like it bit you,” he says, quieter now, his hands sliding down to yours briefly before he stands back. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought this was the rendezvous point. I mean, it was, right? We missed it.”

“We missed it.”

“How’d you get here?” you ask.

“Bike. Car chose the worst possible time in the world to die. Not that I could’ve got gas.” He eyes you hopefully. “Tell me you drove here.”

“I biked too, but it’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Tire popped.”

Steve rubs his eyebrows. His hands are clean where yours are caked. You stand unable to mask your heavy breathing now, and when you reach for him to steady yourself, he doesn’t move away.

“Sorry,” you mumble, licking your lips. You’re a map of little pains. “Are you okay?”

Steve’s hand reaches back to cover yours like he’s going to pull it off, though he doesn’t. “Are you alone?” he asks.

You wince. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I lost it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Your knees hurt. “It’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s a question. You’re immediately thankful to have found him, because he’s a real living person, and you don’t think you can do this alone. You don’t mean to force him, but you need to know what he’s doing and soon.

“…Better come with me, then,” he says finally.

Steve walks out of your grasp, grabbing up his bag which you’d unfortunately ripped open and shoving the spilled contents back inside. He doesn’t stop to zip it closed, walking straight in the direction of the school.

“Where are we going?”

“Same place as everybody else.” You stumble. Steve, reluctant, frowning hard enough to etch a new wrinkle, holds out his hand to catch you by the elbow. “Where did you think?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, half-indignant.

“You ask a lot of stupid questions, you know that?” He looks you up and down. “How’d you do that?” He points at your bleeding knees.

“I ask stupid questions?”

He grabs the bat from near the felled geek and stands tall. “Jesus. Let’s go find a car.”

It’s not as easy as his tone might suggest. You don’t find a car, you never do, and you never stop asking him obvious questions, but Steve says thank you for saving him eventually (nearly an entire year later, with a hand on your cheek).

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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little-boyyyy-blog · 2 days

Text

back to america

jessie fleming x reader

when jessie makes the to move to portland, you were the only thing on her mind. yet still somehow. you make the biggest move of your relationship.

“i missed you.” the brunette girl you had missed so passionately whispered against the soft skin of your neck. your arms going and wrapping over jessie’s shoulders as you kept the door open with your foot.

“i missed you more jay”

there was a few bags behind the girl; knowing the the rest were getting flown out later in time. jessie and you had spent months (years) going back and forth over the idea of her making the move back to the states from west london. she had always fallen homesick, missing being so close to her parents and longtime girlfriend.

even while at ucla; jessie causally saw her family and friends. either making the trip up to london, ontario on school breaks or her family flying down on their long weekends to spend time with their girl. jessie and her family were thick as thieves. and she’d been telling anyone who asked that, that very reason was why she wanted to come back.

but she had also missed you. and she had just started subconsciously thinking of you as family.

but long distance had been extremely hard on you as a pair. and after you secured a job that was somewhere you felt like settling down at; at least for a while. you started not being able to take off nearly as much time as you could while finishing your masters and working a small restaurant job.

so once she did decide on coming back to the states, she wasted no time in coming home. and by that she meant you. and your high rise apartment that she loved dearly.

“there’s never been a longer plane ride a day in my life.”

jessie and you had met in a shared 3rd year kinetics and transport in material engineering class. it was one of the hardest classes you both had to face in the first 3 years at ucla. that was until you both had ended up in a group of 6 for your midterm final.

you had obviously known who jessie was, everyone did at ucla. but you also knew you had no chance at the gorgeous girl; subsequently leading to never letting you set yourself up for failure by even starting a conversation.

keeping your head down and your eyes away from the soccer stars vicinity allowed you to miraculously never end up in a position to gain a further crush on her. for three years at that! but once you were placed in the same group as her for your midterm, there was absolutely no point in trying.

“do you think anyone else is actually going to show up for this?” presley asked, is hands on his hips as he looked out the door. “it’s only 5:51, just sit down and relax”

he turned and squinted his eyes, causing you to crack a laugh from your friend. “i hate you.”

“no you don’t.”

“i showed up?” presley’s friend piped off; looking up from his computer to now watch the door. “we knew you would canonn, thank you for being early.” presley rolled his eyes before looking back out into the hall. “oo! jenny is here!”

“jenny?” you questioned.

“short blonde who sits front row? always has a question no matter the situation or subject?”

“ah jenny..” you mumbled. well let’s hope she’s useful. or at least more useful than you and some good ole google.

as the time ticked on further until 6’o clock; you found yourself letting out a small sigh of relief. as frustrating as it may be to have to carry the weight of one person in a group you couldn’t help but find a positive of jessie not being there. you didn’t have to face her. that gorgeous gorgeous face.

it was a matter of time. you knew you’d have to come face to face with the brunette who didn’t even know you existed; but you had felt a small amount of relief at it not being today.

but even without the girl your group started hitting the ground running; you working on your computer as the others gave you the information to type down onto the shared slides. the group had been mostly focused on creating an easily accessible but slightly complex introduction to a prototype for the project.

“-i am so sorry! is this group 3 for dr. kimmich’s class?” your eyes shot up from your computer, only to lock with your forever-far away crush. you knew your lips parted, no words coming out but parted as you stared at the beautiful girl. “yes it is! glad you could join us!” presley shot up from his seat, is coffee in hand as he quickly made his way to the brunette.

the last open seat was placed directly infront of you, so as presley ushered the girl in. you were shitting bricks.

the group picked up right where it left off. and jessie ended up being more useful than anyone else. she was insanely good at any engineering class it seemed; but you had never seen it first hand until now.

you could have caught many flies with the way your lips stayed parted and your eyes fixated on the soccer player. her hair was in a messy bun, wearing a ucla soccer shirt an a pair of grey sweats. she looked other-worldly.

you loved how bright her smile was and how her eyebrows furrowed inwards when she didn’t completely understand something. presley has landed multiple kicks to your shin, giving you the crazy eyes and mumbling under his breath everytime for you to stop staring.

you never really could.

“come on, let’s get your stuff inside” you pulled away from her embrace, stealing a peck from her lips and pushing her off to the side. stuggling but managing to pick up the few (four) duffle bags off of the ground and bringing them into your apartment.

“you say let’s and then bring them all in yourself”

“don’t want my pretty girl to hurt herself”

pushing through your bedroom door and placing them on the foot of your bed. jessie found her way behind you; wrapping her arms around your torso as you quickly unzipped one of her bags.

you were prepared to unpack her things, wanting to set up home base for her to make her feel more peaceful with the big change. and you shamelessly knew she’d find a way to wrap her arms around you as you did such. you both had spent 100’s of trips doing the small motions; and this one felt better as you knew it would one of the last.

pulling out all of her shirts and shorts as she laid kisses on the inside of your neck; whispering her ‘i miss you’s’ on the soft skin. having to resist your girlfriend as she continued even through your groans and teasing comments about her being a horny boy.

actually; that probably was one of the traits of jessie’s. she could easily be found herself getting lost in your neck any second possible; even in very public settings or terrible timed events.

“mm jess, get some hangers please” you pushed her away from you, you hand pressing against her hip and tapping for her to move. “fine.” she placed another soft kiss to your neck before scurrying off.

a small smile coming across your face as you continued pulling out her clothes. laying out the shirts flat on the bed and unfolding her pants/sweats only to refold them in a way that would make hanging them up on the hangers easier.

“where did your clothes go?” jessie questioned as she came out of the closet, arms filled with hangers.

of course she noticed right away.

“they are packed up” you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend, she had never been known for her abilities to pick up on subtle details. but she had to pick on this one?

“going on a trip? for what? a month?” she joked; sighing deeply as you grabbed the hangers out of her hands and started hanging up her shirts. a small smile coming across your lips as you caught the end of a portland jersey inbetween your fingertips. “more so months.”

portland has always loved their canadians; and jessie was absolutely no exception to that. so when she got the offer, there was absolutely no way she was going to decline it.

and trust, you understood why portland loved canadians so much. just look at yours?!

“baby what’s going on? there’s a lot of things missing?”

you swallowed your heartbeat down, feeling the anxiety of the impending implications coming faster than expected. you had secretly prayed that she wouldn’t have started questioning things until maybe a few days in.

you had cleared out space in your shower caddie for her own products, a little space on your bedside table for her things to take up. you had even set up an extra key ring by your door for her to be able to hang her keys up on; a brand new key to your apartment occupied it currently. one that she didn’t even know existed.

you watched as her head started looking through the room, her eyes going from the closet to you, to the bathroom door, the nightstand, under the bed, and moving to go to your armoire.

you placed your hand on the soft skin of her forearm, drawing her attention back to you; stopping her from moving around the room to see what else is missing.

taking a deep breath before you even looked at the brunette-girl eyes. “i love you jess, i have since our first group project junior year..” her right arm going around your waist, holding you as your hand gripped on the other girls forearm.

“..you’ve chased ever dream you’ve ever wanted and truthfully got them. making them more and your own in the process. you’ve shown me incredible elegance and composure in some of the hardest times of our relationship and i truly don’t see myself living this life with anyone else..” jessie’s grip found its way to somehow thighten; holding you almost flush against her as you stared up into her eyes.

your eyes watered at the look of complete awe she happened to hold in her beautiful face, incomparable to any 7 wonder or model you’ve ever seen. “..you’ve made the biggest move; the riskiest move of your career to come and make us work. and i would hate myself for not at least asking. so. will you move in with me?”

her smile reflected the same one you given her the day you said yes to her when she asked you on your first date. her hands now both coming up to hold your face as she looked at you; as if she was completely infatuated with you now.

“no way did you just ask me that?”

growing slightly shy at her gaze , you feel your own cheeks heat up in the hold of the girls rough palms. one of your own hands coming up and lightly clasping around her left wrist. a small nod coming from you as you felt embarrassment start to creep up. the lack of anwser made your brain run wild. “if you feel like it’s too soon or too much change at one time i completely un-“

“too soon? i tried countless times to have you move to england with me. i had hoped to quietly make myself at home but this is even better.” she shook her head at your self doubt. almost in amazement that you could even imagine something of the sort. “yes y/n. id love to move in with you.”

“really?”

“i can’t believe you’re re asking me that. im absolutely fucking sure.” her lips coming down to silence any response you could think of. and let’s just say those clothes did get folded and hung up. just happened to be the next morning.

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stinmybubs · 2 days

Text

“Rot My Brain” Fluff!

AN: I cannot stop thinking about Katsuki, he’s rotting my brain to the core. I’m gonna mix in some of my irl bfs actions with Katsuki’s personality cuz sometimes they clash. And omg I can write Kenma off my bf for sure. This will be my titles for all my brain rots!

Here’s a lazy Picrew banner divider thingy -

B. Katsuki x AFAB! Reader!

Katsuki can’t keep his hands off you. Every minute he has his hands somewhere on your body, for him it’s not only comforting but he loves to keep you close. Making sure every moment he has is next to you, not to mention he barley knows how to express his love in any other way.

This became a habit ever since you two became close friends, except it was more platonic touches than how of course. When you were friends he would put his hand on your back any time you were just standing next to him.

Katsuki doesn’t care for other eyeing where he touches you, because why would he care what a bunch of extras think? You’re his girl now, with your consent he can touch you wherever he wants!

“Katsuki~!” You giggled as he grabbed you from behind and just sat there for a minute, pressing his face into the nape of your neck. “My love!” You smile in the comfort of his arms. The two of you were currently in the dorm room hallways, he had caught you on the way back to your dorm from the showers.

“Hm?” He answered, just trying to soak in the fresh smell of your shampoo and body wash. “I need to put all my things away.” You place your empty hand on his arms, hanging on to your small basket of shower necessities. “Don’t wanna let you go..” he tightened his grip onto your waist.

“Love I need to put these away then go talk to the girls about something.” You try moving forward a bit only to be stopped in place by your bulky boyfriend. Damn, why’d he have to be this beefy? You thought to yourself trying to look at him by turning your head slightly, only seeing the top of his head.

Katsuki loved holding you. It felt like everything would melt away as soon as you were in his arms. He felt just lighter, calmer, and overall recharged after dealing with the idiots in Class 1-A.

“One min’…” he pressed his face deeper into your neck, taking a deep breath. This action tickled you, letting out a beautiful giggle as he took in your scent. “Katsu that tickles!” You laugh.

Oh how Katsuki loves your laugh. He can never get enough of you.

Katsuki was clingy, indeed. But he of course gives space you need or space he needs. But sometimes you two don’t even notice when he’s clinging onto you, or any sort of touch he has because it’s just so normal for the two of you.

Well everyone else knows and try not to say anything about it.

“You and Bakugou are so cute!!” Mina cheers, shaking you violently “oh how I wish I had a man like that…!” She was so giggly. Finally you were able to hang out with the girls after Bakugou let himself recharge and let you be.

“Thank you Mina.” You grab her arms to stop her from shaking you. The girls loves to gush about relationships, especially as one as lovey dovey as you and Katsuki’s relationship. They always tell you to spill, kiss and tell.

You only shared small details, not too many because you knew how Katsuki likes to keep your relationship stuff private. He really doesn’t want it to get to the guys. Even though they see how clingy he is and tease him about it all the time.

“Fuck off! Yer’ all just mad you can’t get a girl to touch ya!” Katsuki yelled, rolling his eyes at Sero and Denki’s teasing.

Katsuki, sadly his room was bombarded by some of the Class 1-A idiots. What did they want? To poke, tease, and stick their noses in each others business. All he wanted was you in his bed, letting him hold you.

“Cmon man! You don’t even hide it, at least some guys would keep the touching on the low!” Denki teased. Katsuki just glared at him, slumping against the edge of his bed.

“Guys he does have a point, how can you tease him for loving his girl when you guys don’t even have one?” Kirishima, always coming to defend Katsuki. At this point Katsuki was just tuning them all out, he just wished he stopped you from going to hang out with the girls so he could cuddle you.

Katsuki loves you, he wouldn’t stop you from pursuing anything. He wouldn’t stop you from having friends, or even going out with them. Sucks that he just wants to be with you all the time. Just being around you was comforting.

Katsuki was getting impatient, he wanted these guys gone and you in here pronto.

“Alright fuckers get out.” He stood up, starting to push out the protesting guys. And once those guys were out, he pulled out his phone to text you.

Katsu( ˘ ³˘)♥︎: cmover. Now.

The sudden buzz of your phone startled you, going to see who had texted you, a smile spreading across your face. You excuse yourself from the rest of the girls and they all happily wave you bye. Off you go to see your clingy loving boyfriend.

Katsuki loved touching you. No matter what nothing will change. His eyes will never leave you, and his hands will always cling to you. You’re a high that never ends. And he loves that you accept his touch, his love, and his temper. He loves you.

AN: I hope you like this! I was spit balling and just rotting my own brain with Katsu :3 let me know if you’d like a tag list or anything! Love you guysss.

#bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bakugou fluff #mha fluff

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foreingersgod · 2 days

Note

Can you write a KK Arnold x femreader when maybe the reader is over working herself in basketball stressing over if she deserves her spot on the team and kk finds out and what she would do??

You’re Enough . KA

pairing: kk arnold x reader

synopsis: you’ve dedicated your life to basketball, but sometimes you get in your own head. luckily, kk is here to help

for my favs ;) @strwb3rryyy @ilovepaigebueckerss

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

“FUCK” you yelled into the somewhat empty gymnasium. the echoes of your voice vibrated off the walls, taunting you. the basketball that had just bounced off of the rim, rolling past your feet.

you took a heavy breathe, letting your hands rest on your knees as you bent over. sweat dripped off your forehead and onto the varnished court floor. the beating of your heart slowed as you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration.

recently, you’ve been struggling with your game. the last few games you had played were lost and you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault. in your mind, you were letting UCONN down. you were a fairly strong player and brought many assets to the team, but this season was tough. your footing was all wrong, your projection was shit, and you were getting pushed around left and right on the court.

the team just had to win the next game or else it was over for you for the season. you vowed to work extra hard, trying to get back to your normal self. you would spend an extra hour before and after practice and do extra training in the gym. plus, you would spend nights like this one, on the court late at night to practice even more.

your girlfriend, KK, noticed your new habits instantly. you were never one to practice more than you needed to because you’d rather be home with her or hanging out with friends. she noticed the way your demeanor had changed, too, how you were sadder and more dismissive than normal. you were rarely spending with her anymore and she found you making up excuses as to why you needed improve. she always made sure to remind you how amazing you were, that you were an important part of the team. but it seemed you didn’t believe her. it was clear that you were overworking yourself.

a sentimental sigh sounded from somewhere behind you, followed by a series of dense footsteps. you didn’t need to hear anything else to know who it was. the muscles in your back ached when you stood up to turn around.

“baby” you heard kk’s smooth voice “you need to take a break”

she looked at your angry state, taking note of your flushed face and tired eyes. you looked a mess, beautiful to her still, but worn out nonetheless. you planted your hands on your hips, chest still heaving to catch your breathe as she sauntered over to you. her expression was littered with concern, lips tugging downward into a frown.

“i can’t” you sniffled, feeling like you were about to cry. before kk could reach you-you knew that she would most definitely convince you to stop if she got her hands on you-you strutted over to the sideline where your water bottle and bag sat “i gotta get ready for the game next week”

“i know, but we’ve got practices all week, ok? it’s like 11 pm, we should be in bed right now”

“s’not enough” water dribbled down the sides of your mouth as you took a drink of water, eyeing your girlfriend as she continued to walk closer to you “i’ve been playing like shit, i’ve got to get better”

“you’re not playing like shit, ok yo-”

you felt her warm, calloused hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you, but you wouldn’t hear it. you knew the actuality of it all. this season was bad and you were an equally bad player. if you didn’t work harder, you wouldn’t have a spot on the team anymore.

“no, kamorea, i am”

her full name? oh this was serious.

“i haven’t been helpful at all these past few games. i know it, you know, everyone knows it. i can’t make a shot to save my life and i’m practically throwing the game away”

“that’s not true” she tried to diffuse the situation, knowing you were caught up in your own head “you’re one of the best players on the team, YN. just because you’ve had a rough few weeks doesn’t mean you’re a shitty player”

“but it’s not just a few weeks, it’s the whole fucking season. with how i’ve been playing? i don’t deserve a spot on the team at all”

“babe” she scoffed sadly. she couldn’t believe you had actually said that…and meant it, too “you don’t really believe that do you?”

the early stages of tears pricked your eyes, threatening to spill as the emotion started to build up. it had been bothering you for a long time and you thought you had this all under control. just work harder and be better and everything would be ok. but the obsessive idea that you weren’t good enough ate away at the back of your mind. now you were being forced to confront it, having to deal with the consequences.

“yea i mean,” you choked back a sob causing kk to become quite alarmed and close the space between you two for good. her arms guided you into her chest, squeezing tightly around you waist and rubbing your back sympathetically “i just feel like i’m never going to be good enough for the team”

you buried your face into her long sleeve shirt, tears soaking into the fabric as you finally let yourself cry fully. your whole body shook with sobs, kk still caressing you gently. she jutted out her chin to let it rest on the top of your head, tucking your head under her jaw to keep you closer.

“hey, hey” she cooed into your ear, running a hand through your hair “it’s ok, just breathe, it’s gonna be ok”

the gym was entirely still silent, your quieting hiccups being the exception. kk held you closely in the hug until she heard you fall silent. you pulled away from the hug slightly, giving yourself room to brush hair out of your face and calm down. she looked down at you, hands coming up to your face and cupping your cheeks. her thumbs brushed under your eyes to wipe away any stray tears.

“i’m sorry” you huffed. you were mad at yourself for letting this get out of hand

“don’t be” she shook her head “don’t ever feel sorry for something like this, ok? i know you’ve been struggling this season, but i promise you it’s nothing. every player knows what you’re going through and understands what you’re feeling. but i’m begging you, please know that you have every right to be on this team. you’re resilient, you’re smart, you’re fast, you’re everything we need in a teammate. and if you can’t see it, just know i do. please don’t be so hard on yourself, you’re doing amazing”

your heart pounded, seeing the way she looked at you with so much adoration and care. kk always knew what to say, especially when you needed it the most. you were so lucky to have her in your life.

“i don’t deserve you, you know that?” is all you managed to say, thoughts of inadequacy already ideas of the past.

that made her grin, taking your hands into hers “you do, you deserve that and so much more. i love you so much”

“i love you even more” you leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“impossible” she mumbled, catching you in a real kiss before you pulled away “but can we leave now? i’m tired”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes, but nodding in agreement. this entire night had you exhausted too. so you grabbed your stuff, slinging your bag over your shoulder as the two of you walked out the gym and to kk’s car. her arm kept a firm position on your hip, a sweet reminder that she was always there for you.

what would you do without her?

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #kk #arnold #uconn wbb #wlw #lesbian #foreingersgod

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lovemomhatepolice · 18 hours

Text

rafe cameron nswf alphabet (part 2) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Rafe would never agree to group sex in his life. Maybe it would have crossed his mind even earlier when he wasn't in a relationship with you and just had a single life, but now there's no way he would agree to it. Even more so for sex with another man, oh no. He wouldn't tolerate the sight of you and someone else giving you pleasure

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, let's not kid ourselves, Rafe definitely prefers to receive something than to give. Although let's not hide it, this is slowly changing, and thanks to you! (And for you) Previously, he was only focused on his own pleasure, and now he wants to give it to you as well, because after all, you are his only princess, whom he has to take care of and make sure she is quite satisfied But yes, he's pretty darn talented

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Here, too, I don't think there is too much to say. It really depends on your mood, because Rafe can also be slow and tender, but very often your sex is just rough. Not that you don't like it, on the contrary. Ever since you started having sex with Rafe, you immediately liked it, and what's to say, the boy definitely knows what he's doing And just so you know! Even though he's harsh, that doesn't mean he's hurting you

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Ay, this man is definitely a fan of fast rounds. I think he very often feels the need to just take you to any toilet and just fuck you. That's right, that's why quickies are paradise for him. Wherever you are, you are always in the mood for them How often? Often. But not as often as your evening long games

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) The risk is as much as you allow. Rafe doesn't seem to me to be the type who insisted very much. After all, he is the son of one of the most influential men on the island, after all, he can't disgrace the name. As much as he would love to show everyone that you are his and only his, there are limits he won't cross himself, much less without your loud approval. He's more of a risk taker when it comes to getting you pregnant…

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He can score many rounds, really, is how much he has in him…. oh jesus Do you want one round? Alright, there will be one. You want five? There will be five. As much as you are able to endure, so long will Rafe be able to endure as well. Sometimes a little shorter, he'll satisfy you with his hand or mouth, and sometimes longer than you do, so he'd probably expect the same from you

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) He doesn't have and has never had toys intended for himself. Nor has he ever been a big fan of them, because he thought he could do everything himself much better than some plastic. However, once he saw you satisfying yourself with a vibrator while he was home, I swear, Rafe went crazy Now he occasionally pulls it out of your drawer when you fuck and it assists your orgasm, and sometimes he just wants you to show him how you satisfy yourself

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) The man is a bloody teaser. He can touch you somewhere all day, send you all sorts of bawdy messages and behave in the worst way he can, only to pretend later in the evening that none of this happened and leave you alone craving remarks. The same during intercourse, when you are already geared up to take him in…. Ah, Rafe

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Rafe is not a fan of being loud. Of course, you may hear loud sighs or gasps of air coming from his mouth. Often moans as well, but in his case it is quite muffled. He much prefers to listen to your loud voice, which shudders from the satisfaction it gives your body

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) In the past, he often had sex under the influence of drugs, so long as he didn't really feel anything but them and the created satisfaction. It wasn't until he met you and put them aside that he saw what real intimacy was and that he didn't need powders and pills at all to be satisfied

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He is big, really, after all. It will come as no surprise to anyone when I write this very thing. Rafe is big and there is no fooling himself. And at the same time he's damn experienced, which is why he knows how to fit in perfectly in you

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Rafe could fuck all day. I swear, you and him are like fucking rabbits. But what a surprise, Rafe Cameron is irresistible and he thinks the same about you. As soon as he sees you, he immediately wants to have you as close as he can. And of course it shows - I'll say it again, Rafe Cameron is a clingy guy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He doesn't fall asleep very quickly, I assume he has sleep problems caused by various traumatic events. When you are next to him, of course, he falls asleep much easier, however, he continues to have problems with them. He likes to lie down and touch your bare hands or hair to calm down a bit and fall asleep faster, but this doesn't always work out, so you stay with him longer and wait until he falls asleep so you can fall asleep easily yourself, without worrying that your boyfriend won't get a wink of sleep all night

A/N: first part! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

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obsessivedreamling · 1 day

Text

Home

Hob gives the boys a living space. Edwin isn’t sure how to feel about this.

—-•—-•—-•—-•—-

Ghost didn’t have homes.

At least, according to Edwin’s understanding they didn’t.

They had haunts, of course, and places their unsettled souls would return to, but they didn’t have homes.

Edwin wasn’t even entirely sure he remembered what a home truly was. He’d spent so long in hell in the same place over and over again, that when he left…he didn’t want to be stuck in the same place. Luckily for him, Charles was willing and enthusiastic to travel and explore.

It wasn’t until the ghostly duo met Hob Gadling that things slowly began to change.

It started with a small, friendly conversation, which grew into the boys coming around to the pub every night to talk and…well, relax. Which was something Edwin definitely wasn’t used to.

One day, Hob ushered them to the basement. He flicked on a light, and Edwin and Charles stared in shock.

It was a whole living space. There were tables and chairs and bookshelves, a couch and plush arm chairs on top of a large, ornate rug.

“It’s not much,” Hob said as he ran a hand through his hair, nervously. “But I didn’t like the idea of you boys not having a place of your own to be able to come back to.” He gave them a small smile. “Ghost or not, everyone needs a space of their own.”

Charles immediately took to their new surroundings, cheering as he claimed the worn couch that had been provided as his very own spot.

Edwin was more hesitant, his mind spiraling. He didn’t want to be locked and trapped to one place. Not again.

A heavy, yet gentle hand on his shoulder pulled him from his mind, and he turned to look at Hob, who was smiling softly at him. “I’m not trying to keep you here, Edwin. You’re free to come and go as you please. I just wanted you to have somewhere you could always come back to.”

Edwin stared a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, Hob.”

Hob grinned, and gave his shoulder a small squeeze before he launched himself onto Charles, who screamed and laughed.

Edwin tried not to latch onto this place. He liked Hob, a lot, and Dream, but he was still wary.

He hadn’t really realized how much he’d become accustomed to their new place until a particular case kept them away for a week.

When they had finally returned, it was the dead of night. They slipped in through the walls and floorboards to their living space, in case Hob was asleep. It was hard to tell when Hob was awake or not. He always kept a lamp on in his flat regardless of the time of day and his sleeping patterns were…strange. Sometimes he was up all hours of the night, and sometimes he wouldn’t sleep for days until Dream came to scold him and make him sleep.

As they entered into the basement Charles let out a happy sigh and slumped onto the worn couch, stretching as he said, “God, it’s great to be home.”

Home.

Edwin paused and looked around the space.

The walls that had been once bare held a mosaic of art Edwin enjoyed as well as odd little knickknacks from Crystal and pictures torn out of magazines that Charles liked. There were plants that Crystal had been growing on the table along with random things Charles had picked up during their adventures. The bookshelves held a strange collection of books that ranged from poetry to history to occult tombs to manga Niko brought in case Edwin wanted to read them. By the door, leaning against the wall, rested Charles cricket bat as well as a coat rack that held ridiculous disguises Charles and Crystal would wear, swearing that they worked.

“Edwin? You ok?”

Edwin blinked, not realizing he was crying until warm tears ran down his face.

Home.

They had a home.

This wasn’t a prison, this wasn’t hell, this wasn’t the attic or the chest.

This was home. His home. His home with Charles and Hob and Dream.

He turned around immediately and went through the wall and up to Hob’s flat. He raised a fist to knock, then hesitated. If Hob was asleep, he certainly didn’t want to wake him, especially since Dream was so insistent that Hob actually sleep…but then again Hob always told them if they needed him, to please get him.

He took a deep breath and knocked. He was surprised to hear Hob say, muffled, “Come in, Edwin.”

Edwin passed through the door and saw Hob leaning over kitchen counter, with a mug in his hands, smiling.

“How…”

“You’d be surprised how the building sounds when you both pass through walls and doors. It’s like an exhale, as if the old place is at ease. Plus…” He grinned. “Dream and Charles don’t knock.” He waved at one of the stools at the counter. “Come, sit. Tell me where you two trouble-makers have been for the last week.”

Edwin smiled a little, settled on the stool, and began regaling to Hob their latest case.

As Edwin finished and Hob turned to fill his coffee again, the ghost boys said, softly, “Thank you, Hob.”

Hob stopped and turned back, tilting his head to one side in confusion. “For what?”

“For…for giving Charles and I place. A…a home.”

The immortal smiled wide and warm. “You don’t need to thank me. I was hoping it would eventually feel like a home to you boys.”

Edwin dropped his gaze to his entwined hands. “It’s been a long time…since a place felt like that. I…honestly thought I had forgotten what a home felt like entirely.”

That same heavy yet gentle hand that had been on his shoulder as reassurance weeks ago now placed itself over Edwin’s hands. He looked up into Hob’s gentle, unchanging face. “No matter how far you travel or how long you’re gone for…you will always have a home here, Edwin. I promise you that.”

Edwin’s smile trembled as his eyes filled with tears, but if Hob noticed he didn’t say. Instead, he gave the young ghost’s hands a small pat. “I’m sure Charles is feeling lonely. Should we continue this downstairs?”

Edwin blinked, slightly confused. “But…I have already told you about the case.”

“Yes, you did, but…” He winked at Edwin. “I always enjoy listening to Charles stretch the truth a little. Weave his tales.”

Edwin chuckled and stood up from where he was seated. As they moved towards Hob’s door, the immortal placed a hand on Edwin’s back.

“By the way, welcome back home, Edwin.”

Edwin smiled.

Yes.

Home.

—-•—-•—-•—-•—-

Im probably gonna post a few of these warm, sweet little headcanon ficlets.

Because I like them and they make me feel good.

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willowrites · 1 day

Note

A Conrad Fisher best friends to lovers one. Denial from both of them and angst even though they both love each other. Maybe drunk kissing/jealousy?

SOBER THOUGHTS DRUNK ACTIONS

PAIRINGS. conrad fisher x fem reader

SUMMARY. your beginning of the summer party takes a turn…

WARNINGS. drinking, making out, cheating (not really)

AUTHORS NOTE. i love this one!! the emotional knees always get me! hope you enjoy <3 not proofread yet

WORD COUNT. to be counted.

the only thing that was distracting you from the fact that conrad had his arm around another girl was the loud music booming from the speakers.

you guys throw a massive beginning of the summer party now that you guys were back in cousins.

you had gotten there just a week before to plan it and were talking about it even before summer started.

so now that it was here, you were supposed to be having an awesome time.

confirmed: you were not having an awesome time.

belly was with her new summer bae; cam cameron. steven was with another girl he’d met at his job. jere was somewhere off with who knows…and conrad? conrad was with a girl who looked disappointingly beautiful.

your stare burned holes on the side of his face.

you were raging because even though you both are super close best friends you’ve had feelings for him for forever and you felt as if you should’ve done something about it before he was able to get a girlfriend.

but now here you are, staring at them laughing and giggling with their feet dipped in the pool like the cute little couple they were. ugh.

you wanted to bury your thoughts and feelings so you went ahead and served you some spiked punch that steven had made.

as time went on you had one too many of those cups. you weren’t blackout drunk per se but you would be waking up to a killer headache the next morning that’s for sure.

you stumbled outside carrying your red cup in one hand and your phone in the other.

you walked up to conrad and his new girl not even thinking of what to say.

“oh hey y/n…” conrad had suspicion in his voice. “a-are you okay?”

conrad had never seen you like this. sure maybe you guys have gotten tipsy a few times together but never this drunk.

“oh i’m fine connie dont worry a-about me!” you slurred patting his shoulder. “and you are?” you eyes the girl next to him.

“oh im nicole” she smiled. “it’s really nice to meet you.”

“mmm yeah nice to meet you! i didn’t know little connie here had a girlfriend!” you looked at him then back at her.

“oh uh it’s something fairly new…” she admitted awkwardly. “hopefully soon though right?” she tried to laugh it off.

“y/n, i think we should get you some water.” he tried to guide you back toward the back door of the house.

“oh no no! you wouldn’t wanna leave your girlfriend here all alone would you??” you grabbed his arm and pushed it off you. “by all means don’t let me ruin this beautiful conversation you’re having.”

you stumbled backward but didn’t realize you hit the edge of the pool.

conrad tried to grab your hand but it was too late as you fell onto your back into the water.

you didn’t realize what was going on until you genuinely couldn’t breathe due to the water that made its way inside your throat and nose.

you heard someone else jump in and grab you pulling you up.

you were coughing and choking on the water gagging trying to take a breath.

“fuck fuck fuck!” you heard conrad’s voice as he lead you to the edge of the pool. “come on y/n. you’re okay.”

you grabbed hold of the ledge trying to keep yourself up as you tried to cough and get some air.

as you were calming down you saw jere above you lending you a hand.

you grabbed his hand and allowed him to pull you so that you were on your knees trying to breathe slowly.

“what the fuck happened?” he asked conrad.

“dude she’s fucked up right now. i gotta go take her to her room. she’s done for the night.” he said. his words had to ur blood boiling.

you had cleared your throat enough to speak. “you don’t make decisions for me. i’m…i’m fine!” you stumbled away heading toward the gate that led to the beach.

you tried to scrunch up your shorts to get rid of the water as well as your shirt. you heard someone else behind you and the gate slam.

“y/n! get back here.” conrad.

“leave me alone.” you said. not bothering to yell it out.

“look, let’s just go back inside so that you can clean up. i know you’re not comfortable in these wet clothes and neither am i.” he grabbed your arm once again and for a split second you were going to push him away but he was right.

you hated being in wet clothes.

“i’m only doing this because i want to.” you muttered walking back to the house.

as soon as you made it upstairs you went straight to your room and conrad followed you.

you turned around, annoyed. “i don’t remember inviting you to come in.”

he put his hands up in defense. “i just need to make sure you’re okay. you need to hydrate.”

“i’m fine. i don’t need you to babysit me.” you start brushing out your hair. it’s the one think that would calm you down. to have untangled hair.

“i know you don’t. why the fuck are you acting like this?” he was getting irritated by the minute.

“go back with your fucking girlfriend conrad.” you dismissed him.

“no. i am here because i need to make sure you are okay.” he walked further into your bathroom.

“whatever.” you mumbled looking at yourself.

“can you look at me?” he sternly questioned. “why are you being weird?”

“if you’re gonna be here can you be here silently.” you were persistent on showing him how mad you were. even if it was unfair.

conrad’s frustration was really starting to blind him.

he moved you so that you were looking at him not realizing how close you two were.

you were leaned against the bathroom counter hands on it trying to hold yourself; his face inches from yours.

“what’s wrong?” he was searching your eyes for something.

your eyes started to sting from the tears that were forming. “nothing.” you whispered.

his eyebrows furrowed. he saw how emotional you were becoming and he hated it. he didn’t know what to do.

you were looking at him surveying his face which was doing the same thing.

you looked at him with love. you couldn’t help it. you tilted your head to the side shutting your eyes causing a few tears to fall.

looks like you were an emotional drunk.

you then leant your head on his shoulder silently trying to stop crying.

his arms wrapped around you.

you guys stood there for a moment. you then took a deep breath and sniffed to stop your nose from running.

you lifted up your head to meet the same blue eyes. your breathing stopped for a second as he wasn’t making eye contact with you. he was looking at your lips like he was thinking of his next step.

you didn’t know what to do but before you could act out on anything, he connected your lips.

you didn’t know how to respond until his hands grabbed your face taking dominance of the kiss causing you to start kissing back.

as he molded his lips with yours you breathed in his scent. he smelled like the ocean and vanilla.

he tasted like the fruit punch you were drinking earlier. his hands were soft and warm making you feel so safe.

he pushed his tongue into your mouth earning a whimper from him.

he then tapped your leg and whispered, “jump.” causing you to follow his words.

you jumped as he carried you and placed you on the counter.

his hands were on your hips continuing to push you further back until you had to prop yourself on your hands to keep yourself from hitting your head or falling against the mirror.

you continued to kiss for a few more seconds before you both had to catch your breath.

his mouth was next to your ear. you could here every single breath, every hitch. you closed your eyes taking in the moment.

“i love you, y/n.” he whispered in your ear. “for a while i’ve felt this way.”

he was admitting it all now.

you were stunned. your eyes opened up immediately sobering up.

“i…i…” you stuttered.

he pulled back, both of you face to face now.

“you don’t have to say anything but i need you to know how i feel.” he reassured.

“i love you.” you said.

he immediately smiled

you smiled back starting to giggle excessively.

he kissed you once more then pulled away.

“can we please get ready for bad and continue to tell each other how much we love each other.” he asked nuzzling his nose to your cheek.

“mmm, yes please.”

#✮⋆˙ 𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑶𝑾 #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher smut #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher fluff #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #conrad fisher imagine #the summer i turned pretty au

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matttgirlies · 19 hours

Text

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - drinking,, sexual references

y/nn = your nickname if your confused🩷

Chapter 8

After Christmas we did something exciting every night, usually beginning after midnight. Sometimes Matt rented either the Memphian or the Malco theater to watch movies. Other times he rented the entire Rainbow Skating Rink, the infamous roller rink I’d heard so much about.

My first night there I was lacing up my skates when the boys asked me, “Do you know how to skate?”

“Sure,” I said.

“But do you know how to skate?” they persisted.

I got the message real fast when a box of knee pads was passed around. This was not your ordinary around the rink to organ music skating. The idea here was to keep your bones intact.

I wobbled onto the rink only to wobble off. I wasn’t about to stay on that floor after seeing the determined looks on the other skaters’ faces. They made the Roller Derby look mild. From the sideline, I watched them rounding the rink, adjusting their jackets and shirts so they weren’t too tight and checking that their arms and legs were securely padded.

Then Matt skated into their midst, calling out, “Okay, everybody. Y’all clear the way on the sidelines. I don’t want anybody hurt over there. Honey, why don’t you get on the other side there with Louise [Gene Smith’s wife]. The rest of you, get your asses somewhere else.” They all started laughing, and he said, “Okay, let’s go!”

About twenty-five skaters locked hands, forming what they called a whip. Skating abreast, they began circling the rink, building up speed. The objective of the game was to remain unscathed at speeds of over ten miles per hour. It could be very dangerous if you were to lose your balance or if you were at the tail end, when, by turning quickly, they all “cracked the whip.”

There were a lot of falls, but despite the danger, Matt seemed to know exactly what he was doing. I noticed that whenever someone was hurt, he was the first to see if they were all right and to decide if they should continue to play.

I still don’t know how anybody kept from getting seriously injured, yet no one complained and most of them were even willing to do it again the next night. It was rough, but as Matt put it, “If you’re man enough to get out there, then you better be man enough to take the licks.”

New Year’s Eve was approaching. Matt told Alan to rent the Manhattan Club for the evening and to invite about two hundred people, Matt’s friends and the presidents and other members of his fan clubs.

Although I was excited about the party, I couldn’t help thinking that after New Year’s Eve I would have to leave. Matt kept telling me not to think about it. I noticed that whenever I mentioned a problem to him he’d just say, “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it. I’ve got enough to think about without having to worry about that.”

He always avoided problems. If I was disturbed or depressed, or if I felt we were becoming distant and wanted to get closer by talking it out, he avoided me or told me my timing was bad. There was never a good time.

Once I reproached him about the attention he was lavishing on the girlfriend of one of the regulars. She was very attractive, about my height, with black hair and a nice figure. She had come into the kitchen, where several of us were sitting, and Matt, who was wearing dark sunglasses, began making comments like, “Boy, it’s getting warm in here. Anybody else warm?”

I was so upset I left the room. I waited for him to go upstairs, then followed shortly behind him. “Matt, I have to talk to you,” I said.

“Sure, Honey, what is it?”

“I saw the way you were eyeing that girl. It upset me.”

“Look, woman,” he said, losing his temper. “No one tells me who I can look at and who I can’t. Besides, your imagination’s getting carried away. I’ve seen her ass around here long before today.”

With that I stomped out, slamming the bedroom door. I felt betrayed that he’d even desire another woman and was annoyed that he’d never admit it. I became obsessed and watched what Matt liked, what attracted him, trying to be everything he ever imagined a woman could be, and more.

The New Year’s Eve party at the Manhattan Club started around 10 p.m., but Matt timed our arrival a few minutes before midnight. We just had time to order double screwdrivers when the countdown began. Then we all sang “Auld Lang Syne.”

As people shouted “Happy New Year!” Matt pulled me close and said, “Baby, I don’t want you to go back. You’re staying here. We’ll call your parents in the morning.”

I was in such a state of ecstasy that I didn’t notice what I was drinking: four double screwdrivers, all drunk through a straw. After one double, I was feeling high; after four, I was reeling. I went into the ladies’ room with Louise and stayed there for what seemed like hours, swaying back and forth in the stall, trying to get myself together.

When we finally returned to the table, I tried to act as if everything was okay, but Matt took one look at me and said, “Baby, we better get you home. You’re in no condition to be here.” He asked his old friend George Klein, the Memphis disc jockey, if he would take me home.

I spent most of the ride back to Graceland with my head out the window. George and his date walked me to the door, where we said good night, and I let myself in.

Gripping the banister, I slowly climbed the white stairs, shedding my clothing as I went: my jacket, purse, shoes, and blouse left in a long trail up the steps. By the time I reached the bedroom I was wearing only my bra and panties. I collapsed on the bed and passed out.

A few hours later I heard Matt tiptoe into the room and come over to me. His condition was not much better than mine. I could make out his silhouette against the ceiling above me. I didn’t stir. Gently, he took off the rest of my clothes. Then he kissed me and kissed me over and over. This night we almost went too far. His vow was nearly broken. My passion had gotten to him and under the influence of alcohol, he weakened. Then, before I knew what happened, he withdrew saying, “No. Not like this.” It had to be special, just as he’d always planned.

I have to admit that, at that moment i didn’t care if it was special and I didn’t care what he’d vowed. I didn’t care, in fact, what he wanted at all. I only knew I wanted him.

The next morning my head throbbed with a terrible hangover. I felt ashamed and embarrassed—and yet not at all sorry about what we’d done. He was a little closer to being all mine.

The moment of truth came when we called my father in Germany. Matt was on the extension in his office and I was on another phone somewhere else in the house. Though the connection to Wiesbaden was filled with static, there was no mistaking my father’s words.

“Young lady, I will not go through this conversation again. We made an agreement. You were to leave there on the second of January. You’ve got one day left and you’d better be on that flight!”

Matt interjected, “Captain, sir, if she could just stay a couple more days. I have to be back in L.A. soon, and it would be nice—”

“Matt, I can’t do that. She has to be back in school and that was the deal. I’m sorry. y/n y/ln, are you there?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“We’ll be at the airport. You know the time; we’ll see you then.”

I was furious. I flew into Matt’s office where, sitting behind his desk, he was just hanging up.

“I hate them. I hate them both,” I yelled like a spoiled child. “Why are they stopping us? They just want me home to babysit, to take care of the kids, that’s all.”

Matt’s face was flushed with anger. “We made a goddamn agreement—who the hell does he think he is, talking like that on the goddamn phone—him and his military upbringing.”

He grabbed the phone and called down to the kitchen, demanding, “Where’s my dad! He down there? Tell him to come upstairs to the office.”

Within seconds James was at the door. “What is it, Son?”

“Goddamn Captain y/ln,” he shouted. “We just called to see if y/nn could stay a few more days and he comes off with this cocky attitude and refuses with his jargon about making agreements.”

“Now calm down, Son. It ain’t that bad. He was probably just concerned about her being home in time for school.”

“School, what the hell do I care about school?” Matt snapped, ignoring James’s efforts to soothe him. “Put her into school here, that’ll solve everything. She doesn’t need school. Hell, they don’t teach you anything nowadays anyway.”

“Well, Son, she’s gonna have to go back, there ain’t no two ways about it, give or take a day or two.”

“Goddamn, Dad, you’re not helpin’ matters any,” Matt said, but he was beginning to calm down. He sat back in his big desk chair and swiveled it around to face the window, then gazed out toward the pastures. Finally he turned around and announced that he had a plan.

Matt’s strategy called for me to return to Germany and to arrive in good spirits, then to concentrate on doing well in school so that my parents wouldn’t be able to use my poor grades as an excuse for not letting me return. Matt wanted me to finish high school in Boston and to that end he would make arrangements for me to return as soon as possible.

Germany

Although Matt said that I should greet my parents with a friendly smile, from the moment I got off the plane, my attitude was one of defiance. I now believed that my parents were a threat to my future happiness. I didn’t realize that their fears and concerns were entirely reasonable. All that mattered to me was what Matt and I wanted, and no one was going to stand in our way.

The weather was cold and dreary, which certainly didn’t help my mood. I walked through customs to find my parents waiting. Noting my attitude, their expressions were cool, their welcome stiff. No loving arms wrapped around me, no loving words greeted me. Only my father’s abrupt order, “Let’s go.”

The drive back to Wiesbaden seemed longer than forty-five minutes. I sat in the backseat in icy silence. No one mentioned my request to stay at Graceland.

“All in all, did you have a nice time?” Dad ventured.

“Yes,” I replied, looking out the window at the clusters of trees bare from the harsh winter.

“Did Matt like your present?” Mother asked hopefully.

“Yes,” I assured her. “He loved it.”

“Was it as cold in Boston as it gets here?” Dad asked, keeping the conversation light, trying to make me open up and talk.

“No, it’s colder here,” I replied sharply, referring to both the weather and my attitude. Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and surprisingly, Dad looked away rather than reacting to my cutting remark.

I knew I was pushing my luck with them, but I couldn’t suppress my feelings and pretend that everything was all right. I was so deeply in love that chitchat seemed pointless—as did everything except for Matt. I remembered how he had held me before we said goodbye, with such emotion and need that nothing could keep me away from him. How could I explain these adult feelings to my parents who, I thought, could never understand and would think me silly or just infatuated?

When we arrived home Dad said, “Well, you’ve got school tomorrow, so try to get as much rest as you can tonight.”

Mom added, “You should have dinner and get right to bed.”

Did they both honestly think that I could slip back into the routine of ordinary life?

I rebelled against going to school. I skipped classes, went to town, and downed a few beers with whoever I could get to join me. My attitude worsened along with my grades.

My parents were as confused as any caring parents would be, hoping the problem would eventually go away. But I didn’t make it easy for them. What had started out as a simple introduction to the world’s greatest rock-and-roll star had turned into a nightmare for them.

Matt began calling me almost immediately, and we’d talk for hours. My parents heard me whispering and giggling till three in the morning and wondered what on earth we could be talking about for so long. Nothing really—yet it seemed like everything.

I began to reveal to my mother that Matt and I loved each other and longed to be together. Finally one day I summoned the courage to tell her that Matt wanted me to finish school in Boston. Her response: an unqualified no. She felt it could wait until my father’s tour of duty was over. That would be the end of summer, she said, and there was no need for me to return to Matt sooner.

“But Mother,” I pleaded, “you don’t understand. He wants me there with him.”

“Why you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “Why can’t he find someone his own age? You’re only sixteen. What is this man doing to our family?”

She buried her face in her hands and began crying.

I did feel sorry for her. We were always close, she was always there for me, but this time she just didn’t understand. I hated seeing her in pain, but nothing seemed more important to me than Matt. Not even my mother.

“He’s not anything like you imagine,” I said, “and he needs me, Mother. I won’t get hurt. Please talk to Dad.”

Slowly she raised her head and looked at me.

“y/nn, I’d never forgive myself if I let you go and if you came back to us with a broken heart. You’re so young! You have no idea what lies ahead of you. All you know is you’re in love. Do you know how difficult that is to fight?” She sighed. “I wouldn’t wish this on any parent.”

She brushed away her tears and after a moment said, “All right, I’ll talk to your father, but not just yet. It’s still too soon.”

I gave her a big hug and whispered, “Thank you, Mother. I know you can do it. I love you.”

Now I had to wait for my mother to intercede. I knew how much my father was against the idea. My parents still didn’t really know Matt’s intentions toward me. They only knew what I had told them. But they had also read in the newspapers that Matt was dating every one of the female costars in his movies, so naturally they were suspicious.

One day on the phone I told Matt, “If you want me to come back and go to school, you’re going to have to talk to my father yourself.”

“Put him on,” Matt replied. “I’m not MacArthur, but I can sure as hell try.”

Drawing on all of his charm, Matt assured my father that if I was permitted to move to Boston, I wouldn’t live with him at Graceland but with his dad, James, and his wife, Angela. Matt promised to enroll me in a good Catholic school—he’d choose it himself—and make sure I graduated. He said I’d always be chaperoned and that he’d care for me in every way. Declaring his intentions honorable, he swore that he loved and needed and respected me. In fact, he couldn’t live without me, he said, intimating that one day we’d marry.

This left my parents in a dilemma. If Matt were as sincere as he sounded, there was a chance that our relationship might work out. But if it didn’t work out, they ran the risk of my returning to them disillusioned and brokenhearted. If they refused to let me go, I might never forgive them and I would bitterly regret this unfulfilled love for the rest of my life. In that light, there was little they could do but say yes, and eventually they did.

In truth, I was as mystified as my parents were about why Matt wanted me to come live with him. I think he was attracted by the fact that I had a normal, stable childhood, and that I was very responsible, having helped my parents raise my younger brothers and sister. I was more mature at sixteen than I was at fourteen, when he’d met me, not only because I’d gone through the normal growing period, but also because I’d experienced the pain of living without him for those two years.

Most of all, he knew he could depend on me. I wasn’t interested in a career, in Hollywood, or in anything else that would draw my attention away from him. I also had all of the physical attributes that Matt liked, the fundamentals he could use in turning me into his ideal woman. In short, I had everything that Matt had been looking for in a woman: youth and innocence, total devotion, and no problems of my own. And I was hard to get.

I intended to do whatever I had to to hold him, because if he had ever sent me home, it would have meant not only that I’d been wrong in going to him, but that my parents had been wrong for having permitted it. I firmly resolved to make our relationship work, no matter what.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd.

This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - do you guys like longer chapters like this?🎀

#matt stuniolo fanfic #matthew sturn #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #Spotify

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captain-hawks · 2 days

Note

Reiner and brat taming?

reiner braun x f!reader + established jean kirstein x f!reader

In which Jean tells Reiner that he wouldn't be able to handle his bratty girlfriend in bed.

c: brat taming, oral fixation, spanking, masturbation, voyeurism, spit kink, implied threesome, band au

-> spicy sleepover

“Suck his dick.”

You turn to glance over at Jean as he takes another drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing a bright orange in the dimly lit room. He’s sitting on the other side of the bed, leaning against the wall with one ankle hooked over the other, lips curled upward in the ghost of a smirk. A shiver runs through you. Tilting his head back, Jean blows a puff of smoke upward toward the ceiling before eyeing the man sitting beside you.

Reiner’s blonde hair is mussed and sweaty from the show they played earlier, his shirt long-since discarded on the floor of yours and Jean’s bedroom, tattooed chest on full display. He’s yet to work his way out of his jeans, though the zipper remains undone with his cock hanging out of his boxers. His shaft is hard and flushed red, courtesy of the way you’d unceremoniously climbed into his lap after palming him through his pants, thus unable to resist the urge to feel his long, thick erection pressing against the wet heat between your thighs.

He’s not quite as big as Jean (who had quietly snorted when you murmured as much, “Told you she’s a fucking brat.”)

—but still big enough that you know he’ll have tears pricking at the corners of your eyes once he’s seated inside of you, and the thought has your mouth watering.

You're not entirely sure how the three of you ended up here—an off-handed challenge caught somewhere between post-show beers and a suggestive comment from Reiner that had Jean sputtering out a laugh as he glanced at you fondly and muttered, "I don't think you could handle her."

Now, Reiner’s chest rises and falls steadily as he looks at you expectantly, and as much as you want to see just how deep down your throat you can take his cock, you can’t make things that easy for him.

You certainly don’t for Jean.

And by the way Jean’s been not-so-subtly pressing the palm of his hand against his steadily growing erection, you know he’s eager to see how this will play out, too.

“Make me.”

Reiner looks to Jean, who takes another drag before he nods.

“C’mere.”

You stare at Reiner, raising an eyebrow before you feign indifference, glancing down at your nails instead. Jean chuckles, and you wonder how long he’s going to let this play out before Reiner’s suddenly right in front of you, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“Did you hear me?” His voice is low and rough, and you can feel the calluses that litter his fingers from the strings of his bass guitar.

Though you nod once, slowly, you make no move to do anything else, and he notices, making an affirming noise in response. His hand slides lower, fingertips wrapping around your neck, and he leans in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “Only good girls get fucked.”

You place your hands on either side of his face, pressing a kiss to mouth before slowly running your tongue along his bottom lip. “And what about bad girls?”

“Baby, you’re really asking for it,” Jean laughs darkly, running a hand through his hair, his voice still a little rough around the edges from singing earlier.

Reiner traces his fingers along the outline of your lips, and your mouth falls open slightly of its own accord, inviting him to press two inside. An appraising noise rumbles in his throat as you take the digits down to the knuckle, a fresh flood of arousal dripping between your legs while you suck on his fingers.

“See, you do know how to use that mouth,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the little whine you let out with he pulls his fingers out with a pop. “Now open.”

The moment your lips part, Reiner gives your throat a gentle caress before muttering, “Good girl,” and spitting in your mouth.

This time, you outright moan, clenching your thighs together as you swallow his saliva, shamelessly opening your mouth in a silent invitation for him to spit in it again. Meanwhile, you trail a hand up his thigh, reaching for his cock.

“You want more? You wanna suck my dick now?” he asks, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip.

You nod, fingertips closing over his shaft, but he bats you away. “Too bad, get on your knees.”

Your underwear are sopping wet at this point, and sticky arousal now drips down the inside of your thighs beneath your skirt—the only two items of clothing you’re still wearing.

Following his instructions, you prop yourself up on your hands and knees and face Jean, whose lust-blown pupils are trained on you as he strokes his achingly hard shaft. Turning back to Reiner, you tease him with a lilt in your voice, “If Jean fits in both holes, you definitely will. So take your pick.”

Jean raises an eyebrow, biting his lip in amusement as he starts to jack himself off a little harder. Meanwhile, without warning, your skirt is shoved up and your underwear pulled off in one fluid movement.

“Count to ten.”

Before you can come up with another snarky response, Reiner’s palm comes down on your ass—hard. You let out a yelp, body singing with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Reiner waits for you to comply, fingers ghosting over your dripping folds but denying you anything further.

You whine, and Jean shakes his head with a grin and silently mouths, “One.”

“One,” you exhale.

Reiner smacks your ass again, harder this time, and you nearly collapse forward, moaning as you feel fresh slick drip from your cunt and onto the sheets below.

“Jesus Christ,” Reiner murmurs, groaning at the sight before him.

“Yeah, she gets really fucking wet,” Jean adds helpfully.

It continues like this—Reiner spanking you, Jean mouthing the number you’re on because your lust-addled brain can’t keep up, not when all you want to do is moan and whimper and drool into the pillows.

“Ten,” you finally cry out, legs trembling hard as your needy, empty pussy spasms between your soaking wet thighs, sinfully close to the edge of an orgasm that you're on the verge of begging for at this point.

“Think she deserves it yet?” Reiner asks Jean, soothingly running a hand over your sore ass.

The mattress shifts as Jean comes closer, the familiar, comforting sense of his cologne invading your senses as he tips your head upward to look at him. His touch is feather-light as he caresses your face, mouth capturing your own in a heated kiss that nearly has you climbing into his lap.

“Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips, before pressing another kiss to your temple. And then to Reiner, “I think she deserves both of us now.”

#reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirchstein x reader #jean kirchstein #attack on titan #aot #attack on titan fanfiction #dee writes #spicy sleepover with captain-hawks

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arliedraws · 1 day

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I find it many things weird in Harry Potter, in general the plot holes are everywhere and things when you think about them just don't make much sense, even in storytelling perspective, and consistency.

One thing that I find appalling is how Sirius didn't notice the scarring on Harry's hand, from Umbridges lines. It's established canonically they're lasting scars. Sirius already had to watch from the literal shadows how Harry was enrolled in that tournament, already fearing for his godsons life bc he suspected Voldemort was involved. How couldn't any responsible guardian, not notice Harry was physically abused, again, under Dumbledores nose, but away from Sirius direct influence to be able to do anything. Then on top of that, Snape is gonna to do the occlumensy lessons, and while Sirius knew that was necessary, I mean, he was outraged when he heared Snape stopped it, but ok, he let it all slide? If I were Sirius I would have pulled Harry out myself for that year, enough is enough. If Dumbledores presence didn't prevent Harry's suffering, in fact his choices add to Harry's real physical abuse (Dursleys, certain teachers). Sirius could educate Harry theoretical until Umbridge was gone. Harrry was save enough in Grimmauld during christmas and the summer so why not.

Its like those I mustn't tell lies scars only are there when needed and then forgotten during times of the plot supporting characters might have reacted to them, like Sirius or whomever. Sirius is a genius wizard but can't turn into an unassuming anonymous figure to go outside, like Hermione did to Ron's features with just her wand and spells in b7, negating need for polyjuice, it's his dog form or permanent housearrest (which leads to disintegration of his mind /character and then he dies)

At some point I'm really suspect this is character driven anymore and just JKs incompetence to consistently implement Sirius's character. Like you already said somewhere here, he is a miracle character. Too clever, too bright, too loyal to continue in the story JK wanted to tell like you said somewhere before. I have a feeling JK didn't know what to do with Sirius, denigrated him and his character and then killed him off. His best role at the end to fulfill is to reinforce Harry's suffering and loneliness it seems, while Sirius actually was the main hope of Harry in the heart of the series. So meaningless!

While I love character metas, I think JK is a meanspirited woman, I always had that notion bc she reacted in some ways, even before the whole modern eh, shenanigans. And that meanness, pettiness and inconclusive attitude reflect in hps worldbuilding.

I agree with several points here!

If Sirius had been in a better mental space, I agree that he would have noticed the scars from the blood quill. However, we could also interpret this as Sirius being exceptionally depressed. Now, I’m not defending JKR here, but one thing we do have to remember is that Sirius was a convicted murderer and Harry’s legal guardians were the Dursleys. Sirius literally has no say in what Harry does. Sirius is not a person with rights—in the eyes of the law, he is due to have his soul sucked out. Anytime Sirius makes a decision on Harry’s behalf, it’s a courtesy thing, not a legal guardian thing. Unfortunately. It’s gross to say, but legally, Molly has the same rights as Sirius to tell Harry what to do—which is, gross.

Also, sure, Sirius could go out of number 12 in disguise but he’s in hiding because he knows he can’t risk his own safety for Harry’s sake. Dumbledore has made it very clear that Sirius is not to leave, and frankly, by the way Harry believed he had to rescue Sirius, this was actually probably the right call. Sirius is the most important person to Harry (and likewise), and if Sirius were taken captive by either the Ministry or Voldemort, Harry would done something unwise (which…he did). I’m not arguing that this is how it should have gone down, but theoretically (if you ignore the importance of mental health and stability lol), this should have been the right call.

But the point is, Voldemort’s ability to manipulate people and destroy friendships is what killed Sirius. Voldemort manipulated Dumbledore who thought he was smarter than Voldemort; Dumbledore prioritized keeping Harry alive but sacrificed Sirius in the end. I do think JKR punishes Sirius for being smart and attractive (lol), calling him rash when he’s really…not, but I think it’s important to recognize that even the smartest, most caring people can make mistakes and overlook the pain of the people they love most.

I think Sirius is partially in denial about some of Harry’s struggles. As a man of action, Sirius’s inclination is to fix things, and when he cannot fix in the way he believes is necessary, he shuts down. He comes alive at the end of OotP when he is able to help in the way he wants—and then JKR kills him for it lol.

Anyway, just some thoughts. I don’t actually think Sirius was behaving out-of-character, but I think JKR was unmerciful in putting this fictional character into situations that brought out the worst in him because it served the plot. Just my two cents though!

#sirius black #asks #hp meta

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heaven-s-black-box · 14 hours

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Choice- Dan Heng x fiance!fem!Reader

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Recovery date: May 8th, 2024

Description: I just got an idea, the reader is female, a quiet, humble and kind girl and is engaged to Dan Heng but the readers evil stepmother and half sister along with her neglectful father decided to kidnap them and try to force them to leave Dan Heng but they refused because Dan Heng made them feel like they actually belonged somewhere and they also knew that Dan Heng would save them. This all occurred not long after Dan Heng went to the readers family home with March and Caelus after he officially became engaged to the reader, The reason the three of them were even there was because Dan Heng wanted them to sincerely apologize for all the pain and suffering they put his fiance through. (This was inspired by episode 6 of the Netflix anime My Happy Marriage)

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions.

Word count: 891

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Dan Heng may be quiet, but he’s not opposed to confrontation; a fact that his future in-laws clearly missed even after he explained what he did when they asked. Hell, he would have thought that Caelus would have been enough of a tip off that he did serious work– the man carries a baseball bat and looks like a delinquent, though maybe that’s where he went wrong.

Maybe bringing March as a vouch of character and mediator was a bad idea, maybe it gave Y/n’s parents the wrong idea. Maybe Caelus didn’t make him look serious so much as dangerous.

All he’d wanted was for them to apologize, to let his fiance turn over a new leaf with him.

He did not want this.

He did not want to break down the door of his fiance’s childhood home. It tore off its hinges, flying inwards and startling his future sister-in-law. She jumped back with a yelp, shaking as the Vidyadhara loomed in the doorway.

Perhaps he was taking it a touch too far as he glared down at her, stepping gracefully over the split door.

“Where is she?” His voice was cold and level.

She pointed down a hallway, he was almost worried her arm would rip off with how fast it moved, stumbling over her words. He offered her a stiff nod, and set off, barely catching the heavy sounds of footsteps following behind him.

“Dan Heng,” Caelus gasped, “slo-slow down.”

The Vidyadhara may have considered his friend's words if this situation were any different. Had his in-laws simply decided to harass him and his fiance, maybe bombarded them with cruel messages and calls, he would not have even bothered showing up here. He would have blocked them, and comforted his fiance with sweet words and some of Himeko’s coffee. Maybe they would invite March and Caelus to join them, the archer would surely break out some sweets to enjoy as well. They would make happy memories as a new family. They would move on.

But no, he’d returned to their hotel room to find it trashed. The table was on its side, the items on it scattered about, and the chairs pulled out like someone had grabbed on to them. Y/n’s stuff was gone too, and that was what told him the story. They just wouldn’t let this go.

“You’re wrong!” Y/n’s hoarse voice filled the hallway, and the anger in it encouraged him to pick up the pace.

He reached out, read to wretch another door from its hinges, when he was tackled and pulled back. A partly gloved hand clamped over his mouth as March and Caelus pulled him away from the door.

Before he could snap at them, throw them off and give his future in-laws the fright of their life, Y/n’s voice spoke again.

“You’re wrong… I am happy with him, I’m not just saying that. He listens to me, and my troubles, and doesn’t make me feel like a burden.” Dan Heng stops struggling against his friends. “He makes me want to help him in return. So I’m going back, and you can’t stop me. If you try I’ll…”

There were rapid footsteps and the door flung open.

Y/n looked almost mid sprint, with her mother lunging up from her seat on the floor. Her father wasn’t even present, typical.

“Dan Heng?”

Now that he could see them, there were tear streaks on her face which explained the hoarse voice.

“Hey, Y/n,” Caelus responded, removing his hand from his friend's mouth and waving.

“This is who you want to go back to?” Her mother practically squawked. “This ruffian with his delinquent and side pie-”

“Excuse me!?” March yelled. “Who are you calling a side piece!?”

Caelus reached over from behind Dan Hengg and pulled her back to the floor. That seemed to remind her why they’d really come here and she huffed. March pulled herself up, grabbing Dan Heng’s arm to haul him up too with Caelus ready to grab them both at a moments notice.

Dan Heng noticed the faint curl of Y/n’s lips at March’s outburst. He was glad she seemed okay, but he would have to make double sure later.

“I saw the hotel room,” Dan Heng said, answering her earlier question. “I assumed you would want a ride home.”

“Ya,” she breathed, “I would love a ride home.”

Her mother reached for her wrist, but with a flick of Dan Heng’s wrist she was launched backwards onto her ass by a beam of water. Y/n spared her a quick glance before rushing across the room to her haphazardly packed suitcase, which her mother had packed when she grabbed them, and joined her fiance in the hall.

Y/n and Dan Heng took the lead, walking back to the front door, and brushed past Y/n’s step-sister with Caelus and March close behind.

“Love?”

Dan Heng felt his cheeks heat up at the term of endearment. The road they walked may be rough, but to hear her gentle voice call him love while so full of adoration he would do anything.

“Yes?”

“What happened to the door?”

“Ah… don’t worry about that, must have been a strong breeze.”

“Try a tsunami,” March giggled, making Caelus snicker and earning a glare from Dan Heng.

#researcher s's recovery #honkai star rail #honkai star rail dan heng #hsr dan heng #dan heng #dan heng x reader #x reader #female reader #honkai star rail caelus #hsr caelus #honkai star rail trailblazer #hsr trailblazer #honkai star rail march 7th #hsr march 7th #march 7th #oneshot #hsr oneshot #slight angst with a happy ending

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