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#she's a little dorky dork
sunshinepixels · 1 year
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                           Kathryn “Katie” Arnold (15)
newspaper club | morning show anchor | member of the academic decathlon team 
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green-tea-lemonade · 8 months
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the rules are different if it's the last piece you dummy everybody knows that
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timothylawrence · 4 months
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act one them will always mean so much to me . oh beloveds
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odessastone · 1 year
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Made the mistake of reading through comments on r/Overwatch and apparently a VERY common opinion over there is that Pharah has no personality?? Someone made a post about Kiriko being bland and the top comment, with HUNDREDS of upvotes, was like “Try being a Pharah main. Six years and she doesn’t have one ounce of personality.”
And I’m like… are we talking about the same character here?? The woman who puts up a tough front because she’s lost so many people in her life, who’s struggling to find a purpose because her life dream was shattered, who has a dry sense of humor and likes to be a goofball but feels she has to hide it because people are counting on her to be serious and protect them?
Are we talking about the woman who is pretty clearly struggling with depression (ok maybe that’s just my read but the flat affect and emotionless tone when talking about sore topics like her mother to me reads that way) but convinces herself she’s got to keep getting up and fighting every day anyway, just to make what little good impact she possibly can? Who cares deeply about people but feels like she has to hide it, probably because she assumes they’ll either be killed or she’ll be abandoned again?
Like, all of this is in-game. You don’t have to go looking for it.
What more could she possibly do to show “personality”? Turn directly to the player and say “I want to be silly but I’m too sad inside”?
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fckoffjakegyllenhaal · 2 months
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regina’s puppy (1)
// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //
warnings: mean!regina (not to reader), protective!regina, oblivious/innocent!reader, pinning, mutual pining but reader thinks it’s one-sided, use of “y/n”.
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regina george definitely has a soft spot for you. if you ask her, she’d refer to it as a weak spot; resembling more like an invisible bruise inside of her that only you could see. you’d push and push it, til it bruises some more. until she’d sickly do just about anything you ask. it wasn’t a secret either; regina could be in the middle of being the worst human being on campus, and you’d just walk up to her with those big eyes of yours.
“hey gina!”
“did you see the new shake flavor at sonic? wanna ditch and go?”
“i stayed up all night reading the bell jar!”
regina would shift her undivided attention onto you within a millisecond, and you didn’t even realize it. you were so obliviously innocent. you didn’t have an underlying reason for getting close to the queen bee, you just caught her reading a book one day and started talking her ear off about it. the blonde, who got pure joy out of making girls like you cry, for some reason didn’t have it in her to tell you to fuck off or call you a dork. there was something about you that regina couldn’t quite place; it was something that made her heart flutter in her chest.
maybe it didn’t fully hit regina just how bad she had it for you until junior year. it was the middle of fall, and you had rushed up to her with a pair of sad eyes. “hey gina.” you greet her, but it isn’t your usual eager greeting. regina looks away from the mirror in her locker, looking at you. her brows furrow and a wave of concern washed over her, as she realizes you appear upset. “what’s wrong?” she demands, not even bothering to say hi back. “stacy matthew’s said i can’t be in debate club. she says i’m really nice and that’s not what they’re looking for.” you admit, and regina can feel the rage course through her before she slams her locker shut.
“where the fuck does stacy matthew’s get off telling you that you can or can’t be in debate club? she’s a fucking dork. come on.” she grabs your wrist and your eyes widen, shaking your head in protest but the blonde is already set on giving the raven haired girl a piece of her mind. nobody was going to make you sad and get away with it. “gina it’s okay i—“ you try but regina is already turning down the hallway, making her way up to a random group of students. they all go quiet as soon as regina is near. “where’s matthew’s?” regina questions demandingly, causing one of the students to nearly begin to tremble.
“st-stacy? she’s in the library i think—“ regina doesn’t even let the poor girl finish before she’s dragging you in the direction of the library. you weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you told regina about why you got rejected from the debate club, but this certainly wasn’t it. you weren’t expecting her to storm into the library. “everyone out.” she commands, and just like that, every student in the library is scurrying out. “not you.” the blonde hisses as she glowers at stacy who was in the middle of gathering her belongings. you watch the girl tense up, freezing, and a part of you feels guilty because of how terrified she looks.
“so it’s come to my attention that you think your dorky little debate club is too good for y/n…” regina trails off, and stacy’s eyes widen as her gaze flutters over to you. “don’t look at her for help, look at me.” regina snaps her fingers in stacy’s face; her behavior should cause you to be horrified, yet you can’t deny the heat at the bottom of your belly that comes from watching regina defend you. “it’s not— i didn’t say we were too good, i said she was too nice, regina. you know it too, that’s why you’re here debating for her.” stacy’s comment causes you to look down at your shoes, knowing she isn’t wrong.
“y/n is smarter than you will ever be. her gpa is higher than yours, and she had better exam grades last year. she doesn’t need to be a cunt to debate, she just has to be right… and she always is. you didn’t deny her a spot in your club because she’s too nice. you’re afraid she’s better than you.” regina hits her right where it hurts, and the way stacy’s face morphs into an ugly angry expression causes your eyes to widen. you had actually believed stacy when she said you were too nice for debate club, but now as you watch her react to regina’s accusations, you realize she only said that because she didn’t want you in the club at all.
“i’ll give you the rest of tonight to reconsider giving her a spot on the debate team. if you don’t, i have no control over whether or not the club gets banned… i mean, considering my parents are the ones who fund it.” regina puts on her best falsified sorry expression, and it causes stacy’s eyes to widen at the threat. her eyes lock with yours before regina clasps a hand around your wrist. she drags you out of the library, muttering angrily as she does so. “ugh, the nerve of that fucking bitch.” regina sounds genuinely upset, and you frown.
“you didn’t have to do that…” you whisper, barley being able to find your voice. she comes to a stop, turning around to face you with a deadly serious expression etched onto her features. “i did because you would’ve just let it go. she can’t just act like the queen of debate club; even the cheerleaders started being inclusive!” regina rambles a bit, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling. “yeah but i’m pretty sure debate club is all stacy matthew’s has. it’s fine. i mean, it’s not fine, but it’s clearly more important to her.” you shrug easily and regina huffs in clear frustration.
“that’s exactly why people think you’re too nice! you can’t just let people do or say whatever they want to you, and just let it go! just twelve minutes ago you wanted to cry about it.” regina points out, and you press your lips together. “if i held on to it every time someone upset me, i’d be a really sad person.” you confess lightly, but this does nothing to ease regina’s anger. “well, i’ll hold on to it for you. she’s going in the burn book.” regina mutters the last part, making you a quirk a brow at her. “the burn book?” you question, and she purses her lips tightly, realizing she might have said to much.
“it’s just this thing the girls and i have been working on…” regina’s demeanor shifts, and your brows knit together. “you and the girls? as in gretchen and karen? can i see?” you ask hopefully, and regina shakes her head quickly “no way.” she answers, and as soon as she sees you deflate, a look of disappointment taking over your features, she relents. “it’s not finished yet, and it’s kind of a secret…” she trails off, “i promise i won’t tell anyone! at all! not even riley.” you promise, mentioning your best friend who’s being home schooled this year. regina chews on her bottom lip; she’s well aware the burn book is just a harsh joke her and her friends came up with. but she isn’t sure whether you’d think it’s funny or not.
though regina can’t seem to be able to tell you no. “okay, but most of it was gretchen.” she lies as she begins to lead you towards the exit of the school. karen and gretchen furrow their eyebrows in clear confusion as they watch their best friend leave with you. even though school ended almost half an hour ago, usually regina would opt to hang out with the plastics. sometimes she even just stayed after school to “ogle” the football team during practice. but here regina was, leaving school with you. sure, her friends knew about her weird tolerance of you… but now you were hanging out?
“wait are we going to your house?” you ask uncertainly as you both approach her expensive car. she flashes you a look that says “duh”, “that’s where the book is.” she states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “shouldn’t you call your mom and ask her for permission for me to come over?” you inquire timidly, and although the butterflies in her stomach flutter due to how adorable you are, she rolls her eyes feigning annoyance. “she doesn’t care. get in, loser.” she commands, and you immediately obey; getting into the passenger side.
regina’s car smells like her perfume, and the backseat is messy. “your moms so cool for letting you drive by yourself with just your permit.” you say out loud and regina shrugs, “she’s alright.” she mutters as she hands you her phone. “pick a song.” she insists and your cheeks flush. “o-okay.” the way you stutter causes you to mentally facepalm, but regina finds it hard to stifle a smile at how cute she finds you. you put on a taylor swift song, and she snorts, “so cliche.” she says, her eyes unusually soft, as the sky and your heart does this pathetic little lurch at the sight of her smiling. regina looks so beautiful when she smiles; it almost makes you forget how she almost made stacy matthew’s piss herself a little while ago.
regina’s house is even bigger than you imagined. you knew her family was rich, but you didn’t think they were this wealthy. your eyes are as big as dinner plates as you look around the house. as soon as you walk in you can hear regina’s little sister in the living room; practicing dance routines in front of the tv. “ignore her that’s my sister kylie. everything she does, i did it first.” regina retorts simply, and you raise your brows as you follow her through her house. “hi honey! i made lunch— oh, who’s this?” a woman who you assume is regina’s mom comes out of the kitchen.
she’s wearing tight leggings and a top that barely covers anything. regina grimaces at the sight of her mom, “this is my friend, y/n. we’re gonna be upstairs for awhile. don’t bother us.” she warns harshly, and you offer the older woman a bashful smile. “it’s nice to meet you, mrs. george.” you let out before regina pulls you up the stairs, and towards her room. “your mom seems… nice.” you say as nicely as you can, and she scoffs. “she’s totally embarrassing. she lives vicariously through me.” she deadpans as you both walk into her bedroom.
her room is exactly how you imagined it. it’s pink and girly; there are various posters of celebrities on the walls. her bed was huge. “your room is so cool!” you exclaim, and she tries to fight the grin tugging at her lips. “it’s okay. i’ve been meaning to redecorate it, but i’m gonna make gretchen do it.” regina snickers and you giggle. “that’s mean.” you halfheartedly respond, and she tenses up. she wonders if you’ll laugh that way when you see the burn book. even though you aren’t in it, she isn’t sure if anyone you know is.
“so where’s the book?” you ask curiously as you take a seat on the corner of her bed. regina’s smile falls as she keeps her back to you, she reluctantly disappears into her closet, only to reappear with a big pink book in her hands. your eyes light up as she makes her way over to you, and sits by you. “you have to promise you won’t leave after reading this.” she states stringently, making you pause. you look at her in confusion, “it’s just… this book is like a fucked up version of the year book. we make fun of all the girls from school in it.” she admits hesitantly, and your face falls.
“am… am i in it?” you quietly ask, and regina shakes her head rapidly. “no! no, you’re not.” she promises and you nod. “okay, so why would i get mad?” you question, and regina sighs as she opens the book. you begin to read all of the cruel things her and her friends write about other girls. when you get to the part where regina makes fun of becky martin for getting a bob freshman year, you involuntarily giggle. suddenly there’s this lightbulb that lights up above her head.
“y/n, you should sit with me at lunch tomorrow.” she says, and you tense up, prying your eyes away from the burn book to look at regina. “you mean with you and the plastics?” you ask uncertainly, and regina rolls her eyes. “why does everyone call them that?” she mutters, and you shake your head. “because you’re all perfect like plastic barbie dolls.” you answer simply, and this causes the blonde to quirk her eyebrows to her hairline. “you think gretchen and karen are perfect?” she asks with a scoff, and you nod quickly. “duh! you’re all so… pretty. everyone knows girls like me don’t sit at the “it” table.” you half joke, and regina rolls her eyes.
“i decide who sits at that table, and i’m deciding you’re sitting there with us from now on.” regina stringently states, her tone indicates she’s up for no debates. “we’ll start by giving you a makeover.” she declares, as she gets up. “come on, we’re going to the mall.” she adds, and you throw her an “are you serious” sort of look. “gina… i really don’t think that’s a good idea.” you try, but she pulls you off the bed, and onto your feet. “i’m already picturing how cute you’d look in bellbottoms.” she says, as she drags you out of her bedroom, the burn book long forgotten.
“i can’t buy bellbottoms! they’re like forty bucks a pair!” you stress, as regina leads you down the stairs, never once letting go of your hand. “i have my dads card, relax.” she assures you easily, and you frown, but don’t protest. you know better than to try and argue with regina, especially when you’d let her get away with anything and you think she knows it.
regina ends up spending over four hundred dollars on you, much to your dismay. no matter how much you protest, or try to secretly put items back, she was hellbent on giving you a makeover. thankfully regina claimed you had flawless features that didn’t need makeup, so you avoided the makeup stores altogether. when regina drops you off at your house, you have a hand full of shopping bags and you have to rush to your room in secrecy. fortunately your brothers are too transfixed with some horror video game, and your older sister was nowhere to be seen.
as soon as you’re in the privacy of your bedroom, you let out a little breath. today was the strangest day ever. you were used to your strange friendship with regina, but it was usually only a few meaningful conversations here and there. regina george was never full on “queen bee” around you for some reason, but she had never defended you like she did today. a part of you felt bad about telling regina what stacy did, but the way the blonde threatened the debate teams captain for you made your heart flutter.
tomorrow you were having lunch with regina and “the plastics”; you had to pick an outfit before you went to sleep which was out of the ordinary for you. you’ve never been the type to get ready for school, but there’s this insistent need to impress regina that you suddenly have. the way she ogled you when you had tried on the out of character outfits made your stomach tingle. the nerves in your body only increase as you think about it. as you stare at the various shopping bags, you know there’s no going back now; you feel indebted to regina george.
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joelsmochi · 3 months
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honey ♡ joel miller
rating: E 18+ only pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: joel is obviously beekeeping age warnings: not proofread, no outbreak, best friends dad!joel, soft!joel, unspecified 30+ year age gap, a hint unrealistic in the sense that sarah doesn’t care, lots of bee science, mentions of bees/bee stings (ouch), honey play (i had to), fingering, f receiving oral, kitchen sex, pet names, plenty of dirty talk (mhm yes yum) a/n: i totally didn’t google bee sex for like an hour just to be accurate… nope… no i didn’t. lol enjoy & happy valentines day ;)
“Which eyeshadow should I use?”
You looked at the small, black palette and its array of choices before telling Sarah, “Purple, it goes great with green dresses.”
Sarah began to brush the product onto her eyelids while she talked about her plans for tonight with her boyfriend, Alex; her voice became white noise as you caught a glimpse of her father in the backyard working on something.
“Your dad’s a beekeeper, right?” You asked without realizing you interrupted her.
“Uh… Yeah?”
“Cool… How’d he get into that? Doesn’t seem like the type to… Save bees?”
“What do you mean?” She mumbled beneath her working hand.
Shrugging, you tried to keep your expression and tone neutral. “Aren’t beekeepers usually a bit dorky?”
“My dad is a dork.”
“I mean, not really,” you chuckled, watching the man pull out the different trays and examine them. “It’s cute, your dad keeping bees… How old is he again?”
Sarah only rolled her eyes.
“He’s definitely beekeeping age,” you continued. “Kinda sweet. Him caring for a colony of bees in your backyard.”
Your best friend was now looking at you look at her father—correction: you were ogling him. Your attempts at seeming unbothered by his looks failed. Sarah always said you wore your heart on your forehead sometimes.
You just couldn’t help it; Joel was tall and big and broad and… Older. He wore a tough exterior, one that always intimidated you, but now you see him tending to bees. The man was a softie at heart, not to mention insanely hot.
His skin tanned even deeper from the long hours of being in the sun, and his forehead littered with droplets of sweat. Was it so wrong to think about Joel f—
“Sarah, I wanna fuck your d—“
“Oh, really?”
You shrugged and sat down on her bed. “Can you blame me?! He’s like… Twenty times hotter than the guys our age.”
“He’s also twenty times your age,” she spat.
“Doesn’t he have a brother?” You shamelessly asked.
She scoffed and looked at you in disbelief. “Yeah, who’s married and has three kids.”
You groaned softly. “Bummer.”
“You have a fucking insane sex drive, you know?”
“Ugh, tell me about it,” you whined, “It’s making me masturbate more than I’d like.”
“You know what, if you wanna make the bold attempt to fuck my fifty year old dad then you have my blessing,” she sarcastically told you.
You simply raised an eyebrow and stared at her shit-eating grin, waiting for her to tell you she was joking. “Don’t bullshit me, Sarah, ‘cause you know I will.”
“Ah—la la la la la! I am not—I am not listening to it anymore. Get it out of your system before I take it back.”
You pretended to lock your lips and throw the key away as she got back on her boyfriend, but all you could think about was her dad.
You waited for Sarah’s boyfriend’s car to leave the driveway before shakily fixing your hair and lip gloss, then you walked into the backyard with eyes set on the man and his work.
“Mr. Miller,” you called once you were a few feet away from him.
He looked up for a split second and motioned his head as a greeting, saying your name in response.
“Bees?”
“Yes, ma’am. Somethin’ I can help you with?”
Shrugging, you walked a little closer but kept your distance fearing a bee sting. “Maybe.”
He lifted a panel up and briefly examined it until he noticed the lingering silence. His dark eyes locked with yours and he sensed your hesitation. “You allergic?”
You only shook your head.
“They’re calm if you are.”
I am so not fucking calm right now, you thought.
“C’mere darlin’. I’ll show ya.”
He used his index and middle finger to beckon you, and you instantly fixated on why you were there in the first place.
You made the daring move to take a few more steps, ears coaxed by the hum of the colony.
“They usually only sting if you annoy them, or smell like a flower.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t spray floral perfume on my shirt this morning,” you joked.
He almost laughed as the bees didn’t seem to care for you so far. “Honeybees really don’t want to sting you.”
“‘Cause it kills ‘em, right?”
Nodding, Joel says, “Exactly. Their number one goal is to protect the queen. Second is to survive whatever threats they face.”
“How’d you get into this kinda stuff?” You asked.
You were trying to find some way to bring up your question without being sudden or rude, though beekeeping didn’t seem like a helpful topic.
“When Sarah was little she used to get a lot of rashes and she had some bad allergies. That over the counter medicine didn’t help, but honey helped. The natural shit— stuff they sell at the store… Well, it gets expensive. And I didn’t have as good a job as I do now... So I figured I’d give it a go and make my own honey.“
“That’s sweet of you. My dad always had me tough it out,” you chuckled.
“I have plenty stashed away in the kitchen. You’re welcome to take some,” he offered. “Hey, what was it you needed?”
“Oh, uh.” You pursed your lips unsure of whether or not you should lie. “Well, I have this sort of… Itch.”
“Itch? It’s not an STD is it, ‘cause I don’t think honey can help with that.”
You knew it was a deadpan joke but the tension had your face stuck in a scrunch.
“No. Not an STD,” you answered. “I just, uh… I really like you, I guess.”
“I hope so, you’ve been eating up half my groceries for the past twenty somethin’ years.”
Idiot.
“No, I mean…” You realized you wouldn’t be able to ask him. “Never mind, uh. Just forget it.”
He watched you turn and begin walking away before it dawned on him. “Oh!”
You faced him again, scratching your head and giving him a nervous look. “Yeah, like I said: forget it. We can just pretend I never asked—“
“Come here,” he said, adjusting his jeans and walking to the other side of the apiary. “Wanna show ya somethin’.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting your stress response of fleeing the scene and standing beside him again.
“Do you know why bees are so loyal to their queen?” He asked after pulling a panel out to show you.
“Mnh-mnh.”
“The queen is the only bee in the entire hive that can produce more bees. Again, a bee’s second main goal is to preserve the life of their species. The queen produces pheromones that calm the bees down and keep the structure within the colony. Drone bees are male bees that really only exist to mate with the queen when she’s a virgin and out of the hive. Worker bees are females that aren’t the queen, but they’re very nurturing. Especially to the queen because she’s the one in charge.”
“Ahh, a matriarchy. Count me in,” you giggled.
Joel chuckled and pulled a switchblade out of his pocket before forcing the blade to whip out. “Do you know how bees mate?”
His voice sounded a little more quiet, and his eyes met yours with curiosity. You shook your head and waited for him to explain.
“When a new queen is selected, she goes out just one time to find a group of drones who will essentially take her virginity. And drones have an endophallus so after they ejaculate into her, their insides are ripped out and the drone dies. When a new drone comes up to mate with the queen, he removes the last guy’s endophallus and does the same thing. Mate with her… And die. She can mate with about ten or twenty different drones before flying back to the hive and laying eggs.”
“So the drones’ only purpose is to mate with a queen?” You asked.
He began cutting away a small piece of the wax, and the honey trickled down slowly.
“It’s the only reason he lives,” Joel muttered. You watched his thick fingers scoop up the liquid gold and he raised them to your lips. “He waits… And waits… And waits… For the right queen to come along.”
He smirked at your amused expression.
“Are you trying to seduce me by telling me the sexual nature of bees?”
He softly shook his head and glanced at your shiny lips. “Not trying to seduce you. Just tellin’ you what most men really want.”
Exhaling, you tried to ignore his fingers lingering in front of your face. The sickly sweet smell of honey filled your nostrils as his words echoed inside of your head.
“Go on,” he whispered, “have a taste.”
It took you a few extra seconds to build up the confidence in order to take him on his dare, but you made sure you did it as slowly as possible.
Your lips parted and he immediately felt your warm breath flow over his fingers; instinctively, your tongue darted out to catch a drop of the honey before it fell to the ground. Then you wrapped your lips around his digits, softly moaning at the sweet tasting nectar that coated his wood scented fingers.
WIth steady eyes you watch his brown orbs darken with lust, hearing him let out a huff and seeing the muscles in his face relax as if your slick tongue gave him the satisfaction he’d been seeking for a long time.
You swirled your tongue around, persisted to taste every last drop. The thickness coated your throat while you desperately wanted it to be something other than honey.
Your lips left his hand with a wet pop that prompted him to lick whatever saliva and honey remained on his fingers.
“Tastes good.”
“Just good?”
“Tastes delicious,” you corrected.
He let out a soft chuckle and put the wood panel back in its place.
“Sarah know you’re out here?”
After rolling your eyes and smirking you said, “She doesn’t need to know. Actually quite sure she wouldn’t want to know. Besides, Alex just picked her up, so.”
“So we’re all alone,” he finished.
“I’m gonna go get some of that honey you were talking about. Though I might need your help finding the right cabinet.”
He watched you walk back into the house before following you; once inside he saw you reaching into a cabinet in the corner, but a big red bruise on your arm caught his attention.
Joel walked over to you and grabbed your arm. Confused, you tried to see what he was looking at to no avail.
“You got stung right here,” he said as if he read your mind. He started walking over to the correct cabinet.
Frowning, you lifted your arm before spotting the bump. “Weird. Didn’t even feel it.”
“S’normal,” he muttered.
He stepped in front you to lift you up underneath your arms and sit you on top of the kitchen island.
You carefully watched as he opened up a sealed mason jar and stood between your legs.
“Mmkay. Lift your arm up.”
You did as he told and tried not to grimace while he scraped the stinger out. Honestly you didn’t have to try too hard; he looked so good like this, taking good care of you. Focused and confident like he’d done this a million times. You were certain he had.
He dipped a finger into the jar and swiped a little honey over the bump, carefully rubbing it in and drifting his gaze to your eyes.
“Helps the itch,” he spoke. “You said you had one, right?”
“Think I’ve got a bigger itch,” you replied.
“Hmm. Where at?”
Biting your bottom lip you trailed a finger over your neck, finding your sweet spot and rubbing a small circle over it. “Here.”
Joel rubbed a some honey on your neck and lapped it up like a thirsty dog. He held back on sucking the skin, mindful that you might not be fond of hickeys.
“I get it?” His voice strained.
You hummed. “No… No it’s went down a little bit. Tryyy… Here.”
Your clavicle.
More honey. More licking.
“How ‘bout now?”
You took your shirt off revealing your breasts. “Try here, and here.”
Your breath shook when the cold liquid was smeared over your hardened nipples. Once he took the first one into his mouth you let a desperate breath and held the curve of his head in your palm, letting him have his way with your tits.
“Nope, still there,” you spoke once he pulled away.
His fingers found the button on your shorts, then the zipper.
“Damn itches,” he said, “they’re always so damn stubborn. Ain’t that right? S’okay. Think I have a remedy for that.”
Just like that your shorts and panties were off and his fingers scooped up some more honey—more than what was necessary for anything.
He bent down to your glistening pussy and lazily rubbed the honey all over. You’d be lying if you said that alone didn’t make that knot inside of you twist harder.
Joel’s tongue eagerly met your clit, and he didn’t bother wasting anymore time with teasing you. A gurgling moan left his mouth once he tasted your juices mixing with the honey, creating the perfect elixir for his tastebuds.
Your legs clamped around his head reactively but he was strong enough to force them apart and keep them open.
Whilst he sucked and pulled and lapped around your clit, your hands were reaching, searching for anything to grasp. As a result you ended up knocking over the jar and spilling its contents, but you were too dazed to give a fuck.
Somewhat annoyed with you flailing around like you’d never been eaten out before, Joel smacked the back of your thigh. You shuddered and calmed your body down, settling with pulling on his hair relentlessly since the force of his smack stung a little.
He preferred it that way; take your tension out on him. Make him hurt if it meant you felt good. It only stroked his ego.
His tongue slipped between your pussy lips and slurped up whatever it could, the vibrations making you cry out his name. He did it again and again and again and again and a-fucking-gain until he was certain you were screaming from an orgasm.
Joel moaned at your thick cum pouring out of your cunt and down his sticky chin, drinking up anything he wasn’t missing.
He only stopped when he figured you’d had enough and stood eye level with you while fumbling with his belt buckle.
“I think that itch got a little deeper now,” he cockily said, “wouldn’t you say?”
Your eyes were wide, pupils nearly blown, mouth agape, and chest heaving. “I think you can reach it just fine, Joel.”
Holding back a boastful laugh, he lined his erection up with your soft entrance and slid inside carefully.
“So pretty,” he whispered, “you look so fucking pretty like this, baby.”
You pulled his face in for a sloppy kiss, happily tasting the mixture of you and his honey. He noticed your hand was tacky from the spill and stuck a few fingers into his mouth, spreading the stickiness anywhere he could get it.
“Your cock,” you moaned into his chin. “So big.”
“It’s all yours, princess,” he moaned.
His hips pulled back and then snapped back into yours; his tip pressing into the deepest part of your pussy.
“Fuck. You get so fucking deep,” he praised. “S’it feel good, baby?”
“Yes,” you said against your will. “Oh my God, just like tha—fuck!”
Joel fucked you just the way you liked: fast, but not sloppily or too hard. He watched his cock disappear into you a dozen times, and he grew harder than he ever had before.
“You look so pretty with my cock inside. Such a dirty fucking girl,” he shouted over your moans. “You take it so well, baby.”
Joel felt the his orgasm begin to arrive so he pulled out and took a step back; you whined a bit and reached for him but you were already so sore.
Meanwhile he just undressed himself and laid you down on the marble countertop, climbing on top of you not long after.
“I hear you, baby,” he cooed. “You don’t need to beg… I’m gon’ take real good care a’you.”
You lazily smiled and wrapped your legs around his broad waist.
“There you go,” he whispered against your lips as he slid back into you, hearing your whines turn into moans. “There you go, sweetheart. I got you.”
He returned back to his original pace, only his hips thrusted harder into you. You felt every curve and vein along his cock, every inch he gave to you.
Your nails clawed at his back and feet dug into his hips. You reached for him in any way you could. His lips danced with yours as you drank each other’s honey-coated moans.
“Joel, fuck. Oh, Joel I’m gonna cum,” you admitted.
He felt your back arch off of the counter as if your tone was indicating enough.
“I know, baby, I know. You’re doing so well. I got you, I got you. Need you to look at me, darlin’, can you do that? Can ya look at me with those pretty eyes when you cum?”
You struggled to open your eyes, wanting to wilt up at the intensity building inside of you. But once you saw his eyes again you were hooked.
“Good girl,” he chuckled, wearing the proudest grin imaginable. “Doing such a good job, let it out sweetie. You can cum.”
“I’m cu—oh!”
“I know, babygirl. I can feel it. Let it out for me. Let it out for daddy.”
He watched and held you as you writhed from your orgasm; your skin was on fire, stomach fluttering with elation.
Joel loved the sound of your voice calling his name, so precious and shameless. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to make you his own, even if it had to be temporarily.
“Cum inside me,” you breathed out, feeling overstimulated and overstretched. “Need you to—ah.“
He leaned down for another kiss just when he began to cum inside, a feeling so raw and deep he hadn’t felt in years. He forgot how fucking good it felt, and savored it by pushing through every painful bit of the overstimulation.
Joel gave you a few more soft kisses and slowly got off of the island. He ran a hand over your thighs and watched you come down from your high.
“My hair is covered in honey,” you giggled.
“Let’s go wash you up. Maybe we can find a few more itches to scratch.”
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reidsdaisies · 3 days
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𝐀𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞
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༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x gn!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; spencer just looks too irresistible in those damned short-shorts. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; horrific ‘banter’ (reader is just a tease), sub!spencer, handjob. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 0.8k
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𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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“Dork,” you snort.
“What!” Spencer practically squeaks, spinning back around to look at himself in the full length mirror.
“Nothing’s wrong with it.. you just look like a dork.” You laugh again, using your elbows to sit yourself up against your pillow. “Where’d you go to get that outfit anyway?”
“Well, Morgan suggested a place that sells workout clothes, and so I kind of may have bought an outfit from the first mannequin I saw. But I think I picked well. I read that wearing a sweatshirt while working out can help with warming up, lead to an increase in blood flow, and can reduce my risk of injury.” He rambles off, working on fitting a sweatband around his forehead.
“You think you’re going to get injured?”
“Well, I have been trying to be more purposeful with working out, but by the end I always feel lightheaded, though that’s to be expected. And, you never know, I may trip and fall on my face. It happens even when I’m not working out. The sweatshirt could cushion me.” He shrugs, turning back around to face you. “Less dorky or more dorky with the sweatband?”
“Definitely more dorky.. but also adorable. It’s very much adorkable, and very much what you’d wear when working out.” You giggle, moving over to the edge of the bed.
Spencer finds himself moving closer towards you, standing right infront of where you sit criss-crossed on the comforter.
“One day that’s going to get old, (y/n).”
“No, one day you’re going to get old and you’ll still be an adorable little dork.” He just huffs, rolling his eyes, but you catch the little smirk before it’s too late. The playful glint in your eye shimmers, and if you were a cartoon character, there would be a giant bright lightbulb over your head. Your hands naturally found their way to his hips, resting against the blue material of his shorts. “..these really are short, aren’t they?”
He gulped, watching with intent as you slide your hands a few inches down from his hips, reaching his bare thighs in less than a second.
“What are you doing, (y/n)?” He breathes out, almost sounding like he’s panting.
“Helping you with your pre-workout stretch..” you mutter, slipping a hand past the waistband of his shorts.
“You’re supposed to stretch your legs before a workout not—“ he chokes on his words, getting them caught in his throat as soon as your hand cups his length, giving it a tug. “that.” He shakily squeaks his last word. You chuckle.
“Are you always this hard before your workouts, Dr. Reid?” You taunt him, hand moving up and down his erection, thumb swiping across his already leaking tip.
“N-no you, y-you, um,” he tries to speak but he can’t get the words right, stumbling over them. You stroke him leisurely, making a show out of sighing and rolling your eyes to the side, not even looking at him as you stay sitting on your knees on the bed before him, getting him off with just your hand. “(Y-y/n),” he stutters in an attempt to get your attention back on his face. He lets out an unabashed moan, sounding downright sinful.
“God,” he groans as your pace picks up the slightest bit. His droopy gaze follows yours, landing on the wall clock.
“What time did you say she was picking you up?”
“Te— oh fuck, ten thirty!” He exclaims, hips bucking forward into your hand as you touch him just right, paying good attention to the man’s balls.
“Hmm,” you hum, thinking carefully about the next step in your plan to absolutely destroy this man. You turn your head back towards him, using your free hand that was squishing and digging into his thigh to push his shorts and underwear down, letting them drop on their own and pool around his ankles. “How many times do you think you can cum in 20 minutes?”
“No, no (y/n).” He protests, shaking his head, but his dick betrays him, twitching in your hold. His hand moves down his body, resting over yours, being moved up and down along with yours with each hasty stroke you deal to his cock.
With warning, a warm, white liquid spurts from his tip, an angry shade of red. His cum drips down your hand as well as his own, making a complete mess of them. He grunts and whimpers through the whole process, the bucking movement of his hips accelerating before slowing down to a stop.
You grin up at him mischievously and in return he just lets out a huff, his mouth hanging open and eyes continuing to droop low. His face looks exhausted, but his cock still looks like it has some kick left in it.
“You want me to do it again—“ he cuts you off, nodding furiously. “Y-yeah, again, please, we have the time,” he whimpers, sounding like a mix of excitement and defeatment.
“Adorkable,” you laugh, speaking in a sing-songy manner.
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cutecatlov3r · 9 months
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my character ai bots:
jjk:
gojo satoru:
his eyes r funny looking- now, you were laughing your ass off due to the fact that he took off his blindfold during a mission with a curse. you couldn’t help but laugh because he looked so stupidly serious.
wardrobe malfunction- as you walked out he stifled a laugh. “what the hell are ya wearin’?”
he’s annoying- he is so annoying. even in highschool he was unbearable to be around. you hated his annoying ass. but he loved being around you.
vampire au- “oh? the little princess is out of her kingdom? wanted to see me huh?” he teased, looking at her as she hangs upside down.
can’t get enough of him- you and gojo have been on and off since highschool. it’s like everytime you both break up you both just can’t get enough of each other…
your affair- even if you were married he still didn’t care. his feelings for you are deep. he loves you. no matter how many times you tell him you have to stop the little affair going on between you two, he simply doesn’t care
geto suguru:
dad’s best friend- “gonna be quiet like a good girl? or show your dad that you’re just a very bad girl?” he whispered in your ear. his voice deep and quiet, sending chills down your spine.
nanami kento:
healing ur daddy issues- “how’s my baby girl doing today hm?” he pat his lap, gently. “come here, sit.”
yu haibara:
he’s gone- “i’ll be back! don’t miss me too much!” he cheekily smiled. that damn smile… that would be the last time you’d ever see it again.
he’s sick- he coughs and pouts as he lays in his dorm room bed. he was squirming around, sweating and throwing his covers off him. he was currently sick, he was missing a mission that he wanted to go on so badly
he admires you- you disliked him because he followed you around like a lost puppy… he admired you, an upperclassman.
yuji itadori:
he’s delulu- meeting Itadori you didn’t expect him to be so clingy and so sweet to you. little did you know he has a huge crush on you, he is a bit obsessive but he doesn’t let you know that.
your parents hate him- the thing about him is that he is sometimes a bit dumb? he just doesn’t seem like a professional person so when your parents met him, they didn’t like him at all. but that never stopped you from loving him or the other way around
dorky best friend- currently though the two of you were on a mission, sharing a hotel room. he was in a white robe, swirling a glass of wine being dramatic. it was his first time wearing a robe and he wanted to be fancy, be in the moment like a dork.
shibuya arc- “im nothing but a murderer! i can’t forgive myself!” he cried. you stood there looking down at him. sukuna only took over his body for a minute and a lot things happened.
best boyfriend- currently, he was resting between your thighs as you both watch a movie, he used his arms to squish himself against his face some more. “i wouldn’t mind dying from suffocation if it’s with these”
gossiping w him- “HUH?! i need to hear about this, spill everything.” he said in a dramatic tone, joking.
captain of the football team-“hey, you comin’ to my game tonight? last one of the season, I need my lucky charm there to cheer for me.” he giggled, turning you around to face him, your back pressed against your locker.
older brother’s best friend- you were drunk off your ass at some party. yuji spotted you and immediately got on his feet to help you as you stumbled around. “are you okay? megumi is gonna kill you… I’ll get you home”
your his mentor- haibara and yuji had so many similarities. it hurt you to just look at yuji’s smile, being reminded of haibara who died back in your teenage years
he’s in love w you but you already have a boyfriend- yuji is no homewrecker but… currently you’ve stumbled on top of him while training him… he can’t help but think about how Yuta doesn’t deserve you. how Yuta is connected to the woman you used to be.
megumi fushiguro:
step brother- “tch. what the hell are you looking at?” he asked, scaring a guy that had his eyes on you.
yuta okkotsu:
he chose geto’s side- the day he met Geto he was nervous. Geto explained why he wants to kill everyone who isn’t a sorcerer. at the time he declined the offer to join him but later on he rethought his decision. he thought about his past. he left with Geto.
he likes when you hurt him- the two of you brawled for a bit, ending up with your knee on his back, pinning him down. one hand gripping his hair, the other hand pinning down his hand.
your a fan- gojo-sensei took you with him to greet the sorcerer that you’ve heard so much about. he was coming back from training abroad in Africa. you were excited.
helping the newbie- “hey not to be rude but do you not like me…? i feel the tension between us…” he mumbled, frowning slightly.
your other half- right now you both were walking together. he had something important to tell you, he was gonna be training in Africa in a few weeks. gojo-sensei told him he should tell you but he’s just been nervous
inumaki toge:
hajime kashimo:
noritoshi kamo:
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guys I will be adding more soon, please leave some suggestions tho ! <3
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gyqru · 4 months
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god ethan is such a loser bf with his floppy sweaters and curly hair and indie movies and lego sets and grrrrr i just wanna eat him
my godddffff nonnie he’s such a dorky little guy, it hurts how nerdy he is. like i just want to butter him up, preheat my oven to 350 and bake him. he’s such a loser i love it. (besides killing people, ethan is just a silly guy who wears polo shirts)
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ethan! is the type to reference or quote movies he's watched, asking if you've seen whatever movie he's referenced—gasping dramatically when you say no, you haven't seen that movie.
ethan! would then force you to watch whatever movie you said you haven't watched, explaining the lore behind every scene and plot; accidentally spoiling it for you at the end.
ethan! who may have a small hoarding problem, fills his room with movie posters, action figures, and props from his favorite movies/shows. in a corner of his shelves, he has a section dedicated to you—every gift you've given him and some things he's stolen from you himself.
ethan! lets you ransack his closet whenever it starts getting cold outside, having the best sweaters for seemingly every occasion.
ethan! listens to "super long old-timey" music (your words, not his) and makes you dance to them in his bedroom, playing bowie, queen, foo fighters, beatles, etc., whenever he gets the aux.
ethan! really doesn't know how to take care of his curly hair, so it gets messy quickly. every morning, he waits for you to finish getting ready so he can let you do his hair for him.
ethan! is the type of guy to call himself spider-man and text you in the middle of the night that he's saving the city and can't come over. (he was at your door moments after sending that message.)
ethan! doesn't care if you suck at building legos and get frustrated easily when you can't figure out how to read the instructions. secretly, he loves watching you get frustrated; he finds it cute how your eyebrows knit together, and you scrunch your nose trying so hard to concentrate.
ethan! who will force you to dress up as random characters from his favorite movies for halloween. he doesn't care how niche the costumes are or if people will know who the two of you are dressed up as.
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ALICE TALKS 🐰
some cute little headcannons for dork! ethan. tbh a lot of these are like things i’ve actually experienced myself. my friend is someone who’s super nerdy and acts like this 😭 she listens to alot of old music and stuff (i am the one who calls her music taste “long old timey music” as a joke) so i just referenced some memories ive had with her.
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vacayisland · 5 months
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Alright I’m giving ya three request- you can do one, all, none- doesn’t matter lol. I’m just obsessed with trolls
Clay x Nerdy! Troll! Reader
Aight, now this reader met Clay while he arrived in Putt Putt village. (Your choice for gender) They are a complete dork, clumsy, always excited to do serious stuff. But also a little insecure knowing they can get a little out of hand with overthinking/overexcitement
@!; You're my "hole-in-one" Clay / Nerdy! Troll! Reader
"Summary"! Clay meets someone who can finally keep up with him and his... outlandish ways in helping Viva run Putt Putt village. Some could say it's a match made in heaven. He says it was simply his "lucky stroke". "Tags"! literally one too many golf puns (only in the title and summary), Clay and Reader being dorky together, literally just fluff, maybe a little hurt but then fluffed out!
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@!; You had been one of the trolls that came to the Putt Putt village with Viva; having gotten trapped in the tunnels as they collapsed, there was no where else to go other than with the Princess. It was a small populace when you all found the abandoned gulf course and decided to call it home. And though your numbers slowly grew, it would be years before an outside Troll would come across the Village. "Did you hear?" You woke up one morning to the sounds of murmuring in the street, trolls glancing around at each other in a skeptical manner. Whispering like a Bergen was on the brink of finding the village. "I didn't think any Pop troll would come out this far!" Whispered another Troll nearby as you tried to catch what everyone was saying. It was harder to do so here, as everyone was slightly more weary and reserved than normal Pop Trolls. "And nevertheless ask to stay in our village..." There was a beat, "What if he's spying for the Bergens? What if the Bergens found everyone again and there was some sort of agreement made?" "Do you really think the King would do something like that?" All the rumors were a little insane, you had to admit. Most were logical, sensible and reasonable. Others just made you scrunch your nose and turn away; questioning if people could really think that way. Either way, all you knew is that you had to meet this new Troll! You doubted they could be a spy, as the Pop Trolls didn't exactly know where the others in the tunnels went... or even knew if we had survived. So the most logical answer is that they just happened to stumble onto this village without realizing who inhabited it. So, they shouldn't mean any harm.
@!; In the long run, you had been right! Clay didn't mean any sort of harm. In fact, Viva seemed rather excited to welcome him into the village with open arms and a big smile. It put most of the other Trolls in the village at ease seeing Viva deeming the newcomer as friendly, and saw no reason to draw any sort of suspicion onto him. You met Clay later than you wanted, a few weeks into his stay at the village. In fact, you had to be introduced to Clay for the two of you to even meet. "Oooh, (Y/N)!" Viva's voice carried through the small 'serious' office you had made yourself. Viva had always been the outgoing one, the social one; the one who everyone would turn to because she knew what to say or do and how to make everyone feel better! You were the brains behind it all, at least before Clay got introduced. You ran the logics of every outing and reconstruction of buildings. You made sure the food supply would last and that any part or sing-out wouldn't be heard by anyone nearby. You ran everything in the background that allowed everyone to be safe and you did so not because you were told... but because you genuinely enjoyed it. Filling papers, sorting folders, punching in numbers, thinking over statistics and finding out that hidden number! Oh it could make you happier than singing any sort of song; Pop, Country, Funk or any other genre. Many Trolls didn't get it, your love for crunching numbers. They would rather sing and socialize, but you didn't need their approval. You had your happy place within numbers and the smell of vanilla folders and they had there's outside handing and whatnot. Which is why when Viva said the new Troll, Clay, wanted to come help work in the office, you were shocked! "You want to help me?" Dumbfounded, even, as you started at the door while helplessly pointing at yourself. Viva couldn't help but giggle as your look, your jaw at the ground, as Clay shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Yeah." He seemed a little nervous, "Of course, if that's okay with you. I wouldn't want to encroach-" "Encroach?" You voice suddenly boomed, now to Clay's shock. "Encroach?! I've always been looking for someone to help me here! It gets a little lonely sometimes-.. My friend, as long as you can crunch numbers and be okay with sorting vanilla folders by month and year and preforming probability equations with me you can saw we're already more than partners!" Clay let out a surprised yell as you rushed over and hugging him. Viva let out another bit of laughter, always getting a kick of seeing you so excited. "We're practically friends! Maybe best friends- wait. Wait! Too soon, ah I'm so sorry." Clay's feet hit the floor again with a small thump as you backed away from Viva and him. "Where are my manners, I'm sorry, I-" "Don't get turned off by them Clay. They're just very excited about their job." Viva tried to explain, watching as you had stumbled over your feet while backing away from the two; bumping into your desk and knocking over papers and pencils and pens. Clay couldn't help but feel all his nerves leave him at once. He had a feeling you both would get along just great.
@!; From that day on, you worked along side Clay behind the scene for Viva and the village. Not many Trolls understood what drew you two to the more slow paced life, but you found comfort in each other's understanding. Now, after some time, Clay knew about your habits to get over excited about your job; he found it both endearing and a little cute. Such as he came back from checking the economic logistics about rebuilding a building to find you hard at work at your desk. You were scribbling down letters in a hurry, scratching out numbers that didn't work and rewriting numbers in an effort to get the correct answer. There was already a pile of paper in the trash beside you. Clay wasn't sure if it was the oh-so determined look on your face that caused him to stop and watch, his clipboard still in hand, or the way your effortlessly calculated numbering in your head. The way your eyebrows furrowed every time you got the incorrect answer. The way you crumpled up a paper with rage and tossed it off to the side before returning to work with it all gone. It just drew Clay in for some reason and he couldn't understand it. You just had such and odd effect to him he hasn't felt before. "Ah! FINALLY!" Your shout snapped him out of his thoughts as you shot up from your chair like a rocket; causing the chair to lose balance and tumble down, crashing onto the floor and scaring you. Flustered, you rushed to pick up the chair. You didn't notice Clay until he started chuckling besides you, "Finally got the right number there?" It was a tease, a light jab from Clay. Though he didn't expect your sudden acknowledgement of his presence would cause the chair to go tumbling again. "Are you..?" As amusing your overexcitement could be, paired with how flustered you got afterwards, Clay was kind of concerned about the chair. And you. He was also concerned about you. "Yes! I'm good. I'm good.." You fiddled with your fingers, a dorky yet embarrassed smile spread cross your face as your eyes darted from Clay to the paper on your desk. "I just-..." You stopped yourself, chewing at the corner of your lip. "Go on, what happened?" Though Clay encouraged you, not bothered by your excited nature and your clumsy tendencies. "Ah! Okay!" There was that brighter smile Clay always adored on you, "So while you were gone I opened a request from Viva, and at first I thought it was going to be something like checking the speakers or the mechanics on the clown to see how long they'll take before rusting. But actually it was one of my favorite jobs! "Viva asked me, ME! To calculate how long we could all survive on the supplies we have here before there needed to be some sort of expedition for supplies." Clay didn't mind the way your voice bounced with such a lively tone, or the way you dancing on the tips of your toes with excitement, or how you jumped up and down while shaking your hands as you couldn't contain all the emotions bursting inside you. To Clay, that's what made you, well you! And he wouldn't change anything about you.
@!; Clay never thought he would find a day, though, where you would be doubting yourself this bad. He had gone out to take a five minute break from the office, leaving you to work in relative peace and silence. He only needed a stretch, some fresh air, and then he would be right back. It had only been five minutes, at least Clay thought it had. He guessed he did stop and talk to Viva about some projects, along with light chatter and making lunch plans with the three of them. It surely hadn't been that long!... or maybe it had. Clay found you holding the edge of your desk and gripping your pencil as though your life depended on it. Sure he knew you overthought a lot, as it was usually a reason why you got so overexcited when you get something right and prove yourself wrong. Yet he's never seen you like.. this. On the brink of tears, sitting on the edge of your seat, breath slightly ragged as you tried to calm it, looking down at the paper like you had lost all sort of hope and had failed everyone and they were long gone and eaten. it scared him. It really did. He didn't know what to do for a moment, and he later kicked himself in the ass for standing there and watching you struggle for so long, only rushing to your side when you fell off your chair. "(Y/N)! Hey! Hey, what's wrong?!" Clay rushed to your side, sliding to his knees to be right next to you and your shaking figure. He was terrified, but he needed to be strong for you in this moment. You weren't responding and Clay tried his best to remain as calm as he could. Slowly he reached his hands out, cupping over your hand that held a death grip on a pen. He tried slowly loosening your hold, carefully getting you to drop the pen you were holding onto the floor. He spoke softly to you while he did this, trying to get your mind to ground itself back to Earth, working on getting you to let go of the desk next. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I promise it's okay." Clay wasn't sure if you even heard him at this moment, yet he was going to do all it took to calm you down; you didn't deserve to hurt yourself like this. "I promise everything is okay. Whatever happened, whatever you're thinking, it's all okay. You're okay, the village is okay, there's nothing you cannot do..." Clay managed to break your hold from the desk and moved to hug you, tightly and securely. He continued to try and comfort you, bring you any sort of relief from whatever pain you were causing yourself. It was a while before he felt you wrap your arms around him, slowly hiding your head into his shoulder as you began to sob. It broke Clay's heart to hear you sob. It broke Clay more when your body began to tremble as you couldn't even begin to explain what you were feeling. You held so many big emotions for a Troll, Clay knew that all too well, and sometimes those big emotions were horrible and nasty and infesting. Clay wished he could protect you from those emotions, but logistically knew he couldn't. So he sat with you, on the floor of the small office, providing all the comfort you needed until you were okay again. And he'll be here forever; ready to stick with you through the thick and thin, the harsh and the best. All to be able to see your bright smiles and your excited little gimmicks and even your worse days. Clay loved you, and that's something no logic could deny.
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.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D
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cherry-pop-elf · 4 months
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What Kissing The Weasley Siblings Feels Like
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Warnings: Fluff, Sensual, a little risky, no smut, graphic descriptions of lips and smoochies. 16+? Think that works
Writing Commissions Open
William ‘Bill’
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Given half his face is missing he doesn’t really like giving kisses. It’s awkward, and strange. To only have half your mouth. How his lips are never able to be soft, or how there is so much teeth. Despite it, you would always kiss the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be kissed, and that is simply that. You find a way, and doing so warms his soul. One day, he finally gets brave enough to return a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s strange, but his intent is all that matters. He was horribly anxious, but followed through. Besides. A little tongue makes it more fun anyway. Whenever the full moon gets closer, you expect getting nothing but tongue and teeth anyway. What’s some more?
Charlie
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Warm. They are always so warm, and chapped from the heat. He works with dragons all day, and you can always taste the ash on his breath. He’s a passionate man. He is so intense. Every kiss is like being swallowed whole by the embers of the very dragons he has tamed. He’s so passionate. A man that would lift you off your feet, and have you arched in his strong hands. As if he is trying to consume you, and lick your skin like an angry fire. He is a man that knows what he wants. What he wants is to make sure you know he loves you. He wants you so very bad
Percy
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He’s always been quite the prim and proper type. His kisses tend to be quick, short, and almost sharp. Like a peck to the cheek. He has just always had trouble showing affection, but you knew that when you signed up with him. So it wasn’t like he manipulated you into thinking one thing over the other. Regardless, he does try. When his lips do find yours, they are nice. His lips are honestly softer than you expect. He always did take good care of himself after all. They never last to long, but you enjoy them while you can. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone, and you are proud of him for doing such. That’s what matters, after all. You’ll get more. You know you will.
Fred
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He’s an intense fella. He likes to plaster you in little kisses, before becoming a living cartoon and dipping you into a passionate embrace. He loves to use kisses to fluster your soul, and be playful in soaking you in little ones. You swear every time you meet he makes sure to leave a kiss on you somewhere. His lips are warm, and a bit chapped. He works with fire works all day, kinda a given. Always the taste of ash on his tongue, but you are fine with it. You just adore how he’s always excited to give you kisses. Each other so alive. He’s just in love. What can he say?
George
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Similar to his twin, but still his own person entirely. He’s a bit more emotional. He likes to let kiss be a bit gentler, and lets them last longer. He would trail soft kisses from your cheek, ghost your lips, and go to the next cheek. Then slap a long passionate one, right on your lips. He likes showing his emotions through his lips. Short kisses of excitement, long kisses of need, ghosting to tease. He loves to make use of his mouth, what can he say? He does more than talk your ear off about his latest invention. Mans knows how to work those lips to his advantage. In all the right places.
Ron
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He’s an awkward guy. His kisses are either shy, or way too much mouth. You kinda have to teach him. As if either of you complain. He’s just a little dork. YOUR dork. Once he gets his footing, he’s enjoying himself. He still uses more mouth than lips, but you’ve grown to rather love it. How he’s just starving to have you. Even if you were gone just a few minutes. How he utterly craves your touch. It’s addictive. You’ve grown to adore those sloppy kisses he has to offer. They are HIS kisses after all. It makes him all the more special. He’s your dorky guy. All yours, and all his kisses belong to you. So hungry, and devouring.
Ginny
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She’s a professional Quidditch player. Do not expect her lips not to be cracked, bloody, dry, what have you. Doesn’t mean her kisses are any less adored. She’s one for quick pecks, as she’s always running off somewhere to do something. You are in love with a Jock. A Weasley Jock no less. Regardless, she knows how to kiss. She knows that sometimes you deserve longer smooches. She does, however, enjoy cheek kisses. She loves giving cheek kisses. Platonic, romantic, she’s a cheek kisser. She will hug you tight, and plant multiple cheek kisses all over you, when she’s really excited. She’s the child of six older brothers. She’s a bit aggressive, but that’s what made you fall in love with her. Ain’t that right?
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396 notes · View notes
seeingivy · 10 months
Note
ahhh congrats on 1K!! you deserve it all :D
for your concert, may I suggest got my mind set on you for eren with a friends to lovers type trope? like maybe eren has a bit of a past as a fuckboy and realizes now that he's in love with his friend. she doesn't believe him given his history, so he is determined to woo her, but really he just needs to show her that he's serious about her (because she has already loved him this whole time hehe). OR whatever you want to do!!
got my mind set on you
eren x f!reader
**part of my debut concert event
content: drinking, reader gets her periods and leaks on her sheets, eren is a manwhore, hitch is a hater, jean and marco are masterminds
an: thank you sweet sweet anon! you deserve all the love in the world. I hope you like it <333
--
“Y/N. White wife-beater or black wife-beater?” 
You peek up from the top of your textbook to glare at him and he has that stupid, stupid grin on his face. The one he uses to get anything he wants. 
“Man. At this point you’re just trying to sound like an asshole.” mutters Jean, taking Armin’s pillow and smacking it straight into his face. 
Mikasa and Armin laugh in response, agreeing as Eren makes his way over to you, flopping on his bed next to you. He’s leaning directly into your space, that musky cologne enveloping your nose as he starts talking. 
“Y/N.” 
“Eren.” 
“Black or white?” 
“Ass or face?” 
“What?” 
“Do you want me to punch you in the ass or in the face?” 
He laughs as he bends over, sticking the aforementioned ass into your space as he knocks your textbook out of your hands and you push him away. And you try to fight the smile trying to make its way on to your face, trying to feign as much anger as you can. 
But you can’t be mad at Eren. You can’t be anything but a jumbled mess of feelings at Eren lately. 
When you moved to college, you were looking forward to getting a fresh start from the town that you grew up in. Not that it was ever a bad place but it was never really a good place either. And you were ready to let it all go, to move away from your parents, to find out who you were. 
And just your luck, the one boy from your highschool going to the same college as you ends up in your orientation group and never leaves you alone after that. Dragging you to random club meetings for free food, taking you to mixers that your RA hosted, trying to sneak into frat parties together. 
At some point, you were just always together. And maybe some small part of you really liked having him around. That he wanted to be your best friend, told you all the little inner workings of his mind instead of someone else. That he thinks the Loch Ness Monster is made up, that he likes the Twilight movie soundtracks a little bit too much, that he loves mystery books. 
And he’s dorky - snorts when he laughs too hard, can’t drink beer without spilling it all over his shirt, and is so weirdly passionate about these little sea animals that he’s spending the entire summer doing an internship at the marine biology research lab at your university. 
But he’s also sweet - trying to memorize all the little facts about you, picking you up from class as a habit, telling you that you’re prettier than some shit guy who won’t come by. 
He’s your friend. Your sweet, secret little dorky friend. No one looks at you. But no one looks at him either. Maybe you guys only look at each other. 
Except when you come back from the summer, his dork is replaced with…charm. Charisma, an appeal, a magnetism. And maybe he was always really charming, but no one paid attention to it. It was just for you. 
But now they do - because he’s grown out his soft brown hair into this sunkissed loose man bun and spending all summer swimming in tidepools has defined his muscles. Because he was always gangly and a little awkward but one summer has him looking fit, in all the right places. 
That’s when it starts raining on your parade. Because when you and Eren go to parties, you’re talking to him less and the girl who's drunk and throwing up in the bathroom more. He’s too busy talking to the pretty girls, twirling their locks of hair in his hands and batting his pretty eyelashes at them. 
And he still picks you up from class with an iced coffee in hand, except the barista scribbled her name over your cup because she wants Eren to call her later. And you know Eren leans into it, because this newfound attention only gives him confidence to show off more. 
To tell girls about the creepy little slugs he spent all summer looking for so they can coo over how cute it is that he cares, to show off those ridiculously defined muscles, to gleam at people the way he does. 
You’re interrupted by your train of thought as Historia, the girl Eren met at a club meeting knocks on the door, shining sunlight at Eren as she smiles at him. And when he flicks the top of your forehead and stands up to press a kiss to her cheek and run out with her, you stick your face back into your textbook. 
And pretend it doesn’t sting. 
You peer over your notebook again to find Jean hanging upside down on the bunk, his eyes staring into yours. 
“Hi Y/N.” 
“Hi Jean. The blood is rushing to your head. You look like an overly ripe tomato.” 
He laughs as he flops off the bunk and next to you, leaning his head in to read your textbook. 
“A tort is a civil law that causes a claimant to suffer loss or….this shit is so fucking boring.” 
He snatches the textbook away from your clutches and flings it off the bed, giving an innocent smile as he does. 
“I was reading that.” 
“And now you’re not!” 
“Do you want something from me, Jean?” 
“Yeah. Let’s go on a date.” 
“You have a boyfriend.” 
“Yeah. It was his idea.” 
He pulls you up by the wrists as you both shuffle out of Armin and Eren’s dorm room, giving half-hearted goodbyes to Mikasa and Armin as he dragged you back to your hal. Trying to convince you to go on a date with him. 
“No.” 
“Listen. You make this mopey sad face whenever he brings a girl around. It’s really ugly.” 
“Thanks, Jean. You’re such a gentleman.” 
He pinches the bridge of his nose as he swings your door open, the two of you flopping onto your bed. 
“I just mean- I hate that you wait around for him. And Marco does too. I think it would be nice. For me to take you out, to make you feel special, to remind you that you don’t have to hopelessly pine over that idiot and wait for him to look at you back.” 
“Jean, I just-” 
He stands up, locking his fingers with yours, as he tries to use his boyish charm on you. And it’s entirely different from Eren’s. Where Eren oozes pure charisma, like you can’t help but give in because you just want to know what he’s getting at. 
Jean’s charm is more…boyish. Innocent. Because he’s smiling at you, all soft and genuine. Like you want to give in because you know he means well. It’s sweet. So you agree.
--
“Eren.” 
“Hm?” 
“Pink dress or white skirt?” 
You hold up the options as Eren looks at you for the first time - even though he’s been in your dorm for the past three hours texting Historia in your bed - and squints at you. 
“Are you wearing makeup?” 
“Yeah. I’m going on a date.” 
He stands up, placing his hands on your cheek as he moves your face around in the air, taking in the product on your face. A soft glitter on your eyelids, black around your eyes that makes your eyes look infinitely bigger, and soft pink on the tops of your cheeks. 
“With who?” 
“Well, Jean for now. But it’s practice before I start going on real dates you know?” 
“You’re going on dates? Why?” 
You roll your eyes as you turn back in the mirror, holding up the options to your frame as you weigh what to wear. 
“Because. I want to get out there and I’m like…deeply touch starved or whatever. I just want someone told hold me or something. And it feels weird to do it cold turkey so Jean’s taking me.” 
“You could have asked me. I could take you.” 
You roll your eyes as you push past him, reaching for your flowery perfume that you spray on for special occasions. Eren’s leaning against your bedpost, his eyes scrunched up in frustration that for some reason is really annoying you. 
“You have a girlfriend.” 
“Hisu’s not my girlfriend. We’re just talking.” 
“Okay, yeah. Same thing.” 
“Jean has a boyfriend.” 
“This was Marco’s idea, Eren. He’s not going to care if I actually go on it and I think he’s probably the one who bought the flowers Jean’s going to bring me.” 
You hold the two options up in the air again, boring your eyes into Eren’s as you gesture for him to respond again. 
“I’m not picking.” 
“I literally pick your date outfits for you all the time. You could pick for me.” 
And Eren mutters something that sounds like pink under his breath which you smile brightly at as you duck into your closet to slip the dress on. And when it’s all fresh and pressed against your skin, there’s a knock on your door and a very smiley Jean waiting for you. 
As you predicted, he’s holding a pretty bouquet of pink flowers in his hand, wearing a nice buttoned up shirt as opposed to his usual lame t-shirts. 
“Hi. Don’t you look pretty?” 
He reaches for your wrist and lifts your hand up to spin you around, the pleats of your dress whooshing in the air and a stupid laugh falling out of your lips. 
“Jean. You’re laying it on a little thick there.” 
He shakes his head dismissively as he places the bouquet on your desk, giving a small nod to Eren as he walks back to you, pinching the side of your cheek. 
“You’re getting the full Jean Kirschtein experience. I have to set the bar high so you don’t settle for a whole idiot or anything.” 
And Eren watches you and he hates it. That he has this angry, green little monster simmering in his chest. That you’re smiling at Jean, that he’s taking you on a date to set your standards, that you’re wearing a pretty dress and laughing with someone who isn’t him. 
And he knows it’s wrong. That he has no right to be jealous when he’s talked to other girls ever since the summer ended while you’ve remained steadfast and true. And it wasn’t like you were staying true to him because Eren’s positive that you don’t feel that obligation, that loyalty to him, but some part of him feels like you do. Or wishes that you do. 
But suddenly…he’s feeling it for you. That he shouldn’t be with anyone but you, that he’s the person who should be taking you on cute dates, twirling you around in pretty dresses, having you spread glitter all over your face for him. 
Eren texts Historia as he watches you and Jean duck out the door. 
“Uh huh, Kirschtein. I’m sure this is gonna be the best date of my life.”
“That’s a promise, baby girl.” 
“Ew. Baby girl?” 
“Do you prefer sweetheart instead?” 
“You’re so fucking corny, Jean.”  
And when the door closes, he sends the text. 
I want to see other people. Sorry Hisu.  
--
You return from your date with Jean to find Eren slumped over in your bed, typing away on his laptop. Your roommate, Hitch, is glaring bloody murder at you as she flits her eyes over to his direction. 
“Eren.” 
“Ah. You’re back. How was it?” 
“What are you doing in my room? I left hours ago.” 
“Just wanted to see you when you got back. And I was spending time with my best friend, Hitch. She’s just so riveting to talk to and I just love her so much.” 
She throws her portable fan at his head, which he catches before it makes contact and then throws it back at her.
“I’ll walk you back to yours, Eren. And you’re buying Hitch coffee as an apology.” 
He rolls his eyes as he grabs his bag, blowing fake kisses to Hitch as she flips him off. You’re both trodding through the hall, the building quiet. It’s Friday night. Everyone’s partying. 
“Didn’t want to party tonight, Eren?” 
“Nah. Didn’t feel like it. How was your date?” 
You smile as you twiddle with your fingers. 
It was nice. To feel special, to have someone tell you that you were pretty. And sure he didn’t mean it in that way and it was entirely platonic, but it was nice to have someone look at you. Who wants to make you feel special, try to coax you into doing things you don’t usually do. 
And you’re positive it’ll feel even better when the feelings are reciprocated. 
“Really nice, Eren. I’m excited to…meet people. Date them. Have someone make me feel special, tell me I’m pretty.” 
“You’re pretty.” 
You look over to find Eren’s cheeks burning pink, the tips of his ears red as he avoids eye contact with you. 
“Thank you?” 
“Ye-yeah. Sure.” 
You make it to Eren’s door and he swings the door open, dragging you in by the wrist. From the looks of it, Armin’s not home, Eren’s desk light flickering on the desk. He drags you to his bed, the two of you sitting on his plush duvet. 
“Eren. I was just walking you here. I’m kind of tired from the painting.” 
“You went painting?” 
“Yeah. It was like a pottery type thing. We picked out mugs and just painted on them. Talked about stuff. Shared an ice cream together after. Jean and Marco gave me very sweet kisses on the cheek when I dropped him back off to his dorm.” 
Eren pushes his hand through his hair as he asks, the question making the air in his throat burn. 
“Ah. Would you ever…go on a date with me?” 
And you laugh. Quite literally laugh, because he cannot be serious. 
“God, Eren. Don’t be a cliche right now.” 
“What?” 
“You see your best friend go on a date with another guy and suddenly you’re interested in her. It’s like every corny rom-com.” 
You lean forward, pinching the plush of his cheek. 
“You just want what you can’t have, Eren. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for two years. And of course, you only look at me when you can’t have me.” 
“Wait, but I-” 
“Eren. I want someone who makes me feel special. And you’ve always been special to me, but I want to be special to someone too. Let’s not make our friendship weird. And hey, maybe we can actually be equals this time.” 
“Equals?” 
“Two people who care about each other the same amount. Not one person hopelessly pining over the other.” 
You give his cheek one last pinch as you pad out his door, giving him a smile before you slam the door shut. 
--
The next morning, Eren’s standing outside your Civil Law lecture with a coffee in hand. And a shy smile pressed across his face. 
“Good morning, Y/N.” 
“Hi Eren.” 
Despite your admission of your feelings and your swift rejection of Eren, he’s still standing here. And you were expecting it, because you know that Eren wasn’t really saying any of that in earnest. And it’s nice to admit your feelings, as a way of letting them go before you give in and like someone else. 
You take the cup from his hand and shove the much needed caffeine into your mouth, the two of you strolling to your next class. You look over to find Eren with a pinched look on his face, like he’s constipated. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm?” 
“Cat got your tongue? What’s wrong with you?” 
“You didn’t…look at the cup.” 
You look back down at the cup to find handwriting scribbled on it in green sharpie. 
you look pretty today, sweet girl 
You laugh, holding it up in the air. 
“No way. The barista called you a sweet girl? It’s that long ass hobo hair you have.” 
“What? That wasn’t the barista, that was me!” 
“You wrote on the cup? Why?” 
“For you, stupid! I’m trying to romance you.” 
You spit the coffee straight into your cup, looking back down at the cup again. And holy shit he’s right - the way the g is looped and the writing is slanted, it really is Eren’s handwriting. 
“Eren.” 
“What?” 
“It’s cute. But you’re going to do it for like one week. And then get bored of waiting and see some pretty girl at a party and change your mind.” 
“I’m not! You’re it for me.”
“Eren. Bullshit. You wouldn’t last a month.” 
He leans forward, pressing you into the hard of the wall as he looks down, green eyes glinting in yours. 
“Bet.” 
“What?” 
“I’ll bet on it. Prove it to you. That I’ve got my mind set on you.” 
“Uh huh. That takes a lot of patience, Eren. Time. Something that’s never been your forté.” 
“I’ll make it my forté, if it’s for you.” 
You give into the bet. A month for Eren to romance you, to prove that he’s really only got his mind set on you. 
You give in because you know you’ll win. He gives in because he wants to prove the stupid, silly girl he loves that he can do it right. 
--
eren: good morning silly little woman. fit check pls :D 
you: no. 
eren: cmon. ive got back to back classes and im missing that cute little face of yours :((( 
you: just ask ur hoes. im sure they’re cute too. 
eren: no hoes. im allergic to gardening. 
you: you should start stand up comedy. you’d be really good at it.  
eren: you want me so bad 
you: shut up
eren: im waiting!!!! time is ticking doll, i will show up to your club meeting and start gushing about how pretty my girlfriend is in front of all your little prospective club members if i don’t get a fit check in ten seconds
you: not your girlfriend 
eren: yet. three weeks to go. 
you: do you not have anything else to do?
eren: picture and i’ll be out of your hair. 
you: sent one attachment
eren: eren jaeger found dead at twenty-one.
you: thank god. 
eren: cause of death - the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen in my life. absolute heartstopper
you: EREN. YOU’RE SO GROSS AND CORNY STOP. 
eren: ok ok see you after class sweet girl. and thanks for the picture. corniness aside, it really did make my day. you’re my favorite thing to look at. 
You ignore the pounding in your chest as you throw your phone into your purse and head to the coffee shop. And what you hoped would be an uninterrupted study session is interrupted by a certain green eyed idiot, smiling at you as he takes the seat across from you. 
“Hi doll.” 
“Eren. You have class.” 
“Got canceled. The planets and the fates and all the stars aligned. You and me, free for a little study date at the same time.” 
You crinkle your nose as you lift your backpack from the seat next to you, Eren sliding in and taking a sip from your watered down coffee. 
“Did you just rhyme? How long did that one take you?” 
“The whole walk over here. Did you like it?” 
“No.” 
Eren opens up his laptop, the two of you working in silence. And in the smallest of ways, Eren’s making it hard for you to focus. 
Tangling his legs with yours under the desk, resting his hand on your thigh every time you work out one of your homework problems with him, tucking your hair behind your ear every time it annoyingly flops forward. 
“Oh! I have something for you.” 
He holds out a tiny little candy, a twisted mango strawberry pop. The one you can only get in Shiganshina, a four hour drive away. 
“What the fuck? You had Mindy’s the entire time and your greedy ass wasn’t sharing?” 
You take the little candy in his hand, twisting the ends open and letting the flavors melt on your tongue. And the nostalgia hits your head, running in the grass as a kid, your mom keeping a little box on the top of the microwave for you two to share at the end of the day. 
“Just got them. I drove all the way to Shiganshina to get them for you.” 
“Uh huh.” 
“I’m being serious. I went on Sunday, after my lab meeting. Got the box, hung out with my dog for an hour and came back.” 
“You were probably just running an errand down there. I bet Zeke just needed your help with something.” 
“My parents and Zeke are in Hizuru, remember?” 
You feel your mouth go dry as you shuffle the candy in your mouth, huffing back in your chair. Corny ass idiot. They are in Hizuru to meet Zeke’s new girlfriend. But there’s no way in hell he drove all the way there just to get you a candy. 
“There’s no way you-”
“I’ve got my mind set on you. In my mind, you and I are already dating. I’m just kind of waiting for you to catch up.” 
“Oh, quit i-” 
“When you’re my girlfriend, we’ll go together. Make a little drive out of it, see your parents and my parents. Get Mindy’s. Bother that lady who works at the aquarium.” 
“Eren.” 
He pinches your cheek as you frown, rolling your eyes at him. 
“For now, I'll just drive down there alone to get you candy. Three more weeks, stink.” 
--
Your stress is building. You’ve got two term papers due next week, a club meeting to plan, a project to go over with your research advisor, and groceries to do. And really, really all you are is bone dead tired. That you can feel your bones dragging and your eye bags deepening and the panic shuffling every time you breathe in and out. 
Your final straw? Forgetting you were going to get your period and leaking onto your bed sheets. 
And you know it’s not a big deal. That you can wash the sheets and get the stain out, that you can take a shower to feel better. 
But this tiny little thing, this red blotch on your sheets, is enough to push you over the edge. Because you’re tired, because so much is going on, because this is just another thing you don’t have time to do but have to. 
You can feel the tears streaming down your eyes, burning the sensitive skin underneath your eyes and flushing your cheek. 
That’s when Eren finds you. Curled up on the ground, tears streaming down your eyes. 
“Woah, hey. Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?” 
He falls flat on the floor next to you, opening up his arms which you roll into and start soaking his shirt in your salty tears. He’s whispering into your ear, whispering sweet nothings and his warm arms are holding you. 
“Tell me what happened. Use your words.” 
“I-I have a lot to do. The Civil Law paper and the entire plan for the-the club meeting. Dr. Smith wants to meet with me about my-my research plan and I’m not ready and I got my period and leaked on my sheets and I don’t have time to clean and-” 
“Okay. It’s okay.” 
His warm, calloused hands are rubbing into the small of your back, his hold still firm against you. And he drags you up, opening the shower and warming it up for you. He’s rummaged through your closet - pulled out a stack of clothes and set them on the counter. 
“Are you…going to leave?” 
“Of course not, Y/N. Outside when you’re done, okay?” 
And you take the shower. Spend too long standing underneath the warm water, letting the shower scald your skin in a comforting way, relishing in the smell of your springy body soap washing you clean. Of the tears, of the blood, of your frustrations. 
When you towel up your hair and reach for the stack of clothes on the counter, you only now realize what this cheeky bastard did. Left a pair of your pajamas and the hoodie he was wearing on the counter. 
You pull it on, his musky smell mixing with the scent of your flowery shampoo, as you pad out of your room, Eren folding your laundry on your bed. 
“Eren.” 
He turns around and gives you a warm smile, walking forward to lock his fingers with yours. 
“You look so cute right now. Pouty little face and your hair in this stupid towel.” 
“Quit it.” 
He leads you over to your bed, climbing on as he pulls you forward. 
“Cleaned the sheets. Did your laundry. And made a plan for you to finish the paper and emailed Erwin from your account that you’re not free until the week after and-” 
You can feel your eyes burning, the tears welling up in your face. You lean into his arms and he rests his chin against the top of your head, his hands snaking under your hoodie to press against your cold skin. 
“Eren.” 
“Hm.” 
“This is a really elaborate plan to get into my pants.” 
He laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest as he talks. 
“I know.” 
“I knew it, you dick. You only want to get in my pants.”  
“Well, that’s part of it. I am very attracted to you. I’m not going to pretend like I don’t want to be in your pants.” 
“Charming. The whole “I’ve got my mind set on you thing” is really working.” 
“I'm being honest! I want to be in your pants and in your head and all your little dreams and your heart too.” 
You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat hammering against your ears as he finishes talking. And when you drift off to sleep, you can still feel it beating in tandem with yours. And try to forget why you and Eren are waiting two weeks to do this for real in the first place. 
--
He’s done it now. And you’ve caught him in the fucking act. The sweet, sweet satisfaction of proving this idiot wrong - that he would get bored of waiting for you and move onto another girl is standing right in front of you. 
It’s Eren’s friend Reiner’s birthday. Eren had told you in advance that he couldn’t see you Friday and you obliged. 
Except, Hitch invited you to the party the day of, claiming she needed someone to walk in with so she didn’t look like an idiot. Some guy Marlowe she’s really into is going to be there and she has to be at her best. 
And when you get to the party, you lose Hitch in all but five seconds, left in this awkward, sweaty mess of a room alone. But when you walk over to the kitchen, you see it. 
Eren leaning over the counter, talking to a girl. Short brown hair, a mass of freckles over her face, the two of them smiling at each other. And when you march over there, you’re all but too happy to rub it in his face. 
Because you’re right. And you knew you were right. That Eren, all hot and toned and sexy from his beach summer, would not give it up. The attention, the girls, the love he gets from all of it for you. That he would look at other things and not at you, that you couldn’t be enough for him. And he can buy you coffee and do your laundry and be there for you all he wants, but you know deep down you’re right. 
“You little son of a bitch. Week three and I win.” you say, crossing your hands over your chest. 
“Huh?” 
“I win. You’re at a party, flirting with a girl. Meaning, you don’t have your mind set on me. Meaning, I’m right. That you can’t let go of being a manwhore for me, that you surely have your eyes wandering elsewhere even though you claim to be only looking at me.” 
“Y/N-” 
“You think driving to get me candy and doing my laundry and giving me your hoodie would buy me over? You’re not getting into my pants for a quick fuck just because you know you can and-” 
He pulls you forward, clamping his hand over your mouth. He’s squinting his eyes at you, almost like he’s confused at your outburst. And when you look over at the girl, you realize why. 
It’s Ymir. The president of the Gay-Straight Alliance Ymir. Like literally the gayest girl you’ve probably ever met in your life. 
“Oh.” 
Eren smiles, rolling his eyes, as he drops his hands to lock his hand with yours. 
“Yeah, oh. Did you not see it was her when you walked over?” 
“No. Hi Ymir.” 
Ymir smiles, reaching forward to mess with your hair as she turns to Eren. 
“You’re right. She really is stubborn.” Ymir says, smiling at him. 
“Tell me about it. She does this every time I do something nice for her.” he responds, squeezing your hand as he talks. 
“Well, you are a manwhore.” 
“Not anymore, Ymir! I’m only a whore for her.” 
She pinches your cheek as she walks off, linking arms with a certain blonde as you walk away. And when you look over, Eren’s lazily making a drink for you on the counter, swirling it in his hand before he gives you the cup. 
“It’s Jungle Juice. There’s like three different liquors in it but you can’t really taste it s-”
“You’re not mad?” 
“Huh?” 
“I just…yelled at you. Really unfairly. And you’re not even mad?” 
“Got my mind set on you. Like you said, this thing takes patience. And time. I’ll wait for it. You’ll come to see I’m surprisingly good at this patience understanding when it’s something I really, really want.” 
And as he tilts his head back, pouring the drink into his mouth, like the entire outburst you had didn’t happen. And that’s it. You crane your head around the kitchen, looking for it. 
“Whatcha looking for?” 
Eren watches you mill around the kitchen, opening drawers, lifting picture frames as you look for it. And when you find it - the calendar posted on Reiner’s wall - you rip it off and place it in front of Eren with a marker in your hand. 
“What’s this, Y/N?” 
“Did you know that I can move time forward?” 
“Huh? How much have you had to drink?” 
You reach forward, crossing out through the entire week. The last week of the month, for the bet you and Eren had. 
Because he’s convinced you. That his mind’s set on you. That even if he used to like other girls, the girl he likes now is you. Enough to drive hours to make you happy, take care of you - bloody sheets and all, and gush at a party about you to other people. Like he’s proud to be around you, like you’re the only thing he looks at. 
“I don’t follow, sweet girl.” 
“The bet started three weeks ago. And I crossed out the last week, so it’s over now. And I want to be with you no-” 
He leans forward, pressing his warm, plush lips against yours as he can’t help but smile through the kiss. All warm and fruity, surely from the drink Eren just made. And he whispers against your mouth, eliciting a laugh out of you. 
“Thank fucking god. You were driving me insane, you little heathen.” 
You reach forward, tangling your hands with the collar of his shirt as you pull him down again, pressing your lips against his, trying to memorize the feel, the sensation of him against you. 
And when Hitch comes home from the party, all buzzed, to find you two under the covers, watching a movie, she says one thing and one thing only. 
“No fucking in my bed.”
--
taglist: @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @daisynik7 @rebeccawinters ​@itzmeme 
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hard-core-super-star · 7 months
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you can see it with the lights out [K.Bishop]
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pairing: kate bishop x reader
summary: enduring a storm and a subsequent power outage with kate bishop by your side might not be the worst thing in the world.
warnings: none, just tooth-rotting fluff; storm + power outage = kate bishop being an adorable dork; very light mentions of anxiety and small insecurities
wordcount: 1.5k
a/n: i had so many other things to write but i really wanted to do some good old-fashioned fluff. i'm always so tempted to turn my kate fics into angst or hurt/comfort or smut so this was a nice change of pace. although you could argue this isn't just fluff but shhh. i just think golden retriever gf kate is the best kate <3 [and i would 100% cry if someone did something cute and dorky like this for me]
* * * * * * *
Storms and power outages have become synonymous with life in New York for you. Any time the sky fills with those dark clouds, you know to go stock up on candles and blankets since the power will most likely go out in your apartment. 
You’re not sure if it’s a safety precaution or if the power lines around your building always end up getting damaged, you just know the routine you’ve come to adopt over the years. 
A routine that’s never included Kate Bishop until now.
You’ve been dating the brunette archer for a few months and she’s somehow become the one constant in your life that you didn’t know you needed but have grown to adore.
Whether it’s randomly showing up at your apartment with a bag of takeout or staying on the phone with you until you fall asleep, Kate always does her best to be there for you and provide the support she knows you’re still too shy to ask for.
She thinks it’s cute that you still get tongue-tied around her despite how much of a dork she truly is when she’s with you. You, on the other hand, think she’s a jerk for pulling that damn smirk onto her face and making you flustered every chance she gets.
So maybe you’re a little head over heels in love with Kate and maybe she’s a little too proud of herself for that, despite the fact that neither of you have spoken your true feelings out loud yet, but the two of you make a perfect pair. A pair that’s only rivaled by power outages and your apartment building.
There had been a heavy rain warning for the past few days but it wasn’t until this morning that the sky filled up with borderline black clouds. Clouds that told you your power wouldn’t be on for much longer. 
You had accepted your fate, gone on a brisk walk to the nearest grocery store, and shot your girlfriend an apologetic text about having to postpone your picnic date. The brunette had left you on seen but you didn’t think anything of it since Kate’s attention span can sometimes be shorter than Lucky’s, which is saying something.
Most of the day flies by in a blur of reading and watching your comfort show while listening to the heavy rain falling against your windows. It’s not until you hear a knock on your front door that your normal routine is interrupted.
“Kate?” Your eyes widen as you open the door and come face to face with your rain-soaked girlfriend. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, I hated that we had to cancel our date so I decided to bring the date to you!” She proudly holds up a takeout bag not-so-carefully stuffed inside a light brown picnic basket. “I wanted to cook something but you can imagine how well that went.”
There’s something about the way she’s looking at you with that sparkle in her eyes and a huge smile on her face that makes you tear up a little. There’s nothing incredibly extravagant about her actions but the feelings behind every one of her choices makes your heart flutter in your chest in a way you’ve never felt before.
Kate doesn’t need any words to tell you how much she truly adores you. And it’s something you never thought you would find, much less with someone like her.
“Hey, what’s wrong, babe?” She asks, her head slightly tilted to the side.
You can’t form a single sound but your girlfriend doesn’t need your help to know what to do. She steps forward in an instant, gently dropping the picnic basket on the ground before pulling you into her embrace and kicking the door closed behind her.
The fabric of her soft purple hoodie is completely soaked but you don’t mind one bit. You just wrap your arms around her waist and let the feeling of her body against yours drown out everything else.
Including the tiny voice in the back of your mind that reminds you your apartment is a complete mess that’s probably a few minutes away from being submerged in total darkness.
Kate might be a New Yorker through and through but she’s had a different life than you. One that’s been filled with the nicest things money can buy. Such as an apartment that can actually withstand a storm.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself while your head rests against her shoulder.
“Why are you apologizing?”
You shrug but Kate doesn’t accept silence as an answer. She doesn’t rush you, though, she just trails her fingers up and down your arm in an attempt to reassure you that she’s with you.
It’s unusual for her to actually be patient for once yet she puts all her focus on waiting for you to tell her about all the worries she knows linger in the depths of your mind. She’s gotten incredibly good at reading your nonverbal cues by now.
“I don’t know,” you finally say. “I just feel like you…deserve more than this.”
She can’t back a quiet chuckle, one that comforts you in ways you can’t describe. “More than a cozy night in with my gorgeous girlfriend?”
“You know what I mean,” you whisper, leaning back a little so you can look at her again.
“Mmm, nope. I really don’t.”
She doesn’t give you a chance to argue back even though she can practically hear the words gathering on your lips. Instead, she leans in to kiss you and successfully distracts your mind from all the small insecurities that linger inside.
The lights go out right when she pulls away from your lips.
The sound of your groan is swallowed up by Kate’s laugh. The excitement you hear is more than enough to change your attitude about the current situation even if you’re a little confused about her reaction.
“What’s got you so giddy?” You question the brunette.
She doesn’t answer you immediately but you can see the telltale signs of her coming up with a, probably ridiculous, idea. Her hands leave your body as she picks up the picnic basket once again, that smirk you’ve come to love adorning her face. “Can I interest you in a romantic candlelit dinner?”
You smile despite yourself. “Only if you promise to wash the dishes afterwards.”
“Way to ruin the mood, babe.”
All you can do is laugh while she pulls you toward the kitchen, both of you stumbling around like idiots due to the darkness that consumes the apartment.
It’s not until a few hours later when the two of you are cuddled up underneath your fluffiest blankets that she gathers the courage to ask you about your earlier reaction.
Your head rests comfortably on her chest, her fingers drawing random patterns on your side, as the question leaves her lips. “Baby? What got you so emotional when you saw me at the door? Did I do something?”
Her concern serves to soothe you and make you nervous at the same time. You debate coming up with a stupid response instead of telling her the truth and laying your feelings on the line. Ultimately, you decide to take the jump, somehow knowing Kate will be right there to catch you.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, Katie,” you respond, loving the way she pulls you closer once the nickname leaves your lips. “You just always know what to do. How to make me feel better, how to make me feel…loved.”
You feel the way her breath catches at your words and you can already tell you’ll never grow tired of it. She’s silent for a long while but you don’t mind. Where there once was anxiety and uncertainty, now there’s only safety and love.
She shifts around after a few seconds, placing your head on the pillow instead of her chest before she turns onto her side so you’re face-to-face. The tiniest of slivers of moonlight shines through your bedroom window and offers you enough light to see the expression of pure love that covers the archer’s face.
There are no words but her eyes say it all. Even in the silence and with the lights out, you can see it.
And you’re sure there’s no better feeling than this…until she finally speaks the words out loud.
“I do love you, y/n. A lot. Like almost as much as my bow, or Lucky, or-”
You lean in to kiss her before she can keep rambling. You feel her smile against your lips as her arm goes around your waist again, pulling you impossibly closer to her warm body.
“I’m going to ignore the fact that you just said you love your dog and your bow more than me,” you tease her. “I love you too, Katie.”
A content sigh leaves her as you lean your head against her chest once again, her chin resting on top of your head while she holds you in her protective embrace. “I love you more though.”
You just smile in response, letting her have her way for now, and allow your eyes to slip shut. The storm and the blackout are the last things on your mind while you rest in your girlfriend's arms.
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wonysugar · 5 months
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it’s so over for me…. ch. 21
a date!! no shivers
word count : 1.1k
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you stared at her latest message, “only if you want it to be<3” before scoffing.
ugh. who does the fuck she think she is?? making you giggle like an idiot like that.. embarrassing, really..
upon sending your latest message, the one containing your dorm number, you immediately threw your phone on the bed and rushed to your closet, already thinking of a possible outfit. this exact sequence of actions gave you very vivid flashbacks of the night of the party, which made you scoff.
cause, yknow, that was the same night that an intoxicated aeri was tongue deep inside you.
that really wasn’t relevant at the moment, what especially mattered was the amount of bomb ass ice cream you were gonna eat later,
with a very sober aeri.
you giggled as you looked into your closet, smiled wider when you thought of a potential cute outfit (thanks to that one trip to h&m), grabbed the necessary clothing for it, and quickly got dressed, enthusiasm and excitement definitely showing through the speed of your actions.
after getting (very nicely) dressed, you patiently waited for an indicator that aeri was here. thankfully, it didn’t take long at all for her to show up and be at your door, the sudden sound of the doorbell getting you even more excited about the ‘date’ in question.
“hey whore.” she said, wearing a wide grin, so wide that it made her look stupid. 
“hey slut.” you said back, grinning just as much as she was, because you apparently didn’t mind looking stupid, either.
she stood there, stared at your outfit with a dorky smile, then subconsciously, slightly, nodded her head at the sight. i mean, you dressed up for her, she’d be crazy not to notice that. what she didn’t notice, though, was that she was staring for a bit longer than she intended to. you internally laughed, god she really was a dork.
in response to her staring, you teased, “didn’t think i could wear cute clothes, huh?” 
snapped out of her trance, “yeah.. y-yeah, nice to see you at least have some fashion sense.” she nervously giggled, attempting to seem just as rude as she always is, stepping aside from the doorframe, leaving you space to leave your dorm. “anywaysss uh– after you.” she added, avoiding your gaze.
you could’ve sworn you saw a tint of red on her face, she was blushing at least a little bit, you were certain of it. 
with a grin, you walked out of the room, the action followed by the sound of her gently closing your door, her rhythmic footsteps so loud, so loud that they were practically resonating in the hall. 
or was that your heartbeat? you really couldn’t tell.
-
“yeah so then i was like… ohhh my god like please shut up and just let me copy your homework, like it’s really not that deep, you know?” she explained, sitting on the driver’s seat of her fancy car with you, by her side, as she took occasional licks from her very basic, very vanilla ice cream. you, on the other hand, were already done with your food, and waited for her to finish.
you nodded, “so you were the exact same in high school. you never change, huh?” endlessly teasing her as she laughed with you.
“basically, yeah. it’s in my blood.”
“you know, if i was your classmate in high school, i would’ve let you copy any sort of homework you asked for.” you said, trying to get another one of her flustered reactions out of her. which very much worked, as per usual, considering she quickly stumbled on her words and slightly fidgeted with her hands. it was a thing she did whenever she got nervous. 
oh it was so fun seeing her like this.
“oh if i did ask you it’d be a way of flirting, probably— anyways uh!! so like i was saying–”
you smiled warmly as you listened to her every word, looking at her eyes, her lips, the structure of it all, her whole face in general. you even watched her body language, the way she paid close attention to not breaking her nails whenever she did any sort of movement, the way that, despite that, she’d still dig them into her fingers whenever she fidgeted with her hands.
god she was really cute. the best way you could describe it is… yknow– if a loser girl randomly woke up in the body of a super attractive mean girl one day and asked no questions, just quickly took advantage of the fact that pretty privilege existed and did whatever she wanted? yeah, that was her.
that was aeri uchinaga.
she was a huge bitch, yeah, but once you got to actually know her? once she let you see what was behind that ‘bad bitch’ facade she always seemed to have, she was a sweetheart. for example, she definitely didn’t want you to notice, but she got you five extra napkins and asked for extra sprinkles when she ordered your ice cream; but you did, you did notice.
in other words, she was a softie, she just didn’t wanna show it.
you’d get it out of her one day, though! you were determined.
“–like i get reading books, but if you seriously expect me to read planet of the apes and enjoy it enough to answer stupid fucking study guide questions about it, you need to be locked up as soon as possible?? like, how is someone as sick and twisted as yo–”
“wait, books??” you quickly exclaimed, your selective hearing really coming through on this one
she sighed, “yes, y/n, books. were you even listeni–”
“oh aeri i love books!”
oh there you go.
“i don’t think you read much but god, reading is so fun! especially romance books and especiallyyy sapphic books!” you added, rambling, on and on, as she listened to you, on and on.
“okay– well…” she quickly cut you off before you continued, you stopped, worrying that you might’ve talked too much. you truly never shut up about your interests, particularly books. 
“ugh okay– hate to admit that you’re right but yeah no i don’t– i don’t read. so do you have like.. any recommendations? like, what a beginner should read and shit?”
oh my god.
oh my god?
is it too early to propose??
-
“aeri, you really didn’t have to get me a&w, you know that?” you stated, holding onto the bag of junkfood before settling it down on the drawer next to the door.
“we drove around for like 2 hours y/n, i’m not making you go back home on an empty stomach, i’m not a man.” she joked around, smirking and leaning into the frame as you giggled at her words, mentally high fiving herself for making you laugh at one of her jokes. 
“well, it’s not like i can eat this whole thing alone.” you muttered, making her eyes perk up at you. 
“h-huh, what do you mean, do you not have a big appetite?”
you smiled, she really was clueless,
“i’m asking you if you can stay the night, aeri.”
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agaypanic · 6 months
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I saw that you were interested in lab rats requests, and I'm obsessed with that show and have like a billion thoughts in my head so can i request a chase davenport x reader, where the reader is perry's niece and shes kind of a grey character. Like she's mean to everyone who deserves it, especially those who are mean to Chase, which is honestly a lot of people. Similar to Jade from victorious but less intense lol. One day she just goes off and Chase is just so into it.
Chase Davenport With Principal Perry's Niece Headcanons
Masterlist
Request Something!
A/N: fun fact, i know jade from clips on tiktok, but ive actually never really seen victorious aside from one episode that my ex made me watch years ago that i barely paid attention to lol
***
He’s a bit scared of you at first
He thinks you’ll be like your aunt, who’s a bit of a nightmare
But he’s quickly proven wrong when you’re left alone
“You! Dorky twerp!” Principal Perry pointed at Chase and his siblings, and they all looked at her confused.
“Think that means you, bud,” Adam said, pushing Chase towards the woman before running off, Bree and Leo hot on his heels. Chase hesitantly closed the distance between him and Perry.
“Yes, Principal Perry?”
“Meet my niece, Y/n.” It was then that he noticed you, standing beside your aunt. You wore a bored expression. “She’s new here, moved in with me because her parents are fighting for custody, and the judge thinks they’re both incompetent.”
“Aunt Terry…” You groaned, wishing she didn’t always feel the need to share such personal and unnecessary information.
“Anyways, I want you to show her to her classes.” Perry leaned in close to Chase, glaring at him. “Make a move on her, and you’re dead meat, Daven-dork.”
You and Chase watched her walk away, somewhat mortified. Then you looked at each other in an awkward silence. You were the first to speak.
“Sorry about her…” You laughed a little, trying to lighten the mood. “What’s your name?”
“Chase.” He responded, a bit taken aback. If he was being honest, he thought that there was something in Perry’s DNA that made her the crabby, mean woman she was. So it would’ve made sense if everyone related to her was similar. “Chase Davenport.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile, holding your hand out for him to shake. He smiled back as he shook your hand. 
“Nice to meet you, too.”
You quickly become inseparable, much to your aunt’s chagrin
You’re a lot nicer than her, which surprises everyone
But that doesn’t mean you’re never mean
Luckily, it’s only to people who deserve it
Trent was quick to become a pain in your ass. Not directly to you; he was too scared of Perry’s wrath. But the way he treated Chase and his siblings pissed you off. Chase told you not to worry about it, that he was used to it, but you weren’t having it.
“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should be, Chase.” You say as he told you for the tenth time today to forget about Trent and his behavior.
“Aw, it’s cute that you care,” Chase said, laughing when you jokingly pushed him and told him to be quiet. But then he got pushed again, only this time much rougher.
“This kid bothering you, Y/n?” Trent asked with a flirty grin, getting close. You rolled your eyes, pushing past him to get back to Chase.
“No, but someone else is.” You say with a deadpan tone, staring intensely at Trent. He looked around the hall.
“Who?”
“Jesus.” You muttered, you and Chase snickering to each other as you walked away.
Sometimes, your anger gets the best of you
Like when Chase’s bullies start to get a bit physical
You fight back more than he does
After what felt like forever, you got out of your last class of the day and went to the main hall to wait for Chase. He was often waiting for you by his locker, ready to walk you home.
But today, he wasn’t the only person at his locker. A few guys from the football team surrounded him, pushing him whenever he tried to move away.
“Fellas, come on.” He laughed nervously. 
“Shut up, nerd!”
“Hey!” You shouted from across the hall, effectively grabbing all of the boys’ attention. You stomped over to them. “Leave him alone.”
The jocks all turned to surround you, looking amused.
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” One of them asked, leaning close to you. “You know, I’m not afraid to hit a girl.”
“I’m not either.” You responded before stomping on his foot and punching him in the stomach. He yelped in pain, and his friends backed away. You grabbed the boy by the ear, making him wince. “Considering football is probably the only thing you and your friends are good at, I suggest you apologize and get the hell out of here. Unless you wanna try to play with some broken fingers?”
The jock immediately shook his head, the others doing the same.
“I’m sorry.” He squeaked.
“I’m not the one you should be saying that to.” You let go of his ear and pushed him towards Chase. Chase stepped aside, watching the football player run into the lockers from the force of your shoving. 
“Sorry…” He said to Chase before looking at his friends and running away with them. The apology didn’t seem too genuine, sounding more scared than anything else. But it was a start.
“You okay?” You asked, looking Chase up and down for any possible damage. He stared at you in slight shock, slowly nodding. You smiled and held your hand out. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Chase swiftly grabbed your hand, walking out of the school with you.
“That was hot.” The short but serious sentence made you laugh.
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astralnymphh · 5 months
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https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8U4VT5x/
okay okay I feel like this would be ellie but with space/dino decor !! such a cute lil dorky room for a cute lil dork 🙈
stopp i can see her having a sweater with a dinosaur hoodie or sumn lie the HELP HELPPP OR SH BJUST HAS THOSE STUPID FUCKING DINOSAUR COSTUMSS THE
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she would stand over the fucking bed in one of these late at night while ur trynna relax bruhh like "babe, give me attention!!" or "the dinosaur costume stays on during sex." but ITS FUCKIN TERRYFYING HAHUUHA
and then for the space ornamentation and theme i can see like those stupid little devices that cast stars onto the ceiling. always puts it on at night literally cause she prbly has insomnia and can;t sleep so she just counts the stars and whatnot. oh and glow and the dark space stickers. i have those. im a space whore too my rooms just leaning more whimsical and hers more sciencey. probably trudged an entire catalog to find a cheap telescope she can set up for fun.
bro probably has a big dinosaur plushie that she cuddles n ur like "ok whatever." accompanied by an eye roll n then randomly 30 mins down the line she chucks that damned thing and settles on wrapping her body around u, whispering "jus' not the same.." with a husky chuckle brushing ur nape.
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