#they’re whole greeting was so funny

[theamazingannie]

Xanthi and Brett fangirling over Shubby is probably the highlight of the season

#the circle #the circle netflix #and Shubby being like ‘big brother?!’ #they’re whole greeting was so funny #Xanthi just SCREAMING about him being Shubby #I love her #she and Brett are such an interesting duo #I’d be very surprised to find out they didn’t at least hook up after filming was done #gonna have to go stalk all of their social medias now #the only one I’ve found so far is raven’ Twitter cuz it appeared on my feed #so hopefully I get more that come across to make my job easier

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

[ireneaesthetic]

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

library scene • episode 1

their expressions softening and smiles growing bigger as soon as their eyes meet. oh the effect of each other’s presence!!!

wille's staring contest and the lip bite while approaching give off so much confidence. he leans in for the kiss like it's all he's been waiting for - everyone is watching and yet he sees and cares about anyone anything but simon.

simon dives into the kiss just as quickly. it starts out as shyyy but you can see the tension easing through his body language.

it’s a second first kiss for them in a way bc it's their first public one: the thrill, the excitement, the butterflies - it's all there. for this huge step to come from wille makes it even more special.

it’s a super tender kiss, with simon’s hand ending up on wille’s chest. background noises fading away to enhance the sound of their lips is so on point: none of that truly matters bc in this moment it's - them.

first they kiss and then greet with a proper hej *giggling*.

lip biting is serious business in this scene. simon's shows a lot of embarrassment tho - he comes out of their own bubble and suddenly becomes very aware of people's chatter.

shoutout to felice and maddie in the background not giving a damn about it ahsjsj.

wille pulling simon by the hand in such a hurry is funny and so him. he literally says 'ok folks you've seen enough, i want him just for myself now'.

ugh i love parallels in this show sooo much. they alone tell the whole story!

same spot but different point in their relationship: so distant in s2 - both physically/emotionally - and couldn't be seen or heard so they were hyper attentive; deeply connected on all levels in s3 instead, the focus is solely on each other, reaching for comfort by holding hands. the coloring tells the same plot too: cold and dull tones first but much warmer ones in s3.

simon side eyeing the hallway but turning to wille is enough to reassure him and ease the discomfort.

hands intertwined with the key chain in such a ‘fuck 'em, this is about us’ way is a genius move.

wille’s whole posture is extremely relaxed - one arm behind his back, the other hand holding simon’s, his legs crossed. it’s a breath of fresh air to finally see him acting this loose and unbothered around people. he's also the one who helps simon feeling much more comfortable here too.

not much to point out, i just needed to gif simon’s bambi eyes and wilhelm being mesmerized by his face.

hela terminen's line delivery is honestly *chef’s kiss*. they care to keep their voices low throughout the scene and then -

i have a thing for height difference so this shot is everything to me. it's peak head over heels boyfriends behavior!

wilhelm is stronger than me bc i would've kissed simon right on the spot if he tilted his head up like that.

shhh they’re cuddling.

the forehead touch with closed eyes and content smiles. this is basically what i've always loved the most about them - the state of pure bliss they're in only when with each other.

simon's eyes on him while wille is still keeping his eyes closed, slowly pulling away, to enjoy the moment a little longer.

simon's attention directed towards wille and the linked hands. it must feel the best kind of weird to experience the freedom of doing couple-things publicly - people's scrutiny no longer being something they have to hide from.

#young royals #young royals analysis #yr s3 #library scene #wilhelm x simon #wilmon

[ebony-blood]

Poly!The Lost Boys x Reader 

Warnings/AN: They’re a packaged deal, ofc you’re getting all four. Yandere/obsessive stuff because they’re just like that. I tried to be as gender-neutral as possible, lemme know if I need to fix anything.

You have been in Santa Carla for about a year now, you wanna know how long it took for the boys to fall for you? 2 months

Paul fell first, bro spent a whole 2 hours daily rambling to Marko about how much he loved you, how perfect you were in his eyes, how cute you were…

Gender doesn’t matter to these rat bastards, you’re still Paul’s Cutie

Marko fell next, listening to Paul rant about your utter perfection, thus, he started believing you were an angel, literally an angel.

And that’s when the two boys started stalking you, following you around the boardwalk and practically growling at anyone that approached, male, female, whatever

Paul practically has heart eyes every time he sees you, every single time.

Dwayne is next, and he falls WAY harder than the other two

Mr. Tall, dark and handsome over here will follow you home daily, he waits for nightfall and comes out to see you, when he’s not with his brothers, he’s around you.

He may as well be lying on a bed, writing in a notebook about how much he loves you, giggling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl

So, the three that AREN’T David fall in love with you in two months, David followed shortly behind, and only a month after Dwayne fell, David was fucking INFATUATED.

He has it BAD, like, god, it’s even worse than his brothers.

Eventually, all four of the boys decide they wanna talk to you, and goddammit the minute you open your mouth they’re even more in love with you. 

And so, they start leaving you anonymous gifts, roses, jewelry, Marko paints for you, anything they can think of, they’ll steal it and leave it on your porch. 

It took a few months, but when you realized they were giving you the gifts, you started hanging out with them more, and soon, you were taken to the cave.

They loved you, obviously.

It took almost no time for you to fall for their silly personalities, and that was when they knew they had you.

They became protective, but not outwardly obsessive.

At least, you thought so. 

After they started dating you, they started getting worse in their stalking.

They had a system, every other week, sometimes months between instances, one of them would silently stalk you, keeping hidden in the dark, and one or two of them would pretend to bump into you when you start freaking out.

You were always too freaked out to ask how they were there.

You found out they were vampires when you caught them killing and feeding on a guy who had been actually stalking you. You were freaked out at first.

Eventually, David managed to calm you, promising they would never hurt or kill you.

Now that we’re past all the meetings, falling, stalking, and so on, here’s the actual cute stuff. 

Paul and Marko

These rat fucks are literally never not by your side. 

They bite you, randomly grab you, kiss you, just whenever they want, it doesn’t matter. 

Both boys steal things from you, all the time

Clothes, blankets, stuffed animals, books, your perfume/cologne/body spray, makeup if you wear it, whatever they can get their hands on, it’s with them.

You slowly start noticing them wearing your clothes, your perfume/cologne/body spray, and you ask about it. They always deny having it.

If you wear it, they put on your lipstick or lipgloss before they kiss you, because they think it's funny. 

Paul started trying to get you to smoke with him. 

Marko paints you like constantly, and anytime he catches you watching or looking at him, he has the most lovestruck and goofy look on his face.

Both fantasize about you 24/7 and just bounce stuff off of each other. 

They definitely bite you the most

65% of the bitemarks on you are from them, and 35% are from the other two boys.

Cuddle you the most.

Tease you the most

Teasing nips are greetings to them

Both have very little consistency in pet names for you, they just pick whatever.

Dwayne

The sweetest, and the biggest stalker ever.

Bro follows you around constantly. 

He doesn’t allow you to ride on the back of Paul and Marko's bikes, it's either him or David.

Holds your hands all the time

Gives you his jacket all the time.

You get cold? Take his jacket. Getting outta the ocean after Paul tossed you in? Take his jacket.

Smiles every time he sees you. 

Also takes your perfume/cologne/body spray, sprays himself down, and snuggles into clothes you wear he stole when he wanted to snuggle with you.

Acts totally normal around you but is a giggly schoolgirl when talking about you with the boys.

Brings you food and drinks daily, if he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten, you bet your ass he’s bringing you food.

About 15% of your bites are from him. 

Constantly makes sure you care for yourself.

Not into PDA but will hold your hands daily.

Bro has a mix of songs that reminds him of you.

Calls you stuff like Darling and Honey, he just gives those vibes.

David

OHHHH DEAR GOD-

David is worse than Dwayne, Marko, and Paul combined.

Stalks you, constantly, and he always makes sure you know he’s there.

Sassy, sarcastic, an asshole, we know this, but this carries over to you too.

Bro sasses you all the time.

Dude treats you like he treated Star, bro will just stare at you, if you don’t respond or do as he’s implying, he just calls your name again, and again, until he eventually just snaps in your face, not shouting, but literally snapping.

Nips at your ears, neck, and shoulders

Teases you, all the time, constantly for no reason. Like if you trip bro is laughing and he doesn’t even help your ass up. 

He does care though, he loves you so SO much.

The dude actually takes his damn gloves off to touch you sometimes! That NEVER happens!

Isn’t into PDA, at all, his hands stay securely in your back pockets or with his fingers through your belt loops, you are not leaving his side, if he isn’t around you bet your ass you’re sticking with Dwayne.

Will randomly give you things, Bro gave you one of his old tee shirts and he gets very pouty if you don’t wear it around.

He is not a sweet boy, but also a sweet guy, if you wear down his walls and wiggle your way into his heart, you will NEVER leave.

He’s terrified of being alone, if you leave for even a second, the man almost melts down. 

Calls you stuff like Babe, Baby, and Doll, doll is used no matter your gender, he won’t stop.

One more because our first one for Davie here also brings you food but fucks with you like he did with Micheal. He does keep extras if you actually freak out about it but after a certain point in your time with the boys, you start leaning into the goofiness. 

All four of them

Only a few here.

The boys are cuddlers, if they stay with you in your house, (You have blackout curtains) they are wrapped around you, Paul and Marko are damn well laying on top of you.

Will scream at any bastard on the boardwalk that even LOOKS at you wrong.

They fight anyone at all, for any reason, for everything, at all for you.

These nerds rant about everything they love, David will scream about how much he loves Billy Idol at any time, Marko talks about art all the damn time, Paul will just rant about how fucking much he loves guitarists like Mick Mars, Ace Frehley, and Eddie Van Halen, and Dwayne talks about books. All four always have stars in their eyes when talking, it's so cute. 

The rats started rubbing off on you, you’re crazy now, you ride bikes, and you yell, and scream with all of the boys.

When they do turn you, it amplifies by 20.

Your favorite activity is hanging off the bridge with the boys and biking. 

You eventually get your own, they were hesitant, but eh.

They love biking with you, and then you all either hang from the wood beams while sleeping or snuggle up in your bed and sleep peacefully. You wearing one of their jackets of course.

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys #tlb x reader #tlb 1987 #tlb david x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb marko x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #marko tlb #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb

[heartthrobin]

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

-

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

-

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

-

taglist:

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#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #khonshu #steven grant x female reader #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #moonknight fic #moonknight #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #jake lockely x you #jake lockely imagine #jake lockely x reader

[causeilikelix]

new to the blog but abt those felix throughts 😍😍 felix whos so tired of the members calling him innocent and babying him. yea its nice from time to time but hes a grown man ! so he goes 100% hard dom on you just so your moans can be heard in the dorm 🫣 also he would totally cover you in bite marks and hickeys just so he can get his point across to his group 💕

now THAT's what I'm taking about skhsfdlkfjsdlkfj

Like we all know that Felix is a lil guy with too much love in his body but soft =/= sub. He's a man very comfortable in his identity and the power he holds over you. Felix just wants to make his baby feel good but he also wants to prove a point...

Smut and warnings below the cut. MINORS DNI!!!!!!

↳  Words - 2.7k (and some change)

↳Warnings: SMUT duh, Soft!Dom Felix (I'm still getting used to writing Hard!Dom anyone) and a tough of Hard!Dom Lix at the end, afab!reader, relatively vanilla, fingering (f receiving), P in V, unprotected sex (don't), multiple orgasms, exhibitionism?, hickeys

You loved his innocent vibe!  You really did!  His angelic smile and his sweet words and actions is what drew you to him in the first place.  He was nothing but romantic and sweet all the time.  The best communicator, respectful of your boundaries, always treated you like a princess.  Honestly everyone needs their own personal Felix!!

But he’s tired.  He can’t help it.  All of his friends baby him so much!  Like Changbin said himself, Felix is happiness personified!  But enough is enough.  His sweet exterior is giving him a reputation he doesn’t want.  When his friends talk about their sex lives, they always make these jokes that Felix must be a little pillow prince who takes what he’s given and lets his partner take the lead.  In fact, his friends bet, he’s as innocent as can be and maybe you and him don’t even have sex at all!

He’s still grumbly about it when you get to the dorm one night, just to spend a little time together in between schedules.  He greets you with his normal warm hug and a sweet peck but you can sense something is off.  

Initially you stay in the living room to continue watching the movie the other guys are watching.  It’s some action film you couldn’t give two shits about.  Your legs are swung over Felix’s lap and he’s gently massaging your calves and thighs while he stares at the screen.  You can hear a few of the other guys snickering but you can’t make out what they’re saying.  When you glance at Felix, his eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is set.  Honestly it’s kind of hot and makes heat pool between your legs.  Let’s be honest though…. It’s Felix.  Almost everything he does can get you wet.

The boys laugh again and you note that it’s during a not particularly funny part of the movie.  This is where Felix breaks.  He pushes your legs off him and grabs your hand.

“Come on, babe, this isn’t very interesting.  Let’s go to my room.”  Felix whispered to you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

Your body immediately went hot and you had a feeling you knew what was on his mind.  He dragged you to his room and tossed the door shut behind him. 

His hands were cupping your face and pulling you into a deep kiss before the latch had fully closed.  You could simply melt into his kisses.  They always were deep and full of every ounce of love in his body.  Tonight, however, his lips were urgent and demanding. 

“I need you baby, please.”  He whispered against your mouth.  The need to show his friends that he wasn’t a little boy anymore coursed through him, but he would stop if you gave the word.

“Lix, I need you too.”  You managed out between kisses, “But what about the guys?  They’re right outside and-”

“Remember what we talked about last month?”  Felix kissed down your neck and pushed you back towards the bed. 

How could you forget?  Most of the time you and Felix had sex it was very mutual.  You didn’t do a whole lot of powerplay.  Maybe a sprinkling here and there when the situation was right, but Felix loved it when sex was a mutual expression of love.  A few weeks ago he asked you about exploring power play a little more and maybe experimenting with some kinks.  One of them was being listened to.  Not necessarily the real thing, but pretending like someone could walk in on you at any moment. 

With the boys right down the hall, that one held more risk than normal. 

“You wanna try it?”  You asked.  The back of your knees caught on the edge of the bed and you sat down.  Felix weaved his fingers through your hair and bent down to kiss you.  You parted your knees instinctively and Felix settled between them. 

With him above you like this, you felt small under him.  The thrill it gave you made your heart speed up.  You gripped his slim waist to pull him closer. 

“I want them to hear you while I fuck you dumb,” Felix’s voice dropped and octave.  It sent a shiver down your spine.  You always loved it when he got like this.  When he got too horny, his voice dropped and it made you wet in an instant.

Felix’s hands made quick work of your clothes.  He wasted no time in getting you naked, leaving your top and jeans in a pile on the floor.  Even though you hadn’t expected to have sex on this visit, you still wore one of your cuter underwear sets.   Baby pink with a little bit of lace at the top of the cups of the bra and the top of the panties, made even more innocent by a tiny rose in the center of both pieces. 

Felix swallowed thickly at the sight.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”  Felix whispered.  He maneuvered you onto the bed and hovered over you.  You clawed at his shirt, urging him to take it off.  He smirked and tugged it off.  “Just say the word and I’ll stop, okay?  Until then you're going to let me do whatever I want with you, right baby?”

“Yes, baby.”  You nodded in understanding.

You groaned at the sight of his chiseled chest.  Those gorgeous, defined ab muscles and his perfect little pink nipples made your mouth water.  Everything about him was beautiful from his head to his toes.  Not to mention his cock.  Speaking of, you wanted to see it immediately.  You tried to reach for his pants but he grabbed your wrists and shoved you back against the bed. 

“No touching without permission, got it baby?”  He cooed, “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you.  I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?  It doesn’t take much to get my baby worked up.”

Felix slipped his hand into your underwear and seemed unfazed by the amount of slick in your panties.  To be honest, you thought that there should have been more.  The sudden show of power had your cunt gushing and clenching around nothing and you needed him inside you, um, yesterday. 

“Felix, please!”  You cried, pushing your hips up into his hand.  His digits rubbed small, slow circles on your clit.  Just enough to feel good but not enough to actually get anywhere. 

“What do you want, baby?  Good girls use their words.”  Felix chided, his fingers slipping lower to tap against your entrance but not going in. 

“I want you to touch me!  Please!”  You kept your voice quiet so that no one outside the door could hear you, but that wasn’t what Felix wanted. 

“You want me to touch you?  Alright, baby, I’m feeling nice today.”  Felix kept his eyes on your face as he slipped two of his fingers into your tight hole with basically no resistance.  He watched as your face screwed up in pleasure and your lips parted in a silent moan.  “Come on you can do better than that.”

With that, Felix pumped his fingers into you.  Quick thrusts wouldn’t get him where he wanted to go so he opted for long, deep strokes that pressed the pads of his fingers onto that special spot he’d found a few weeks ago.  The ball of his hand pressed deliciously against your clit with every thrust.  You swallowed a moan and turned your head to press your face into your arm to help silence yourself. 

At this, Felix threw three quick thrusts of his fingers into you.

“Uh uh,” he chided, “I want to hear those beautiful noises of yours, baby.  Let me know how good I’m making you feel, yeah?”

He pressed a few more deep and precise thrusts into you and this time you complied with a long, drawn out moan.  Felix grinned.  He continued like this for a few minutes, pressing his fingers in as deep as possible.  He resorted to pressing his hand against your clit and his fingers massaging that spot within you. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.  You’re drenching my fingers already.  I can’t wait until you cream my cock, baby.  Keep moaning, just like that.”

He has you clenching and cumming on his fingers in seconds.  It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets your thighs shaking.  You’re moaning so loudly that you’re certain that the others can hear you.  Felix smiles through the whole thing.  His eyes are dark as he watches you cum just from his fingers. 

“Good girl, there it is.  Let’s see if you can take my cock, yeah?”

“Please.”  You moan loudly. 

Felix pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss.  He pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere in the room.  Next he strips from the rest of his clothes and his cock slaps against his stomach.  Precum pearled at his tip and your mouth watered.  You longed to take him in your mouth and suck him until he came but he had other plans.

“Hands and knees.  Now.”  Felix demands.  He pumps his cock a few times to make sure he’s hard enough.  How could he not be, though, as he watches you climb onto your hands and knees and present your ass and your glistening hole to him.  He leans over you and brushes his cock along your swollen folds.  “Good girl.  God, you have the most perfect ass…”  Felix palmed it appreciatively before pulling his hand back and landing a firm slap on the flesh.

“Fellix!”  you gasped when he landed a second slap.  

“That’s right, baby, remember who’s name you’re screaming when I make you cum.”  Felix’s deep voice rumbles. 

He lined up his tip at your entrance and rubbed it through your folds a few times, reveling in the way he could make you shiver every time his cock grazed your over-sensitive clit.  When you least expected it, Felix pushed his cock into your tight, warm cunt.  You both moaned out in unison when he bottomed out.  His long, thick cock filled you up perfectly.  It was as if your pussy was designed for him.  Felix swore that he could spend the rest of his life between your legs.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you, darling?”

With that, he began thrusting.  Sometimes adjusting to someone’s cock in you is a thing of myth.  You can never get used to how perfectly he fills you up.  It may not be the longest, but it’s thick and it stretches you more than anything or anyone else ever has.  His cock has a perfect little curve to it that hits that little spot inside you whenever he angles his hips just right. 

Tonight, he’s determined to get all of the sounds out of you that he can.  So every single thrust is designed to do just that.  He shoves himself into your snug heat as deep as he can go every single time.  It’s like you can feel him in your throat.  Every thrust pushes his hips flush with your ass.  He takes a hand and presses on your back to push your chest onto the bed.  

“Fuuuuuck baby, you feel so good.”  Felix moaned, “Always so warm and tight for me, baby.”

“You feel so good inside of me,”  You moan back, struggling to get your words out between Felix’s rough thrusts, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Come on, moan for me baby, show them how good I make you feel.”

As if you had a choice.  His thrusts were hard and he shifted his hips until his tip speared into that spot over and over again.  Felix had found that spot by chance a few weeks ago when he was fingering you and now he made it a point to seek it out every time.  

Felix’s hand curled around your bodies and his fingers made contact with your clit immediately.  At this, you keened and let out the loudest moan of the night.  Your cunt clamped onto Felix’s cock and he bit his lip to keep from cumming right there.  Your tight, wet heat eas driving him crazy but you had to cum first.  

He could have sworn that the TV volume lowered.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”  Felix grunted, his finger swirling around your swollen clit.

Your walls clenched and fluttered around him.  Something in your belly pulled taut and you rocked yourself back on Felix’s cock.  The extra bit of friction made the coil pull tight.  You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to let your body relax so that Felix could take over and bring you to orgasm.  Your moans grew louder and louder as you got closer.

“Yes, yes, yes!”  You cried, “Fuck, Felix!  Right there!”

“That’s a good girl, cream my cock, baby.”  

The sound of the TV in the front room had stopped all together.

The extra pressure of you pushing back onto his cock was just the right thing.  The intense pressure in your stomach suddenly released all at once.  Your legs trembled and your body shook.  Felix took over and gripped your hips tightly.  He slowly guided your hips down towards the bed so you were laying flat, continuing his intense thrusts into your cunt.  He leaned over you and pressed his lips to the back of your neck. 

“Felix, don’t stop,”  you moaned, arching your back into him to keep his dick lodged inside you as deep as possible.  

Your orgasm washed over you in waves, each one resulting in a gush of wetness between your legs.  His hips kept drilling into you diligently.  He kissed along your shoulders and neck, sucking dark marks onto your skin.  The second you rolled over, he’d give you hickeys on your neck and breasts to match these.

When he sensed your orgasm coming to an end, he slowed his hips but kept his cock lodged within your tight walls.  He hadn’t come yet but he knew he had to give you a short break before he sought his own orgasm. 

“Was I loud enough?”  You giggled,  “What was that about?”

“The guys were making fun of me, saying things like… I couldn’t be a dom because I’m too innocent, that I’m just a pillow prince and I let you do all the work.”  Felix peppered soft kisses on your skin. 

“That’s not it at all baby!  We just like sex to be reciprocal, that’s all.”

“I know, but I guess I needed a little ego boost.”  Felix shrugged.

“Well if I get to come like that every time we need an ego boost, by all means,”  You giggled, rubbing your ass back into him and making his cock slide against your puffy walls, making you both gasp.  “I think you could stand to be a little meaner, though.”

“What?  You want me to be mean to you?”  Felix stared at you with large eyes.

“Maybe a little more.”

“Oh, so you want me to call you my own little personal slut?”  Felix whispered in your ear.  That tantalizing voice of his made your cunt clench on him.  “Oh so you would like that?  I should have known you’d be a little cock-hungry slut.  Can’t go a single day without my cock in you, is that it?”

“Mmhm…”  You nodded, eyes suddenly a little teary but in the best way.  You pushed your hips back against his again.  He groaned and pressed a hand to your hip to stop your movements.

“If you keep going like that I’m gonna treat you like a little cocksleeve, got it?  I’ll stuff you with enough cum to keep you full for weeks.  You want that, baby?”

“God, yes,” your eyes rolled back at the thought of feeling even fuller than you were now.

“Then relax, my pretty slut, we’re just getting started.”  Felix growled. 

His hand slipped under you to press lightly against your tummy, the pressure pushing your g-spot effortlessly against the tip of his cock.  He’d hardly have to aim at all like this.  You let out a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll fill you up ‘til your cute little cunt can’t handle it anymore.  M’ cum is all yours.”

#felix smut #lee felix smut #yongbok smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee yongbok smut #felix lee smut #ellie writes #PHEW #an ask! #i got carried away with this one #meant to be like 10 paragraphs but its now liek five pages #i don;t have time for the other asks tonight but #i am getting to them #fuck felix is so hot #thank you so much for the ask

[pandoraslxna]

hi!! ur jake x tonowari fic got me thinking like ive been thinking abt ur writing for days.

imagine the both got back from an unsuccessful hunt together and the reader asked them if they needed any help after the hunt and they were like "yes 😈" and just hardcore smut

Stress relief

Jake Sully x female reader x Tonowari

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, mmf threesome, oral, p in v, pandoras mighty dilfs in action, rough sex, cum swallowing, poly relationship, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, kinda forced orgasm, spit roasting, squirting, praise kink, use of 'sir’, slight degradation kink too if you squint

Notes: I’m using that gif purely bc jake looks like he’s fucking someone and Tonowari talks them through it— 😩 (pls make sure to reblog, I feel like this is gonna get shadowbanned too)

You’ve been waiting for them inside your marui pod patiently. The hours have passed painful slow without them and it’s not until the eclipse had started, that two familiar Na‘vi return to your shared home. Immediately, you jump to your feet to greet them happily, but the expressions on their faces are everything but. That could’ve mean only one thing.

"What’s wrong? Didn’t catch anything today?", you ask them carefully, while the both set away their weapons, spear and bow. Tonowari purses his lips before he speaks with a sigh, "No, the Srakats were especially tough today."

"Don’t be disappointed", you smile at him gently, "I‘m sure you‘ll catch one next time."

Jake passes you to stow away some other things, but before he does, he leaves a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You should’ve seen us though, we put up one hell of a fight with those things." He’s says it so half heartedly, seemingly trying to cheer up the mood but still, your smile drops. They’ve been talking about nothing else than this hunt since yesterday, were gone for the whole day and are now probably very exhausted too, it’s no wonder they were frustrated. You can’t help but feel bad for them.

"Is there anything I can do to make you both feel better?" The question is innocent. You’ve been thinking about cooking them their favorite meal, you’re pretty sure you still have some meat stored, but with the way the two of them instantly look at each other… you could’ve only guessed that’s not what they have in mind.

Tonowari slowly closes the gap between you and him, his board arms circling your smaller frame and pulling close into a hug. You sigh against his warm skin, your big, oblivious eyes looking up at him through long lashes.

"I think there’s a thing or two you could do about that", he says slyly and your eyebrows rise. Behind you, you can hear Jake chuckle, "He’s been talking about nothing else all day. I’d say it’s partly your fault too, that he was so unfocused and we didn’t catch anything."

"M-My fault?", you blink at him over your shoulder and Jake hums in agreement. "You had him all hard and desperate, daydreaming about that cute little pussy aaall day." At his words, you swallow thickly and your gaze switches from Jake back to Tonowari.

"If I remember correctly, you were the one to plant such thoughts in my head in the first place", he chuckles, "Talking about all the things you were going to do to her once we‘re back. All that talking scared away the Srakats!"

You giggle at the way they’re teasing each other and suddenly, both pair of eyes land on you. "What’s so funny, sweetheart?", Jake tilts his head and you bite on your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. He looks at you for a moment, eyes roaming over you body as he licks hip lips and crosses his muscular arms over his chest.

"Undress", Jake orders you with a stern look on his face. You’re dumbfounded for a second, like you’re frozen in place. But then Jake raises his eyebrows, prompting, and immediately you get to work, undressing yourself. You’re clumsy as you do, hurriedly untying your loincloth, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process and when it comes to your top, you struggle with the clasp. "A little faster than that, bunny. We don’t have all day. Unless you want me to rip it off of you, hm?" Quickly, you shake your head. You’ve spent way too many hours weaving that top, just for Jake to destroy it because he was too impatient.

The two tall Na‘vi stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your hands begin to tremble. Still, you somehow manage to finally get your top off and it falls to the ground next to your feet. Now you stand there, awkward and completely bare before them, obediently waiting for your next order.

You could feel their eyes on you and the whole situation made you feel insanely excited. In their minds, they were already touching, kissing, licking and biting on every part of skin they could see. You squirm a little and clench you thighs together, eager for them to make it happen. Tonowari then reaches out and gently brushes a thumb over your cheek and you close your eyes and lean into it, sighing. "Get on your hands and knees for me, will you do that?"

Oh he didn’t had to tell you twice.

Heat floods your cheeks as you drop to your knees, almost embarrassingly fast and Tonowari chuckles at the sight. Like this, you were almost eye level with his crotch and the bulge forming right under his loincloth was speaking for itself, proving to you, that what they had told you was true. He wanted you. So bad.

Tonowari steps closer and like this, you had to crane your neck to look at his face. The metkayina strokes your hair gently before guiding your small hands to the piece of clothing covering his crotch. Getting the hint, you make quick work of untying his loincloth. Once his clothing falls to the ground and his cock springs free, you gulp audibly. The hand that had been caressing your head then moves, his thumb slides over your bottom lip ever so slowly before he slips his digit into your mouth. He traces the edges of your teeth. "Remember, good girls don’t use their teeth", he smiles down at you and you nod, eagerly.

Your hands then reach out to touch his cock. It twitches in your palms, too big for you to close your hands entirely around it. The realization alone made you feel uneasy and heat pools from your core and smears between your clenched thighs. Experimentally, you squeeze and stroke him before Tonowari guides your head closer, until he could feel your warm breath on the tip of his cock. First, you press a small kiss on top of it and Tonowari can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, as you let saliva pool in your mouth and then stick your tongue out and let it drip down onto his tip. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva. You continue with dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick and he groans, relishing in the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.

Those licks and kisses felt good, incredible even, but they were not nearly enough, not for how hard he was. But Tonowari was a patient man.

You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock. Tonowaris hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a groan. He tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole village to hear.

Jake on the hand wasn’t exactly known for being very patient. The only times when he would willingly take it slow with you and show patient was, when he was teasing you.

Behind your back, you could hear him move. You can’t really see him like this, but you know he’s there, settling himself behind you. With a hand on your back he helps you in position –one hand on the floor and the other resting on Tonowari‘s strong thigh. With his own, he nudges your legs apart and makes room for him to kneel between them, so your bottom was hovering over his lap. His hands roam over your body, kneading your breasts and stroking over your back, where he then leaves wet kisses and love bites behind.

"Where do you want me, sweet girl?", he whispers and his breath against the wet spots, where he had kissed you on your spine, make goosebumps appear on your skin, "Inside that cute ass? Or that tight little pussy of yours, hm?"

You exhale a shaky breath, lips still close to the head of Tonowari’s cock as you answer him, "Inside my… my pussy, please." Your wish is answered by a dark chuckle coming from behind you and two large hands begin to spread your soft folds, revealing your entrance to him. "Can’t deny such a filthy request coming from such a pretty girl", he hums.

With his cock in hand, Jake carefully prods himself against your wet opening. "Focus on me", Tonowari tells you right before Jake pushes the head of his cock inside. You gasp as he stretches you, sinking into you ever so carefully and slow. It still stings, thanks to his inhuman size and girth. "It’s okay, just breathe", Tonowari coos above you, holding your head in his big palms, "You’re doing so well, so good for him. He’s almost in."

When Jake had finally, finally, thank eywa, bottomed out, with every merciless inch of his cock shoved deep inside you, you moan, already close to coming. The sound was heavenly to their ears and Jake can’t help it when he presses his hips even tighter against yours. You could feel the tip of his cock against your cervix and then a small sob escapes your lips. You clench around him as your first orgasm takes over you so unexpectedly fast. "Fucking hell, she’s coming already", Jake pants behind you, the grip he had on your hips increases, "That pussy of yours, jesus fuck! Sweetheart, you’re gonna be the death of me."

Jake allows your body a few seconds to adjust and brace yourself, before he pulls himself out all the way and then snaps his hips forward, pushing inside you in one go. The way his waist collides with your bottom emerges a loud and obscene smack and you whimper.

Tonowari in front of you was still patient. With his hands, he holds your head up, gives you enough leverage so you don’t fall face first against the floor. He enjoys watching you fall apart on Jakes cock with only a few of his thrusts. But his cock hangs heavy in the hair, leaking pre-cum and desperately waiting for you to continue where you had stopped.

"Go on, baby. Wouldn’t be very nice of you to leave that big boy hanging, hm?", Jake muses when he recognizes the look on the metkayina‘s face. "Y-Yes, sir." Obediently, you place your plump lips over the very tip of Tonowaris cock, tongue poking the salty slit, and his mouth falls open.

Yours does too, just a moment later when you hollow your cheeks and take him further into your mouth, just barely a few more inches. His hips were trembling with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat. Thankfully, a few especially hard thrusts of Jake had you take him even further inside, until you were gagging around him and could feel your second orgasm approach almost too fast for you to fully prepare yourself. You gag again as his thrusts push you further on Tonowari’s cock and you moan around him, loud and wanton and then you cum for the second time.

"That’s it, that’s the sound I wanna hear", Jake groans behind you

To the rhythm of Jake thrusts, you bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of Tonowari. He’s so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, the size difference was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick and with your small hands, you stroke every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.

The sensation of hands all over you was overwhelming. Tonowari held your head up, one of his hands mindlessly stroking through your hair and holding them out of your face. Behind you was Jake, his tail affectionately wrapped around your thigh, while his hands were roaming all over your body. He switched between kneading your ass, to tugging on your sensitive nipples or simply holding your hips in a hard grip as he thrusts into you. You could feel your walls tighten once again, sucking him even further in, in an attempt to keep him there and when Jake brushes against your g-spot particularly hard, you fall apart again. This time, your legs almost give out under you and you’re glad for all the hands holding you steady.

Your eyes roll all the way back inside your head and you dare to close them for a brief moment and let yourself be taken over by the sensations, letting more drool collect in your mouth, to cover the cock that was sliding in and out alongside your tongue, and drip out the side of your mouth. "Open your eyes, little one", Tonowari groans above you and its followed by a throaty chuckle, "Can’t have you pass out on my cock."

You look up at him, tears picking at the corner of your eyes and you hum around his length, in place of a verbal response.

Your eyes widen even more, when you suddenly feel a pair over fingers glide between your folds and expertly find your clit.

"How many times did you come last night?", Jake asks so bluntly and unbothered, like he wasn’t currently fucking the very soul out of you. You can barely hear him over your own moans and the obscene sounds of you sucking Tonowari off. When Jake circles that little nub, you can slowly feel the familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core. Again.

"Hey, I asked you a question", he says sternly with a rough tap of his fingers to your clit, to which your knees buckle. You let your tongue glide along the underside of Tonowari’s cock as you slide him out of your mouth, the tip of it leaving your plump and spit slicked lips with a soft pop.

"Two or… or, oh fuck, three, I– I don't remember, sir", you manage to respond between heavy pants and moans and just to be mean, Jake circles your clit even faster. He was incapable of being as gentle as he wanted to be, as he needed to be, but the way you flourished beneath his rough touch, how you forced yourself to take more of both of their cocks into your tight little holes, undid him.

"Good. We‘ll make it four today, cupcake."

"Fuck Jake, I– I can’t take it, please that’s too much, can’t, I can’t!"

"You can, little one", Tonowari reassures you softly. With his thick cock in hand, he gently nudges the tip of it against your swollen lips, urging you to take him inside your mouth again and you despite your whining, you don’t hesitate to do so. "See? You’re always such a good girl for us. You can take it, I know you can."

"You really think we're that dense, don't you?” Jake tsks. The resentment in his tone doesn't match the amusement creeping into the edges of his features. "I think we know best what our precious girl is capable of, right? Think we know that sweet body of yours better than you do.” He tilts his head as if he's observing a rare specimen, his attention fixed on the way your soft, round cheeks jiggle with every thrust of his hips. He angles his own hips to brush against your g-spot expertly, while he rolls your slick covered clit in between his rough fingers. You moan around Tonowari’s cock so loud, they knew without doubt that even the last villager now knew what was going on in the olo’eyktan’s marui. And so, the knot inside your lower abdomen snaps. You come again, with a gush of slickness this time, that’s then slowly dripping down your thighs.

“Yeah, that does it every time", Jake groans as he feels you clench around him in a bruising grip. You steady yourself on Tonowari’s thigh, nails digging into his skin as a rush of pleasure surges through you the way waves crash on the shore —and that’s all it takes for him to cum, the vibrations of your moans around him sending him clean over the edge.

The olo’eyktan shudders, fist clenched tightly in your hair as he feels you swallow it all, throat folding around his cock. The motion itself makes him moan, praises as well as curses falling from his lips that you barely pick up over the sound of Jakes hips still snapping against yours. Slowly, he pulls away from your swollen, wet and reddened lips.

"I’m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Gonna fill you up all the way and– fuck, you better keep it in there until I’ll fill you up again", Jake pants and his rhythm slowly begins to falter. You do your best to squeeze around him, pull him in and hold him right there until he can merely pull out of you for more than a few inches and his thrusts become short and deep and desperate.

Until all Jake feels is heat, that incredibly tight heat that squeezes and sucks him in, with the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard– and he’s done for. He’s flooding your core with warmth as he thrusts up into you, hard, for the final time. With a bruising grip on your hips, he holds you there and fills you up, until it leaks around his cock and flows down your thighs.

You nearly sob when he pulls away, leaving you feeling exposed and empty. An ache begins to settle over you as you come down from your high. Right when your legs finally give in on yourself, you feel a pair of big muscular arms lay themselves around you and suddenly, your face is pressed against a hard chest and legs swung around someone’s waist. "Good girl, did so well for us", Tonowari coos and you could feel the deep vibration of his voice inside his chest. You lazily throw your arms around his neck and burry your face in the space of his neck, before you close your eyes with a sigh. Behind you, Jake places soft kisses on your shoulder, right after you’ve felt the warmth of his body closing in against your back.

"I knew you could do it, baby. I‘m so proud of you", Jake hums against your skin and their soft praises slowly loll you to sleep, hugged tight in their arms. In the back of your mind, you were already excitingly thinking about the outcome of their next hunt. Was it mean to wish for another unsuccessful hunt again?

Well. May Eywa forgive you.

#avatar 2 #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #awow #atwow #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x reader #jake sully x tonowari x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x you #jake sully x female reader #jake sully #tonowari x reader #tonowari #Jake x Tonowari x reader #avatar jake #avatar tonowari #na’vi reader #metkayina #metkayina reader #･ ｡ﾟ☆: *my works* :☆ﾟ.

[sommerregenjuniluft]

@jegulus-microfic feb 26 - bed - 1047words - cw: drinking—aka reg picking up a drunk james from the pub<3

for laurie @itsjaywalkers because she's a gem and also i was listening to wallows typing this out mwah

James wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye as he straightens back up, belly hurting and cheeks straining as he claps Peter on the shoulder, laughing and shaking with his whole body.

His head feels pleasantly heavy and his vision is a little blurry, alcohol warming him up from the inside and James thinks Peter isn’t far off with the way the flush on his red cheeks starts spreading along his entire face as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Oh god,” James snickers, sucking in a much needed breath, chortling slightly on the way in which makes Peter send him a weird look and then in return makes James break into another fit of giggles. Everything is just so funny right now.

Peter joins right in, while simultaneously trying to take another sip of his nearly empty cup of beer, his laughter preventing him from actually swallowing. 

Predictably, he ends up coughing and James pounds him on the back with one hand as the other maintains a white knuckled grip on the round bar table to keep himself upright as he tries not to piss his pants from laughing.

Once Peter got himself back in order he clears his throat violently, warily eyeing his remaining beverage, “Shit, I don’t think I should finish that.”

James snorts, “That’s barely two gulps, Pete.”

His blonde friend groans, head sinking into his palms, “I think Benji might already have my head if I turn up back home like this.”

James turns solemn all the sudden, nodding in understanding and rubbing Peter’s back soothingly. Benji loves him though so it’ll be fine, James knows that, but he still wants to be there for Peter, obviously.

The other man grumbles something into his hands that James doesn’t catch over the music and loud noise of people.

“What was that?”

Peter’s head tilts back up, “What about you?”

James blinks, trying to decipher what his friend means through the alcohol clouding his brain.

Pete’s lips tug into a lopsided smirk, “How’re you gonna get home to your loverboy?”

“Oh,” James makes, understanding now. “Regulus said he’ll pick me up.”

“Mm,” Peter grunts into his cup, downing the flat beer, “Premium service.”

James feels himself turn a little more gooey where he’s draping his full weight onto the precariously wobbly bar table, and he sighs long and dreamily, “Yeah, he’s the best.”

“Hi, Regulus,” Peter says, head tipped to the side at a 90 degree angle.

“Yeah, obviously, Regulus, who else?” James makes, nose scrunching in confusion.

“Hello, Peter,” a voice says from behind him and James thinks he might nearly break a few cervical vertebraes in his haste to turn around.

“Baby,” James gasps when he sees Regulus standing there in all his beautiful glory. Head cocked to the side slightly, arms crossed and a mild scowl on his face. He’s in one of James’ grey printed hoodies and sporting some dark green and blue plaid pyjama bottoms that always make his butt look a little bigger, according to himself. James loves Regulus ass though, he loves that it’s perky and petite and perfectly bite-sized for when James is—

“I texted you,” Regulus says in lieu of greeting James, lips pursed into a pout James also would like to bite, “And I called four times.”

Another, softer gasp punches out of James and he fumbles for his phone in his jeans’ back pocket for a second, tapping the screen to see the missed calls and messages. 

James’ expression tips into a frown, a wounded noise coming from his chest as he shuffles closer with his head ducked, palms slowly reaching out to Regulus’ hips. “I’m so sorry, love,” James mumbles, tone apologetic and Regulus’ eyes narrow, “I swear I wasn’t ignoring you, I just didn’t hear.”

Regulus averts his eyes with a small tut, arms tightening where they’re crossed.

James can’t help but whine. The last thing he wants right now is for Regulus to be mad at him, “Baby, please, I promise.”

When Regulus doesn’t budge, James twirls one of his dark curls around his index, playing softly and contemplating giving into the urge of peppering his boyfriend’s face in kisses. He doesn’t want to make it worse though. 

James scrambles together all his might and tries navigating through the drunken haze of his brain and body, concentrating to remind himself what usually makes Regulus fold.

“We were just talking about you, too,” James tries. “Petey can confirm that.”

“Oh, I do not want to be dragged into this, thank you very much.”

James grumbles, rolling his eyes and simply winds his arms tighter around Regulus. It elicits a small inhale and yes, that’s good and it makes James tug his lower lip between his teeth, humming in satisfaction.

Regulus eyes snap back around to him, eyelids fluttering and James slips into a victorious grin. He leans closer and lets his lips brush over his boyfriends, inhaling that distinct citrus and bergamot smell of him, before he breathes needily, “Missed you so much, Reg.”

In the next second there are palms thumping against his pecs, punching a breath out of him before he’s reeled back in by the lapel of his flannel, Regulus glowering at him, cheeks flushed, “Ok, that’s officially enough of you, menace.”

James giggles and quickly squishes Regulus cheeks to plant a kiss on his slack mouth.

They bid their Goodbyes to Peter and make sure he’s got a cab that’ll bring him home safely and then James lets Regulus tug him out of the pub with their fingers intertwined.

Once they’re outside of the crowded space James can’t help himself when he snatches Regulus around the waist and squeezes him with a happy groan.

“James,” Regulus chides, voice tight and flustered, “Let go, we’re in the middle of a sidewalk.”

“But I love you so much,” James slurs into the space between the hoodie and Regulus’ exposed neck, nose nuzzling the skin contently.

Regulus sighs and James doesn’t have to look to see the smile playing at his rosy lips, “Let’s get you into bed.”

“Aw yeah, bed,” James snickers, reaching one hand around to grab at Regulus’ butt.

Regulus yelps and James ends up with a bruise on his ribcage that throbs softly once he cuddles up with Regulus under the sheets half an hour later.

#theyre sooo sweet and annoying #jegulus #jegulus microfic #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #lune’s tiny fic #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #q

[radiant-reid]

300

him in cult episodes >>>>

Summary: Reader recalls something Spencer told her months ago when he’s taken hostage by a cult (based on 14x01)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)

Content Warning: mentions of most of spencer’s trauma

Word Count: 3.4k

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Everything’s a mess.

Y/n’s used to the BAU lifestyle, and today is not the first day a team member has been abducted. It’s not even the first time that it’s been Spencer’s life in danger. Last time it was a three-month-long nightmare that seemed never ending during his time in prison.

It was different now. After what he said, everything between them changed.

She’s not expecting anyone when Spencer slides open the door to the balcony, and she whips her head around to see him.

It’s late in the evening, and she’s escaped the ground floor of Rossi’s mansion, where everyone’s partying, to a quieter balcony upstairs. Cicadas chirp in the spring night air, and there’s a faint beat of the bass of the music from downstairs. Rossi lives far enough outside of DC that the stars are bright, shimmering in the dark sky.

The balcony has a comfortable outdoor couch and armchair, perfect for sitting there and tuning out the world. She needs to do that. Spencer, her fellow BAU team member and friend, has been out of prison for a month, but the stress hasn’t dissipated completely. If she thinks about it hard enough, she’s back sitting at the round table while Penelope reads over an arrest report from Mexico, feeling completely helpless.

“There she is.” He greets her with a kind smile.

His smiling is something she seriously missed when he was away. “Hey.” She replies.

He holds out her jacket that she’d left downstairs, helping put it on her shoulders. “I thought you might be cold up here.” He explains the thoughtful gesture. “Am I interrupting?”

“No, not at all.” She shakes her head, nodding to the armchair she’s not occupying. “Sit, please.”

He accepts her offer eagerly. Then he follows her eyes out over Rossi’s perfectly maintained yard to the sky. “Wow.” He comments.

She hums at his tone. “I know.” She agrees. “Has everyone else gone home?”

Spencer shakes his head. “No, but they’re onto karaoke.” He informs her, laughing before his following statement. “Very alarming sounds.”

She chuckles slightly. He wouldn’t believe it, but he’s funny. She appreciates their time together more now, having gone without it for three long months.

“They’re missing out on your singing.” She jokes, smirking at him.

It’s mostly in reference to karaoke at The Benjamin all those years ago, where they sang all night long. It seems like a long time ago, and so much has changed, but despite what he’s been through, Spencer’s glow never diminished. He’s still the guy who somehow knew how to deliver a baby when he needed to.

“They don’t need to hear that.” He assures her, chuckling. “Again.”

“I thought it was great.” She admits or teases: she’s not sure which. “A highlight was Bohemian Rapsody.”

He cringes, shaking his head at the foggy memory. “I was hoping by then you’d had enough to drink.”

“Oh, I had.” She assures him, earning a confused look from the genius before she reminds him of something he had happily forgotten. “Hotch videoed that whole night.”

Spencer does something he rarely does then, sharing the feelings in his big brain. “I miss him.”

Y/n does too. She’d never missed someone more than she missed Hotch when Spencer was in prison, knowing that his skills as a prosecutor would have been insanely helpful.

“Me too. I’m happy he’s spending time with Jack, though.” She reminds them why it had been his time to go. “The kid deserves it.”

Spencer agrees, but he doesn’t feel the need to say anything, so they sit there in silence. It’s the most peace he’s felt in a long time.

“Y/n?” He asks, briefly getting her attention when she turns to look at him.

“Mm?” She replies, prompting him to continue.

It’s now or never. He draws in a deep breath, preparing for what he needs to say. There’s been so much weight on his shoulders for the last month, and this confession will lift some of it off. One thing he’s learned since prison is that he needs to say what he feels before it’s too late.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He admits, voice wavering slightly. “I think I was always meant to be in love with you.

There’s a beat of silence. And then another. One more.

She’s taking the information in at a slow processing speed, and the words don’t reach her mouth.

He takes it as his answer. He didn’t tell her expecting anything, like her to love him back, just to feel lighter, which works. “I just- I need you to know that.”

She should kiss him. It’s the right thing to do. Not right as in socially acceptable, but right for herself. In her heart, she’s meant to be with him and now is the perfect opportunity. A literal confession spoken to her. There’s no room to worry about him not returning her feelings and their friendship souring. He’s in love with her, and she can’t reply.

More silence, and he decides that it’s getting awkward. He spirals about making her uncomfortable, so he stands up, walking back to the door. “Good night, Y/n.”

She wills her legs to work, to run after him and catch him on the stairs, eagerly jump into his arms and kiss him like she’s wanted to do since she met him in front of Rossi’s expensive artwork. 

She doesn’t.

It’s what she’s thinking about on the jet. Maybe it’s selfish when everyone else goes over where the cult could have taken him, but she’s replaying that evening. How his hand felt when he grazed her bare shoulder, the sound of his shoes as he shuffled away, and how sweet the air tasted that night compared to the bitter resentment she tasted after she didn’t follow him.

“He told you the truth, huh?” JJ asks, sliding into the seat across from her before she even notices someone’s focus on her.

“You know?” Y/n asks in reply, slightly shocked. Sure, they’re best friends, but she didn’t expect Spencer to be spilling his romantic feelings about a colleague to JJ.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know for so long.” She remarks, met with a confused look from her friend. In her mind, Y/n had assumed Spencer had been in love with her for a few months, maximum. “He’s been in love with you for years.”

Her heart sinks in her chest. Is it wrong for her to feel warm? Knowing Spencer’s out there alone- hurt, from what Penelope said- it seems inappropriate. “He has?” She repeats. 

“Since he met you.” She answers before amending her speech. “Maybe a week or two after.”

So about as long as she had loved him. And she might never get to tell him. 

She can’t help but think about how she might stand over his casket and cry next week, wishing she had told him that night, back when everything was perfect.

JJ sees the panic, how her face goes pale, and she reaches out to touch her friend’s arm. “He’ll be okay.” She promises. She has to have that faith, too, if she’s going to be able to function.

Y/n nods, willing herself to keep it together. “I know. Let’s get him back.”

She must have spent most of the flight before JJ came to sit with her in shock because soon the plane’s landing, and they’re in SUVs driving to the cult’s compound.

Her heart races in her chest, pulse thumping once they arrive, and Emily initiates the infiltration plan. They’ve got to be quick and quiet, knowing the cult will claim Spencer as their 300th victim without being talked down. To them, his being there is a decade in the making. It’s spiritual, and there’s no way they’ll let him go. 

He’s completely tied up onto a structure, standing upright, when she gets a peek at him, his hands strapped by his side, legs tied, and a band wrapped around his head to keep his head in place. It’s very sacrificial with The Messiah and Agent Meadows standing around him. 

He’s bruising, too, red marks around his face that will develop into a deep purple. She can’t see into his mind, but she wonders if he’s formulating an escape plan because he looks like he’s accepted it, conceded defeat, and come to terms with dying. Even from far away, his eyes are watery and his breathing steady, like he’s finally admitted to himself that they’re not coming to save him. 

It’s easily the most terrifying expression she’s seen on anyone’s face. It’s bone-chilling.

They move in quickly, knowing he has seconds, not minutes. Y/n dashes to Spencer with JJ, the cult members around her getting shot or arrested being blocked out of her mind. 

His face softens when he sees her, fingers flexing as she and JJ untie his restraints. When his hands are free, he falls forward onto her, clutching her tightly, one arm over her shoulder, one under. 

It’s the tightest she’s ever been hugged, his grip making her feel like she’s his lifeline and he’s coming back to life. He pants out a breath like he hasn’t breathed since he was tied up. His hands spread out on her back, he buries his chin in her neck, and they rock side to side. 

“Y/n.” Spencer whispers, closing his eyes and focusing on holding her. “You came.”

“Of course.” She replies. “Always. You good?”

“Can I have another minute?” He asks, practically begs. Even if she’s not his, he needs to hold her for a bit longer before he can’t ever again.

She squeezes him tighter, assuring him it’s okay. “Always.” She repeats. 

It feels like it’s just the two of them, despite the chaos behind her. She takes in his cologne and how right it feels to be comforting him. Her feelings for him are much more straightforward in her head than they were that night at Rossi’s. 

His breathing calms down, so it’s not erratic hyperventilating, and he loosens his grip around her, more than ready to get out of there now that he feels alive and whole again. 

She loses him after that, keeping some distance while he hugs everyone else and thanks them in true Spencer fashion. There isn’t an opportunity to talk to him when they’re on the jet home since Emily is. She just sits and watches him, reminding herself that he’s okay.

She can’t stop thinking about his expression from the cult compound when she saw him, how unafraid he looked despite knowing he was about to get sacrificed. Maybe he knew they were there, like something deep inside him told him he’d be okay, but he looked prepared to die.

There are more hugs when they get back to Quantico, Penelope practically unwilling to let him go or out of her sight. The case has to end, and exhaustion falls over them when the adrenaline wears off, despite a new day dawning. 

That night, she runs after him like she should have done at Rossi’s, barely making it to the elevator before the doors shut. 

He looks surprised to see her. “I thought you went home.” He says.

She couldn’t. She’s not sure she’ll be able to leave him in the BAU ever again. “I didn’t.” She reports then immediately feeling like an idiot because that much was obvious.

“Why?” He asks caringly. 

“You were still here.” She admits honestly, looking up at his gentle brown eyes. They’re always more golden in the morning.

“I just had to do a psychological counseling thing.” He explains.

Her eyebrows furrow, confused about why someone would make him do that only hours after he was saved. “This soon?” 

He nods. “Damaged goods.” He says, like it’s his label. And he fully believes it. 

“You’re not.” She firmly tells him, mostly angry the FBI would subject him to something invasive so early.

“Y/n.” He says in a tone that sounds like he’s begging her not to sympathize with him falsely. 

Y/n shakes her head, eyeing him with fiery irises as she dares him to continue speaking negatively of himself. “You saved yourself, Spencer.” She informs him sincerely. “Are you hungry?” She asks.

The change of topic disorients him, but it seems a better conversation than arguing over how much of a mess he is. “Starving.” He answers. He didn’t have much time to think about it, with being abducted by a cult, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch yesterday, if you can call a packet of chips lunch.

“Do you want to get breakfast?” She offers before quickly retracting any implications her suggestion could have. “Unless you just need some time alone or don’t want to hang out with him. I won’t be offended.” She wants to tell him, needs to confess what she should have before, but he’s in such an emotional state that she would hate to take advantage of that.

She couldn’t get further from the truth. Spending time with her, specifically, has always made things easier. “I’d really like that.” He admits, sending her a soft smile. 

They barely speak on the drive into DC. There’s a lot of tension in the air, words left unspoken, but Spencer needs time to look at her. He’s at a point where he knows nothing will happen between them, but there’s still a life he imagines when he needs a quick spike of dopamine. She, and an imagined future between them, is his drug of choice now.

He orders pancakes, copying her, rather than getting his usual meal of eggs, bacon, and toast. He ditches coffee in favor of juice, knowing he’s going home to sleep after breakfast when the rest of the adrenaline wears off. 

No deep conversation gets brought up at breakfast, either. Instead, there’s laughter, and every time she looks up at him, Spencer smiles. 

He’s used to going home alone after any trauma in his life. Even after prison and Mr. Scratch, he returned to an empty apartment. After he was abducted by Tobias Hankel, when he got out of the hospital after getting poisoned by anthrax, and even after he got shot in the neck in Texas after Alex dropped him at home, he was by himself.

It’s better with someone else -he decides while they’re sitting there- because he can not think about it in favor of thinking about her.

He eats like he’s been without food for a week, even getting a refill of juice, although everything he’s been through would make anyone hungry.

And he pays, despite her telling him she would, so she drives him home through the traffic-less streets, thanks to everyone being at work.

He hesitates before he gets out of the car once they arrive at his apartment. “Do you want to come up?” 

She accepts, following him up the stairs. It’s a good time to do it, now that they’re alone and in private. 

His apartment is lighter than when she saw it when she went with Penelope once to water his plants while he was in prison. It’s neater with the curtains open, and he might have added even more books to the impressive collection she previously noticed.

Unsure of how long she’s staying, Y/n takes off her shoes on instinct. Spencer’s not sure why he invited her up other than wanting to spend more time with her, so he’s not sure what to do now that she’s there. 

She speaks before he can offer her water. “Were you scared?” She asks before realizing the insensitivity of her question. She doesn’t want to sound like a shitty Bureau psychologist, just his friend, haunted by a snapshot in her mind of his expression. “I just mean... we were, and Penelope was when she came. JJ was because you’re her best friend. You weren’t even shaking. Sorry I didn’t-”

Spencer cuts her off before she can spiral. “I wasn’t. Not when Penelope was safe.” 

“Why not?” She asks. It makes sense, his wanting to protect Penelope, but she can’t understand why he wasn’t scared when he was moments away from death. She’s thought about it enough without coming up with an answer for it to be necessary to ask. 

“Because, Y/n, what I told you that night at Rossi’s.” Her breathing hitches at the mention of the best, or maybe one of the worst, nights of her life. “If that’s the last proper, non-case-related discussion we have, I’m okay with that. I couldn’t die without you knowing I love you.”

She shakes her head, eyes tearing up at the confirmation of his acceptance of dying. “There’s more for you than that.” She says, hoping he knows it. 

He does. 

He’s got three perfect godsons, he’d love to go back to Paris, he’s always wanted a family, a wife and a big house, there are still books he hasn’t read, there are still sequels being written, there are classes yet to teach and profilers yet to train, there are chess games to win and to lose, and old friends left to see. 

They both know his life isn’t close to be finished. 

“You knowing is what mattered.” He repeats. “Right from when I realized I wasn’t going to get out by myself, I knew it would be okay since you knew.”

“It wouldn’t be okay!” She says a little too loudly, close to crying. “You can’t be okay with that.”

There’s more in her head, and he’s reluctant to push her to find out, but he does. “Why?”

She sighs, feeling small standing there in front of him. “Because if you died, I couldn’t have told you I love you.” She reveals one of her deepest fears that she hadn’t realized until recently. 

“Oh,” Spencer says, jaw going slack. He’s rarely speechless. “Recently or...” It’s the only thing he can think to do: establish a timeline.

“For a long time.” She admits. “I just- I froze that night. I couldn’t say it, but I felt it.” 

He senses the apology that’s about to spill and shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He believes it when he says it and walks closer to hold her hands in front of her. She’s surprised by the contact, but it’s nice, even if his hands are slightly cold.

For a moment, they just stand there, and she admires his gorgeous cheekbones and those honey-colored eyes that make her weak when he looks at her so intensely.

He doesn’t rush his next move. Slowly, he drops her hands and cups her cheeks, smiling softly. Then he leans forward, giving her what she’s been waiting for for a long time. His lips are soft on hers like he’s testing the waters, giving her a chance to pull away before pouring passion into it. She matches his pressure while basking in the glow of kissing Spencer Reid. Spencer Reid, who loves her. 

They share a matching fond look when they pull back. 

Then he’s laughing, and it’s the cutest thing in the world, along with being confusing. The slight, amused frown on her face causes him to explain. “You love me, and I love you.” He says like he can’t believe it. “Wow.”

She knows that reaction from when she had it at Rossi’s, and he looks adorable experiencing it, grinning so hard his face might split. For a long time, he’s wanted to be loved by someone romantically, and now he is. After everything he’s been through, Spencer thought it wouldn’t happen, and for the first time in his life, he’s glad to be wrong.

“What are you doing today?” He asks when he’s collected himself.

“Well, I was going to go home and sleep.” She answers, wondering what he’s going to suggest they do while knowing she could be persuaded into almost anything by him.  

“Sleep here.” He says quickly. “Not like that.” A blush fills his cheeks. “If you want. Then we could go to dinner, lunch, a movie theatre, or the park, wherever you want.” 

She’s nodding before he finishes. He could ask her out on a date to watch paint drying in his spare bedroom, and she would eagerly accept. “Yes.”

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[yakulin]

.˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

Prompt: You and Kei are both high school teachers that all the students ship

An awkward smile arose on your face as a group of female students gathered around your desk during lunch time. They kept on beckoning for you to reveal your "secret,” but there wasn’t one.

 

“Come on, miss! You have to tell us if the rumors about you and Mr.Tsukishima are true!” A short brown-haired girl stated, and you couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly. “They’re just rumors; we’re just coworkers, alright?” You stated. The group of girls seemed a little disappointed by that answer: “Although this isn’t a very appropriate question to be asking your homeroom teacher now, is it?” You said, half jokingly, that you were known as the chill teacher in the school, explaining why the group of girls tended to push these sorts of questions on you.

 

Time passed, and you decided to leave your classroom, as the group of girls weren’t going to stop trying to get a nonexistent answer out of you. You set down a plastic cup under the coffeemaker as you heard the door of the teacher's lounge open. Turning around to look at the person who entered the room, your eyes widened ever so slightly. “Good evening, Tsukishima,” you said with a warm smile, and he returned the same greeting.

 

Tsukishima passed by you towards the fridge to get his lunch. Seeing him in the same room as you had you thinking Why are there rumors about you two dating? Or why do the students think there’s any sort of chemistry between the two of you? It doesn’t make sense.

 

You were brought out of your thoughts when Tsukishima spoke up, “Have you noticed the strange interest the students have had on both of us recently?” He asked, leaving you a little embarrassed as you blew on your prepared coffee.

 

An awkward smile appeared on your face as you looked down at your coffee. "Have they been asking you strange questions too?" You asked, and he nodded hesitantly. “Not exactly, but I noticed during our last staff meeting that as we finished and left the room, some students were giggling, but not in a funny sort of way. When girls have crushes on their classmates, kind of giggling,” he explained, thinking back. You did remember the group of kids after the meeting, although you brushed it off because they were probably just doing something they weren’t supposed to.

 

“Are they asking you straight up or something?” He asked, a bit surprised. “Yeah, pretty much. I came here just to get away from the group of girls,” you said, laughing slightly. He covered his smile with his hand. "God, they have no shame, do they?” He asked rhetorically. “They don’t even know the word shame. Either way, you got any idea how this whole fantasy situation between the two of us even happened?” You asked.

 

"Well, I heard this group of girls talking in my class, saying how our whole 'mean intimidating boyfriend and sweet chill girlfriend’ were relationship goals.” He answered, "So it’s our unofficial dynamic?” You simplified his words and couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

 

"Perhaps,” he responded with a small smile. “That’s funny; I suppose it makes sense. You aren’t a bad-looking guy, pretty sweet too, but anyone compared to you would be known as the'sweet chill girlfriend', no offense, of course." You said it blankly, your cheeks turning a light pink once you realized you had just called your coworker, who you’re being shipped with by handsome students!

 

“T-thanks,” he stuttered. This surprised you because never once in the multiple years you two worked together did he ever stutter. Especially over such a simple word, did you catch him off guard? Staying quiet, an awkward silence began to rise.

 

"You aren’t bad-looking either,” he said, speaking up through the awkward silence. "Thanks," you responded. The silence of the lounge made the outside noise capable of being heard, and soon enough, faint giggles from students arose from outside the lounge door. You looked over at Tsukishima, and he looked back at you. “Do you think..." You whispered to him, “Oh god, I hope not.” He responded.

The student shipping frenzy was about to get real.

#haikyu x you #haikyu x y/n #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #tsukishima x you #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #hq tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima kei

[fatuismooches]

If requests are still open, can I see some headcanons of Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, and Pantalone taking care of a sick s/o? As in, the s/o has a bad cold since they’re not used to the cold weather in Snezhnaya.

♡ 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 ♡

synopsis: The icy winds and brutal snow of Snezhnaya is a stark contrast to the other nations, which causes you to come down with a nasty cold. But it's not so bad when you have your lovely Harbinger partner to take care of you!

includes: pierro, capitano, dottore, pantalone w/ gn! reader

notes: These kind of requests make my heart go <333. I hate being sick but to be pampered by them... I hope you like these!

Pierro:

Pierro is the calm, patient, and understanding one. He knows that the icy weather of Snezhnaya takes time to get used to, and will make sure you have as much time as it takes to have a complete recovery. He has lived for a long time and has seen many bouts of illnesses, people who survived and succumbed. But he knows that you’re strong enough to survive and a cold won’t take you out. Out of all the Harbingers, I think he is the busiest, but he would sincerely do his best to make time for you while you’re stricken by this cold. Even though he’s always tired, I believe he’s a gentleman. The kind of man who keeps replacing the wet cloth on your forehead, makes you a delicious hot cup of tea, cooks you nutritious food, and uses ancient remedies long forgotten from Khaenri’ah.

He understands that laying in bed all day is “no fun” (quoted by you) so during times when the cold isn’t so bad, he’d play board games with you. (He likes chess, so I can see him liking other board games too. You introduce him to the more modern ones.) Pierro goes easy on you but it’s still hard to play when your head is a foggy mess. He secretly thinks your thinking face is cute.

You are treated with the utmost respect when he’s not around. Only the best of the best servants serve the First Harbinger, so you are in good hands. If the opposite happens… well, they’re no longer here. Pierro is highly loyal to the Tsaritsa so he hopes you grow to withstand and like the weather.

Capitano:

The one who is trying his best. I don’t know if he’s a human or not, but if he’s some kind of otherworldly monster, he probably hasn’t gotten sick before. (Even if he’s human, I feel like he just doesn’t get sick.) So he is trying his best with your fragile human body which somehow got sick from a little cold. (You have to explain to him that it’s literally sometimes negative degrees in Snezhnaya and normal people can’t take that. Plus your body structure is nowhere like his…) Capitano would force you to stay in bed because logically you need rest. I can see Childe giving him some tips and being thrilled that Capitano is talking to him, even if it’s just for basic advice. (The other soldiers don’t show it but it’s funny to them how the mighty Capitano is so disoriented over his sick lover.) 

When the doctor comes in to diagnose and attend to you, they’re kind of scared because Capitano is lurking over the both of you, needing to know if you’re okay. Capitano tries to feed you but the spoon is so tiny he keeps dropping it with his huge hands. He was meant for battle and fighting after all. Awkwardly apologizes for his lack of hospitality. He kind of just sits by your bed, brooding silently for much of the time despite your reassurance that it’s ok. If there’s one thing he’s good at though, it’s keeping you all bundled up and warm on his chest. Who knows how tall this man is so your whole body might even fit on top of him <3. You won’t even need a blanket because his coat is big enough for the both of you.

If it makes you happy, he would take off his helmet and read you tales of chivalry. This is kind of a big step for him because I feel as though he’s the kind of partner who doesn’t speak too much and tends to just stare at you, which doesn’t help you since you can’t even read his expression and is only greeted with the black depths of darkness. He’s not good at this domestic stuff, but apparently, he’s doing a good job because you’re laughing despite your sniffling and headache. (I don’t know why, but I feel like cuddling with his helmet would be cute. I know I’m weird.)

Dottore:

You had grown up in the heat of Sumeru all your life and were accustomed to it until you met Dottore at the Akademiya who later whisked you away to Snezhnaya to continue being his assistant. While you were aware of the snowy climate of the frozen nation, you really didn’t expect it to be absolutely freezing. Your lack of previous exposure to the cold caused you to come down with a nasty cold. Dottore has gotten sick before but has mutated his body so much that he rarely catches anything anymore. But he can understand since he went from Fontaine to Sumeru to Snezhnaya and had to adjust to the weather conditions.

Even when Dottore got sick he just powered through it and stayed awake by downing some pills. Expects you to have the same kind of resilience and continue to assist him with his experiments but quickly realizes that’s not going to happen. He’s never taken care of another person and is half surprised at himself that he’s going to help you but chalks it up to the fact that he needs a reliable person to help him. Honestly, even when you’re sick, Dottore still wants you around him so he probably gets you a pillow or two and a blanket and makes you lay on one of those operating tables. Usually, these tables are used for much more heinous activities but he takes your temperature, pressure, uses a thermometer, etc. (He’s still a doctor after all.) 

Dottore is a genius scientist so you’ll stay sick for the shortest amount of time with him as your lover. Will create some concoction of medicine that will have you feeling a lot better in no time. Jokes that he likes you better this way when you’re not talking (he’s lying.) Dottore tends to bark at the other Fatui helpers less when you’re trying to rest. They are grateful but it’s an ominous feeling for Dottore’s lab to be this quiet.

To ensure you don’t pull any stunts like this again Dottore will take precautions about your exposure to Snezhnayan weather. At first, he makes you sit by an open window for a bit and then slowly lets you go outside. He’s happy you’re back but has to admit seeing you so vulnerable is amusing to him.

Pantalone:

He understands the most due to his childhood growing up in poverty. Pantalone probably got sick many times since he didn’t have sufficient clothing or shelter to warm him. He might have seen other orphans die to this as well so he takes your cold very seriously. Of course, the best maids, caretakers, and doctors will be at your beck and call because Pantalone will spare no expense in order to make sure you receive the best and most effective treatment. Someone will always be with you in case your condition takes a turn for the worst. (This is just for a bad cold too. Imagine if it was more extreme.)

Pantalone doesn’t want to get sick himself because he has to attend to his Fatui duties but I think he may have built up some immunity to colds since he got them frequently as a kid. And he would genuinely want to stay with you and care for you since that’s what he would have wanted many years ago. He would temporarily move his desk and paperwork into your shared room to keep watch over you while you slept. When you wake up, he’ll be by your side, ready to feed you some hearty soup, with the maids’ shocked that their lord is taking on the duty himself. Would take care of your hair especially since you’re too tired to do that. He spoils you even more than usual when you’re sick too. Will give you his signature fluffy coat that’s larger than your whole body to cuddle with (he has a dozen more anyway.) If you like stuffed toys, they’ll be stacked up on the gigantic bed for you. 

Can’t fall asleep? He’ll indulge you by reading your favorite story, or simply stroking your hair and humming something quietly. (I think he can hum pretty well, that velvety voice can do anything.) Don’t want to take your yucky medicine? Will find some way to break it up into your food or mix it into a drink for your sake. Why do I see him being the kind to tease you by doing helicopter movements with your food?

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #il dottore #capitano #pierro #pantalone #genshin pantalone #genshin dottore #genshin capitano #genshin pierro

[residenthughes]

bottomless brunch & shitty one-liners

pairing: leon kennedy x gender neutral reader

word count: 959 😔

tags/warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, crack, reader is just a drunk horny bastard :)

summary: 2 hours. thirteen cocktails and a whole lot of chaos.

notes: ...hey 😭 i know i said i wouldn't be posting/maybe not posting but i was looking through my fic ideas and this happened. whoopsies! 🤭 honestly, this was just a silly idea i had because i came across a video of all the one-liners leon says in re4, which are very much present in this.

forgot to mention, there's biting...again 😭 i don't know what it is, but the urge to bite leon is quite real and that reflects in my fics 😁 hope y'all enjoy :)

You’re drunk, disgustingly so. Bottomless brunch is always a good way to spend time with your dearest, spilling intimate talk amidst intoxicated giggles and basking in the foreverness of formed friendships. However, they do not come without consequence - that being you an absolute state in front of Leon. Your dutiful long-time partner, ever so sweet as he spared the precious time he has off from his missions to pick you up from the wild affair - thirteen cocktails deep - sheepishly greeting your friends that holler sexual innuendos as he helps you into the car. He does it anyway, because he loves you. He loves you, he really does - but you’re chatting out of your ass right now. 

“You know, considering how you move around the house, you must be the GOAT at what you do,” you mumble, smushing your face into the pillow as you cause nothing but a ruckus as you discard your additional pieces of clothing on the bed. 

Sat on the bedroom bench, Leon shrugs his boots off, glancing over his shoulder at the mess you are. Stupidly drunk and struggling to shimmy off your jeans. Cute. “Oh, baby.”

“Those one-liners though…that’s a different story.”

The sweet moment is all but gone. “Gee, thanks honey.”

Despite the fact that there’s not a thought behind your eyes, you smile at his sarcasm. Snickering to yourself as you shimmy the last part of your jeans off before they’re lazily discarded onto the floor. You’ll (Leon will) pick it up later. “Honestly! Bet you’re the type of motherfucker to be confronted with unbelievable atrocities, only to say, it’s my lucky day or something.”

Leon huffs in amusement. He’s definitely said that before.

“Go on,” he decides to entertain your teasing, stripping himself of the leather jacket you went on and on about in the car looking so good on him. “What other one-liners do you think I say?”

You give a thoughtful hum, touching your chin as you lay back against the comfort of your shared bed. The time you take to answer has Leon taking a look back at you, questioning if you’d fallen into a drunken slumber, like a drunk middle aged uncle passed out on the couch, only to see your face flash as an idea pops into your head.

“Oh, how about something like, time for the teacher to be taught?”

It’s scary how well you know Leon. His most recent mission had him spewing the exact same words. It gives him goosebumps. “You sure you’re not reading my reports when I’m not looking?”

You giggle. “Just know how cheesy you can be, hon.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me.”

The laughter that erupts from you is unstoppable, so much so that you’re clenching your stomach and kicking your feet in the air. Leon can be so funny, so funny. You’re lucky to have him, you think.

Once you wipe your tears of laughter, you’re bringing yourself to sit upwards. Slowly, of course. Wouldn’t want to be sick all over the bed. Again. You move towards where Leon rests against the bedroom bench, draping your arms around his waist and you rest your cheek against his shoulder. “I kid, I kid. You know I love you.”

“Judging by what you’ve just said in the past two minutes, I’m not too sure.” He says, but he doesn’t mean it. He’s amused, if anything. You can tell by his amused smile and the playful raise of his eyebrows.

Your eyes skim over his features, carved to perfection and all yours. 

You hug him just a bit tighter.

“Come on,” you nudge him, all playful in his ear as you coax him to look your way. He does, smoulder melting into his features as he gazes at you with a fondness that’s all for you. You feel restless. Must be the alcohol kicking in. “There’s that pretty smile, handsome.”

“Handsome, huh?” 

You don’t know what it is, but the simple echo of your words coming from him sets you off, sending you on a collision course towards the ever so sinful and lustful domain.

“Extremely so,” you bat your eyelashes and nudge him again. “Come on, handsome. Look this way.”

He looks at you. His face on full display and you take your chance, kissing the edge of his lips before you misaim and bite down on his jaw. “What is with you?”

Leon’s chuckling as you kiss the bitten territory, kissing up and down his face in sweet apologies. Leon doesn’t miss when you bite down on his chin amidst the mess of kisses you leave.

“Can’t help it,” you murmur lazily, cheek pressed against his shoulder. “Too sexy - even your goddamn chin. Make it make sense.”

“Can’t believe that meme about your partner going out to bottomless brunch, only to come back a horny bastard is true.” Leon talks to himself but you perk up anyways, glimmer in your eyes.

“You saw the memes I sent you?”

“‘Course I did,” Leon answers, placing a brief kiss against your temple. You relax into his touch. “I do other things besides say shitty one-liners on my missions.”

You smile, ever so grateful for the place Leon holds in your life. You couldn’t imagine it any other way. “How romantic.”

“Only for you, baby.”

You hum against the exposed skin of his shoulder, peering up at the man with a devious glimmer in your eyes. Leon can’t help but shake his head as he airs out a small chuckle. 

“So, about the meme,” you wiggle your eyebrows, pressing your body up against Leon’s wide back, grin as mischievous as ever. “How about we put it to practise?”

And you do, making another mess of your sheets this time around. 

#leon kennedy #re4r #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #re4r leon #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil 4 #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil 4 fanfic #resident evil fluff

[mclarengf]

thinking about… max verstappen taking care of you when you’re drunk

note: this blurb came to me as i was taking my makeup off after my bday celebrations yesterday and then i was like ‘good golly, imagine if i had a hot f1 bf here with me rn’ and at first i thought alex but thats soooo obvious so here’s wee maxypoos

---

you’re really drunk. max is well aware of this fact.

the two of you are halfway up the stairs. your arm is slung across max’s back; he is holding your heels in one hand and supporting you with the other.

he’d offered to swap shoes with you properly, eyeing your heels in the club and stating that he could probably fit in them. max is also drunk, of course, but he’s higher-functioning than you, which is why he’s in charge now.

it’s your birthday though, and max isn’t one to prematurely put an end to your celebrations, or let you wake up the next day complaining about your drunken uselessness, so actually, half the blame is on him too.

jimmy meows at you both condescendingly as you pass him, sat in front of your bedroom door. sassy had greeted you when you first came stumbling into the house, then ran off to avoid being trod on accidentally.

when you arrive in the bathroom, max sits you on the edge of the tub, trusting you enough to at least keep your balance here.

he pulls open the drawer under the sink and you hear bottles clink as they’re turned and fiddled with, max trying to read each label.

“here, close your eyes.”

he finally turns around with a wet cotton pad in his hand, pushing his sleeves up as he steps towards you. drunk you still has enough wits to have doubts about max’s capabilities, but you’re so tired, and it’ll probably still be easier for him to fuck up and then fix it, than for you to poke your eye out cause you fell asleep halfway through wiping off your mascara.

when he finally presses the cotton pad to your skin, he’s gentler than you’d expected. his thumb pushes your eyebrow up to pull your eyelid tauter so your makeup remover doesn’t find its way into your eyeball, and he’s quick to catch any drips that do potentially threaten your vision.

once he’s done with that eye, he moves onto the other, repeating each step just as carefully as before, slow movements picking up all the eye makeup he had watched you apply only a couple hours earlier. you don’t know if max realises, but he’s singing something under his breath as he goes. it’s really nice, a comforting tune. you must have heard it before somewhere, but your drunk mind doesn’t entirely care enough to dwell on the question.

you hum at him when he asks if you’re still awake, and tell him not to bother with trying to replicate your whole nighttime routine, because all you want now is sleep.

he finishes your pampering by misting your face lightly and holding your chin up as he applies your lip balm, “all done, schatje.”

“thank you, baby,” you mumble, leaning up towards him for a kiss, “mm, love you so much.”

max decides to leave your shoes in the bathroom to be tomorrow’s problem, and leads you back to your bedroom, pushing the door open with his foot. jimmy’s already slipped in through the crack; turning the ceiling light on reveals he’s found a new hiding spot on top of the dresser.

he’s happy to unzip you and help you step out of your dress, and even happier to see you pull one of his shirts over your head to sleep in. max loves all the small things that show you’re his; wearing his clothes, driving his cars, trusting him to always get you home safely.

“did you have fun today?” he asks, once you’re both in bed and he’s reaching over to turn the light off.

you nod sleepily.

“thank you for surprising me. that was really nice of you, maxie.”

he wraps an arm around you and settles your head on his chest. your legs are twisted together underneath the sheets, as they always are; his free hand starts running through your hair absentmindedly.

“did you see when daniel was dancing on the table? it was very funny. i will show you the video tomorrow,” he promises, “and then we can make fun of him together.”

max’s lisp is more prominent when he’s had a few, all his sibilants bunching up at the front of his mouth. you tell him this, semi-coherently.

he laughs, and then whispers for you to go to sleep.

“happy birthday, liefje.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 fic #mv33 #mv1 fic #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 #red bull racing #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 #mclarengf #gf writes!

[catherinnn]

But Daddy I Love Him!!!

Eddie Munson x cheerleader!reader based on "But Daddy I Love Him" by Taylor Swift. words: around 2k warnings: angst if you squint, fluff!!! so many taylor swift references, overprotective parents, no use of y/n, happy ending.

masterlist

You knew that once you made your relationship with Eddie Munson public people would lose it. That’s why you’ve been postposing it until you were both really sure about this. But it’s been six months already, and they have been the best six months of your entire life.

Never has any other boy made you feel this way, so comfortable, so confident, so in love.  He was chaos and revelry in the best was possible, not like these other boys your parents had set you up with over the last years, just because they’re friends with their parents. He was the complete opposite of those boring boys, he had long and messy hair that you love playing with; he dresses in total black with ripped jeans, leather jackets and shirts with monsters painted on them; he’s loud and fun and hilarious; he’s so pretty and so hot at the same time.

There is no doubt of the way he makes you feel and you’re tired of hiding it. So yes, you knew it was going to be controversial walking in hand by hand, letting him hug you from behind whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you grab your things from your locker and kissing him goodbye before separating to each’s classes for the whole school to see. But you weren’t expecting World War Three.

“There you are, pretty girl” he greets you again at lunch.

“Hey you” you greet him back and go to kiss him, wrapped up in your own world when you’re interrupted by a fellow cheerleader behind you.

“Stay away from her!” Sarah protested. You both look at her in shock.

“What?” Eddie asks confused.

“Whatever it is that you’re doing to her, stop it!” she demands angrily, it’s kind of funny.

“Sarah, what do you mean?” you can’t contain the chuckle that escapes mid-sentence.

“What’s going on?!” she asks in complete confusion.

“He’s my boyfriend, he’s not doing anything wrong to me” you explain to her—actually, to the whole cafeteria who’s just as confused and angry as Sarah is.

“What do you mean your boyfriend? Honey, he’s…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, shooting you a look that speaks volumes, her eyes widen and her eyebrows as if saying You know exactly what he is.

Eddie starts giggling but hides his face in your shoulder trying to act modest. You fail to hide you smirk.

“He’s my boyfriend and I love him. I don’t really see the issue here” you put an end to the conversation and walk to his table where he starts introducing you to his friends.

“What a mess” Hannah whispers to Sarah while playing with her pearl necklace.

However, the real problem started when you got home, one that could not be ignored by just laughing about it.

Sarah and Hannah had talked to your parents about Eddie and you. And your dad did not like those news at all.

“You can’t see him anymore, this nonsense stops right now” he demands.

“But daddy, I love him!” you scream.

“Love? You can’t love someone like him. You’re acting crazy, come to your senses and don’t be a fool!”

“No, I’m not coming to my senses. Please, you don’t understand! Just try to get to know him at least!”

“For the love of God, he is crazy! Don’t you see it?” he exclaims

“But he’s the one I want” you cry.

“No! Go up to your room now, I don’t want to listen to this anymore” he didn’t let you say one more word as he slammed the door in your face.

-

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you hear Eddie’s concerned voice through the phone.

“Can you come over? Please” you don’t explain just yet, you just needed him here.

“Of course, I’ll be there in ten” he doesn’t even stop to think about it, immediately saying yes.

“Climb through my window, I’ll leave it open”

That night you only managed to sleep thanks to him, he was the one giving you the peace and calming that you needed. He was the one making your heart flutter.

And for that reason you decided you would not give up so easily. You could not just give up on this thrill he brought into your life, your wild boy and all of this wild joy.

This is why your judgmental ‘friends’—if you could even call them that—still had things to say about your relationship.

“We just want what’s best for you”

“I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that” you started, acting reluctantly, “I’m pregnant”

Every single one of them yelled a perfectly synchronized ‘WHAT?!’And you nodded.

“I’m having his baby” you admitted and they looked at you horrified and shocked, you couldn’t contain you laughter anymore. “No, I’m not, but you should see your faces!”

“We are not joking around! Could you take this seriously?”

“Girls, if all you want is boring and insignificant for me, then it’s just meaningless and it’s still my choice to make” you explained, starting to think that they’re not ‘trying to save you,’ they just hated you.

“But think about your reputation. What would people say about you?”

“I’ll tell you something, it’s still my name and mine alone”

“Please, just think about-“

“Oh my god! I swear, I’d rather die right now than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning! Really!” you interrupted them and without letting them say one more word, you finally left.

-

For the next month you had to sneak around to be able to see Eddie, since your dad had forbidden you to ever see him again. Obviously, that wasn’t even a choice. You were going to see him whether your dad likes it or not. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

So you get out of your house after lying to your parent telling them you were meeting one of the girls for a project. Your mom looked at you warily because she noticed the pretty dress and the make-up you were wearing, but she didn’t say anything about it. She wasn’t the judgemental person your dad was.

You walked two blocks away from your house and there was that Van you knew all too well by now, waiting for you.

You went to his trailer, you couldn’t really do any other plan for a date. You still couldn’t go out in public much if you wanted to keep seeing him.

“What movie should we watch?” you ask him.

“I didn’t rent any this week, I just have the old ones we already watched” he answers.

“Oh” you mumble as you go through the couple cassettes he has. But he’s right, you’ve already seen those a thousand times. He hears your sigh.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just didn’t think we would have to keep hiding here even after telling everyone about us” he explains.

“I know Eddie, but- I’m dead if my dad finds out I’m still seeing you” you insist but he doesn’t say anything back. He’s dozing off thinking about something.

“What if I just go talk to him?” he proposes after a few seconds.

“What?” you question him in disbelieve. He can’t mean that literally.

“No really, what if he meets me in person? I could talk to him, introduce me, do all that ‘what my intentions with your daughter are.’ Maybe he’ll come around”

“That won’t work with him Eddie, it’s just gonna be a really unconfutable moment between you two. Believe me, I know him” you explain.

“But what other choice do we have? Are we just gonna keep hiding until you move out?” he questions.

“I- I don’t know, but at least this way I can still sneak around and see you. If I keep insisting with this, he’s just gonna lock me in my bedroom forever” you started getting nervous. You were so stressed out that no one would believe or even listen to you when you want to explain how Eddie actually is to you.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m always gonna be here” he calms you down by hugging you. Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer.

When Sunday comes around, you were setting the table to eat with your family, your dad cooking the meat on the grill, your mom dressing the salad. You hear a knock on the front door, but you weren’t expecting anyone today.

“Honey, can you get that?” you mom asks you.

When you open the door, your eyes must be deceiving you, it has to be that. You’re just imagining him because you miss him and he’s just always on your mind.

“Hey” he softly greets you noticing the surprise on your face. And you confirm you’re not imagining anything.

“What are you doing here?!” you whisper-shout at him.

“Okay- I know you told me not to do this, but I really think it could work. Just give me a chance sweetheart, I mean… my charm worked with you after all, maybe it’ll work on them as well, who knows?” he winks playfully.

"Honey! Who is it?" your mom appears from behind you to see. Eddie presents himself politely, giving her flowers even.

"Oh, thank you Eddie, I didn't know you were coming over" she comments confused.

"I just wanted to introduce myself so you could actually get to know me, and not what... some other people say about me" he explains calmly. He acting so respectful that you're biting your tongue to not make fun of him.

"Of course dear, come in" and just like that, he has your mom absolutely delighted with him.

But as I said, your dad is the tough one.

Eddie goes outside to talk to him, he asks you to leave him go alone for a second and that he'll call you if he needs you.

You let him go by himself but still, you're standing at the door spying on them. You can't hear anything, but you see Eddie talking and your dad listening with a straight face. He's acting tough to intimidate him. But Eddie doesn't seem faced by it, he's just explaining something in the nicest way possible. If the hellfire guys were here to see him, they would never let him live this down.

"Honey, don't bite your nails" your mom tells you after a while.

"I'm just really nervous"

"I know, they've been talking for a while now" she agrees, "want me to go see how it goes?"

"Or should I go?" you start questioning but as if you had called them, your dad and Eddie walk in. You look at them expectantly.

"Can you help me outside?" your dad asks you and you nod quickly. You try to read Eddie's face but he seems relaxed, could it be?

After going outside he stands in front of you and takes a few seconds to choose his next words.

"I'm sorry"

"What?" you whisper. You can't believe what you just heard.

"I owe you an apology for not listening to you when you explained it" he starts, "and I owe him and apology for misjudging him"

"Really?"

"Yes dear, I hope you can forgive me and... I just want you to be happy, and I can finally tell that he is one who makes you happy" he admits and you go hug him before you even think of it. Somehow, now even your daddy just loves him.

Eddie stays for dinner that day and it's beautiful to see them all getting along. You separate from your old friends and find new ones who don't judge you and actually care about you and not what other's might think. Eddie and you stay together and finally have dates outside of his trailer or your room. You officially meet Wayne and he adores you, but Eddie's not surprised about that, he knew it wouldn't take much giving how adorable you are. People still have things to say about you two but you learned not to care about it.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x popular!reader #taylor swift fic #taylor swift #the tortured poets department

[lululandd]

content;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1177

warning: fluff, reader is into plants

notes: inspired by an instagram reel that @/myscprin sent (this fic is also on ao3)

summary: it started out with a stupid potted plant. 

Soap had drunkenly bought him one and would not stop whinging until he actually took it home. The man also had the audacity to ask him how the plant is doing, weeks after.

“Fine.” He lied. They were probably browning on his balcony, in a worse condition than he last saw them. It was funny; exciting even, to water the first couple days, having something easy to take care of, but then he saw signs of it not going to make it and subsequently avoided them entirely. Closed his blinds so he doesn’t have to see them die for good measure. The work call came immediately after, and he’s glad he doesn’t have to see it again for a couple months. He can just use work as an excuse next time Soap asks about the dead plant and be done with it.

But it wasn’t done with. Work took eight months, and gathering the courage to just step out to be greeted with a dirty balcony and a dead plant took two weeks extra. But it wasn’t dead. It was thriving. He might be remembering wrong—which is rare for him—but he could’ve sworn the pots were actual terracotta instead of stone painted to look like terracotta. Its leaves are supposed to be brown, or yellow, but they’re now different shades of red, some even resembling wine. Confused, he went back in and kept the blinds closed, joking to himself that maybe it just disliked seeing him, and was better off left alone.

Or so he thought.

The next day he came back to the balcony only to be greeted by a wet patch of floor, and droplets of water on the leaves. It didn’t rain at all yesterday, so either there's a leak that landed right where his plant sits, or someone watered his plants for him. His suspicions landed on the apartment above his neighbour’s, since they’re the only one with an abundance of plants on their balcony. Even though they shared fire escape stairs, and could easily come down to his portion of the balcony, he doubted they would walk down the stairs every single day just to water his plants. So he wanted to see how they did it. Perhaps just hose it from afar? Since they did horribly miss his pot today, from the evidence of excess water on the floor.

How mistaken he was.

It was a weekend, and as soon as he woke up and got his tea and digestives, he sat with his blinds barely open and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Until he saw your figure, half covered by the curtains, waltzing right to his plant and watered it as if it was your own. You were there for at most two minutes before walking back upstairs and out of his line of sight.

This has to stop.

Quietly, he took the plant off the balcony and into the apartment, setting it down on an unoccupied dining chair. The plant might seem normal on the balcony, but indoors it looked out of place. It was as if his whole apartment felt smaller and devoid of colour as he stared at it.

Ghost was cleaning a shelf the next day when he heard a loud gasp outside. His reflexes got the better of him and opened the door to see the girl on her tippy toes looking down as if searching for something, and then turned back to look at him. They both stared at eachother like a deer in headlights, although in their heads they’re the deer and the other is the headlights.

Ghost was a deer for not taking good care of his plant, hiding it, and opening his balcony door in record time, and the girl was also a deer because she got caught going to someone else’s balcony to water said plant.

“Sorry, I—“ They both started at the same time.

“Oh, no, I’m sor—“ They started again.

The girl raised her free hand, “I’ll go first. I got scared that your plant fell or something. Sorry if I startled you.” As she said her gaze fell onto the plant in question sitting (unhappily) on the chair.

He looked back at it, “Brought it in to brighten up the place.” He lied. He didn’t even like it. He didn’t  like it being indoors, making his already measly living quarters feel even more barren. For some reason her face brightened.

“I have some plants that are easy to take care of, if you want more? I have some that doesn’t need sunlight that much so you can put it in th—“

“No.” What in bloody fuck was she thinking. Did she forget why she watered it in the first place? Is she daft? “Thanks. I go on work trips often.”

To his confusion her face brightened even more. “I can take care of them while you’re away, if you’d let me?”

Oh.

He had fallen right into her trap. Dead fucking centre. If he perceived her as an enemy he’d kill her there and then. But no part of his instincts or his sharpened mind saw her as one. It was his ego talking.

“Nah. You fancy him?” He pointed at the plant.

She shook her head, “I have no more space at mine.”

He went back and reached for it. “Tell you what. I’ll put this boy right back out here. And you can have half of my space for your shit. Sounds good?” 

Unfortunately for Ghost, the girl’s wide grin and sparkly doe eyes got burned in his mind for good. 

“You mean it?”

“Yeah.”

Work called him to Iceland not a week later and he spent the next few months barely seeing the sun. The country lacked sunlight, which was good for clandestine missions, but he could feel it took a toll on his mental health. Those artificial UV lights made his body feel better but his mind longed for the real deal. So that's why as soon as he got home he opened his curtains to its fullest to bask him and his apartment in some warmth. It took him about fifteen minutes to process what he was seeing. The girl really did take half his space. The space that made him rearrange his apartment layout completely so he could sit down on any chair and still have a view of said space. She had filled it to the best of her abilities while still making way for him to walk onto. Different plants with leaves of varying colours and sizes sat on colourful pots. He spent one morning just sitting there with his tea, trying to spot silly little frog statues half hidden underneath the growth.

It had been a while since he felt something other than dread when he got home, it was the first time in his shitty little apartment that he felt a smile creeping up his face, and it was the first time in what seemed to be forever that he felt.. content.

part 2

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty imagines #call of duty #scuffed writing #it sucks when i love angst but can only write fluff

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

No One Here Is Alone

Elks Chapter 2

Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: Joel has you over to begin your mural for him. Two nights of painting, two nights of Joel making you dinner, two nights of him always looking at you the way he does, and one walk home under a shared umbrella. Chapter Warnings: None really, it's just soft Jackson Joel making you spaghetti and soup. You drop paint on your thigh and Joel watches you clean it up. Joel brings you a pillow for your aching knees. Words: 4,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Just a reminder that this is super soft. Definitely very little angst and conflict. Sometimes it's nice to escape with a big ol' comfortable Joel Miller blanket.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist

*** “Radio Cure” by Wilco. 

It’s Monday evening and you’re too nervous to begin the week. You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, stood in front of Joel’s house clutching your messenger bag stuffed full of art supplies. Three quick knocks on the door and a deep breath to steel your nerves. 

“Hi,” Joel greets you as he opens the door, “come in.”

“Hey,” you try to calm your smile when you see him grin down at you. 

"Let me show you the room where I'd like it."

Joel leads you into his home, to a makeshift studio of sorts right off of the living room. It's filled with various wood workings, half carved animals, shelves of tools, and a long work table. You'd never expect it, but Joel is an artist like you.

You love the space, it's so open and warm. Lived in and utilized, you're so happy places like this still exist in people's homes.

A couple of guitars well past their time sit leaning against a wall.

“You play?” You ask as you nod towards them.

“Been playing almost my whole life. You?”

“Same, my guitar broke a few weeks ago,” a sad sigh escaping, “there’s a big hole in the side now.”

“Bad luck. Your stereo and your guitar?”

“Afraid so. It’s very quiet in my house.”

“They’re broken over there, but I just haven’t gotten around to fixing ‘em, I’m sure I could easily repair one for you.” 

“Joel, you— that’s very nice, but I wouldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“No, s’okay, I like fixing things.” 

“Wish I could fix things. By the time I would be done with trying to repair something it’d be a pile of sawdust.”

A huff of air releases out of Joel’s mouth, his smile making a dimple you’ve never seen before appear. God, he’s gorgeous. “You’re funny, I can see why Ellie likes you.”

You can feel a blush creep up your chest and bloom into your cheeks. “Where would you like me to draw the mural?” Your question used as a way to cut through the nervousness inside of you. 

“Was thinking over on this wall with the window, I can see it from my chair in the living room.” 

The wall is large and empty. You’re not sure if the cream hue is the original paint color or colored that way from age. It’s a perfect spot.

“Good choice. Do you want the whole wall?”

“The whole wall.”

“Just bluebells?”

“Just bluebells.”

“Perfect.”

You take the pencil resting in the chest pocket of your overalls out, place it against the wall, and begin to lightly sketch a bluebell on Joel’s wall. You can feel his eyes on you, his large body taking up most of the doorway. You urge yourself to focus on your art and not the fact that you can hear his inhales and exhales echoing against his walls and floorboards.

Joel clears his throat. “I’ll just be in the kitchen making my dinner, did ya’ eat?”

“No,” you say turning back to look at him, “but I can eat after I’m done here.”

“Have more than enough here for another person, Ellie’s at Dina’s tonight. You like pasta?”

“Of course I do, I’d starve if I didn’t. Shelf stable.”

Joel chuckles, “I’ll be cookin’, just holler if you need anything. Help yourself to any of the supplies I have in here.” You nod as Joel turns and walks down the hall. 

You go back to sketching as your mind floats around how everything already feels so comfortable with Joel, he’s been nothing but kind to you, nothing like the hushed rumors and stories that float all over Jackson about him. 

— —

“What a beautiful face,

I have found in this place,

That is circling all ‘round the sun,

What a beautiful dream...”

The hairs on the back of your neck stick up as the music begins. It’s been quiet for the past half hour, the only sound is Joel moving about in the kitchen and your pencil against the wall. He’s playing your CD. You’re all alone and yet you still try to clear the grin that’s formed on your lips. You tuck your pencil behind your ear and walk to the kitchen to find Joel moving the pot of cooked pasta over to the sink to drain. You try not to stare at the way his biceps stretch the sleeves of his shirt, the steam floating into the air around him, he looks like a dream. Domestic bliss, it’s the only way you can describe it, happening right in front of your eyes. 

“Neutral Milk Hotel,” you say as you stand in the doorway. You begin to rub your daisy pendant, you wonder when he’ll notice it’s a tell whenever you begin to remember the past. 

“S’a pretty good song.” Joel turns toward you, his eyes moving to focus on your fingers moving along the petals.

“Thanks for putting this on, I missed hearing music.”

“When’d your player break?” Joel’s eyes still focused on your daisy pendant. 

“A little over a week ago at this point. I lived without a stereo for close to 15 years. Went through all of my 20’s without hearing my music while I was in the QZ, my CD’s sat in a crate next to my bed all those years. I got used to them existing almost like photographs, circular snapshots of memories… silent and incapable of their original use,” you muse.  “When I got here and walked into my house the first thing I saw was a small boombox on the shelf, I almost passed out when Maria told me it worked. It had to be repaired a few times and Gordon kept warning me that it wasn’t built to last. Took it to him the day after it broke for good and he let me know nothing could be done. I felt like I lost a limb.” You ramble sometimes, you know this, you always have. You like talking, especially when you’re comfortable. Joel makes you comfortable. 

“M’sorry,” Joel says as he begins to dish the pasta and sauce out into two bowls.

“Thanks, I still have other things to fill up my time so it’s not as bad as I’m making it seem. I know it’s a luxury and I know I can live without it. It’s just… the noise kept me company, you know?” 

“I do,” Joel says as he places the bowls of food on his table, his eyes still not leaving you.

He’s always looking at you, watching you, as if he can’t look away. You’d do the same if you weren’t so scared he’d catch you. You sense Joel doesn’t care if he gets caught. 

You sit down at his table. The glow of the sunset filtered through the window sets everything in an orange tone. Coffee rings cover Joel’s wooden table top, a sign he probably never cleans up his mug until after he’s home in the evening. The smell of tomatoes, garlic, and onion from the bowl of pasta in front of you tantalizes you.

“This looks delicious,” you say as you pick up your fork.

“Sauce was made by Maria, she takes pity on my kitchen skills and makes sure Ellie and I are well fed.” 

“She’s great,” you say through a bite. “So is Tommy.”

He nods.

You fall into a shared silence as you both eat. You can’t even think of the last time you had dinner with a man, let alone one that that cooked for you.

“This is my favorite song on your CD,” Joel speaks up as a slow and haunting song starts to play.

“Cheer up, honey I hope you can,

There is something wrong with me,

My mind is filled with silvery stars”

“‘Radio Cure’ by Wilco. One of my favorite bands. My only CD of theirs is so scratched it no longer works… this is the only song I have now.” 

You sit back and close your eyes as you listen and mouth the words. 

“S’beautiful,” Joel says as you open your eyes and find him watching you again. “The song’s beautiful.”

Your heart skips a beat at the way he speaks his words out. So soft and deep, you wonder if he talks to anybody else this gently. 

“If you like it, keep my CD, please. You’ll get more use out of it than I will now.” 

“I’ll borrow it until you get a new CD player,” Joel says as he stands. “You’re welcome to come over and listen whenever you want. You can bring your other CD’s over if you’d like.”

“Goodness. I appreciate that.”

“Glad to help.”

“I”m going to go back to drawing before it gets any darker,” you take your bowl over to Joel, “I really enjoyed dinner, thank you.”

“‘Course.” Joel takes the bowl from your hand and deposits it into the soapy water.

You go back to the woodworking room, pick up your pencil and continue delicately sketching flowers on his wall. 

— —

“It really, really, really could happen,

Yes, it really, really, really could happen

If the days they seem to fall through you

Well, just let them go”

You hum along to your favorite Blur song, the eighth track on your CD.

“Did ya’ want another light in here?” Joel’s deep voice shocks you. You jump and spin staring wide at him leaning against the doorway. You don’t know how long he’s been there. “S’getting dark in here.”

“Joel! Y—yeah, that would be great. I just want to finish up the first outline tonight.” 

Joel nods and heads over to the large cabinet in the corner and pulls out a work light as you turn back.

“This’ll help,” he grunts out as he plugs it in and turns it on. “It’s lookin’ really… nice so far.”

“Thanks, I love the process of beginning a large piece like this, it makes me so excited for what it’s going to look like when it’s all done. Breaking it down into small steps first and then once they’re all connected it makes one cohesive piece of art.” You’re talking too much again. 

“No wonder Ellie’s always so excited about art, when you put it all that way.” 

You nod without looking back at him, choosing to focus on your sketches. You wish you could just choose to stay quiet sometimes. 

“Just going to be in the living room reading my book, lemme know if I can help.” Joel offers.

“Thanks.”

You hear him sigh as he sits down in his chair. The chair he can sit in and look at your mural, the chair he can sit in and watch you work. Your insides twist as you feel like you’re being watched by him, you like it. 

You round each small petal making every flower perfect for Joel’s eyes.

Sometimes you hear a page turn in between tracks, sometimes you hear a sniff or a throat clear, you actually wish there wasn’t any music so you could only hear Joel.

— —

“Okay,” you step back from the wall shaking out and stretching your overused hand. 

“Finished for the night?” Joel asks as he stands and walks into the room. “It’s really beautiful,” he says as he stares at your preliminary sketch.

“Thanks, there’s still a lot that has to be done, but I’m really happy with how it’s looking so far.” You back up to stand next to him. “When do you want me to come back?”

“Tommy and I’ll be on patrol tomorrow until Wednesday night, Thursday works?”

“Yep. Same time?”

“Same time. I’ll make dinner again.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“S’okay, I want to.” 

“If you want to,” you say as you bend over to pick up your bag. “I’m going to head home. Close to my bed time.”

He watches as you blink your tired eyes. His mouth forming a half smile as he watches you hide a yawn.

Joel accompanies you to his front door. “G’night. See you Thursday.”

“Good luck on patrol. Good night.” You walk out of his house without looking back at him. Joel’s watching you again, you can feel it. 

You go home with the wood smell of Joel’s workshop permeating your clothing and your skin. You sleep in your shirt because it smells like his home. 

— —

Thursday, you find yourself at Joel’s in your overalls again. Though today you’re wearing your oversized flannel for warmth and shielding yourself and your box of paints under an umbrella from the pouring rain. Joel opens the door before you’re able to knock.

“Come in, was lookin’ for you so you didn’t get stuck in the rain,” he says as he grabs your umbrella and closes it.

“Thanks, it’s awful out. How was patrol?” You step into Joel’s house and take your flannel off.

“Same as usual.” Joel takes your jacket from you and hangs it up on the hook over his coat.

“Well, that’s a good thing,” you say as you walk into Joel’s woodworking room and place your paints on the floor.

“That your book?” Joel asks nodding to the faded black leather portfolio with tattered corners covered in faded stickers. 

“Yeah, I brought it over.”

“Haven’t seen something like that in years. Can I look at ‘em?” Joel asks. 

“Go ahead, find something to play. It’s your stereo. Don’t tell me what you pick, I’ll be surprised.” 

You love hearing the soft thud of the page landing as Joel flips through it.

“Don’t recognize most of these names.”

“What kind of music do you like?”

You roll out your brush holder, picking out the brushes you’ll need.

“Rock, country, little bit of blues.”

“Country? Really? How typical Texas of you,” you joke. 

“Good country. Real country. Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, ’n the like.”

“I stand corrected, Texas.”

“Hmm,” he grunts as you begin to lay your chosen paints on the countertop. 

“Found something,” Joel says.

“Can’t wait to hear what you pick,” fishing your palette out of your bag.

Joel leaves the room with his chosen CD as you squeeze dollops of green out on to the palette. 

A bluesy rock guitar intro with a steady drumbeat begins to play as you mix emerald and olive tones together.

“Haven’t heard this song in over 20 years,” Joel says as he walks back into the room. “Liked The Rolling Stones.” 

You kneel on the floor to begin painting green stems. Slowly and smoothly raising your body up to finish each stem tip. You feel Joel’s gaze follow you. 

“Never thought I’d see somebody paint like this again,” he says from the doorway.

“It’s my favorite thing to do.”

“Can tell.” The gentleness of his voice causing your skin to prickle. “M’excited to see how it’s going to look when it’s done.”

“Me too.”

You hear Joel take a deep breath. “I’m gonna go finish cleanin’ my guns,” he says with his exhale. “I’ll be in the dining room if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” you twist your torso to look back at him with a smile, paintbrush in hand as a large dollop of green drops on your exposed thigh. Joel’s eyes dart down to the blemish on your leg, his eyes widening as you grab your paint stained rag and wipe the paint off. He quickly realizes how hard he’s staring and strides away. 

— —

“Hey, it’s pretty nasty out there, d’ya want that work light again? Sky’s gettin’ real dark,” Joel asks interrupting your focus. 

“Yes, thank you,” you answer as your focus remains on the the petal you’re working on.

You hear Joel pull the light out, the same small grunt as yesterday leaving his mouth as he bends over to plug it in. 

“You been kneeling on the floor like this for long?” he asks.

“Yep, it’s not so bad while down here.”

“Ya’ still have the hurt knees and you’re kneeling on the damn hardwood floor,” he mumbles as he leaves the room. 

You’ve gotten used to people not concerning about such simple things like your personal comfort, Joel’s worry for you making you feel a foreign feeling. 

He returns and holds a pillow out for you. “Here, grabbed ya’ this.”

“Oh, I’m okay, really, I don’t want to accidentally get paint on it.” 

“Don’t care, take it,” he pressures.

You take the pillow, sticking it underneath your already aching knees.

“Feels much better, thank you,” you say as you wiggle back and forth on the fluffiness. 

“Welcome.” 

A large sigh leaving his pursed lips grabs your attention, and you turn to look up at him. His eyes look down at you, meeting yours, the hazel flecks glowing in the golden light supplied by the work lamp buzzing in the corner. He sticks his tongue out to wet his supple lips, you let your focus move down to watch. He reaches a hand out towards your cheek, and places his thumb on it, the rest of his fingers cradling your chin in his hand. Your lips part as you inhale deeply, a chill taking over your whole body. The music from the stereo beginning to sound like its playing underwater as all of your other senses dull themselves so you can feel Joel’s touch.

“Thank you again, for doing this for me,” Joel tenderly says. “Been thinking ‘bout how nice it’ll be to look over and see this once it’s finished… reminding me of home.”

“O-of course Texas,” you stutter. Your eyes still focused on his mouth. 

“Mm,” he grunts at you, head slightly nodding. 

L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L-L

“Shit, I forgot this song always does that,” you say as he pulls his hand away. 

“I got it.” Joel turns and quickly walks out of the room.

“You just have to skip to the next track and it should work!” You shout as your skin still tingles from where his hand rested silently cursing your scratched CD.  

The track changes, the interruption long gone, just like Joel’s touch. You return to painting, calming your body and emotions in the aftermath. You don’t hear from him until well after the CD finishes and the house falls silent.

“Dinner’s ready,” Joel says rapping on the doorway shocking you out of your art trance. “You got a lot done, s’looking really good.” The shared moment the two of you had just an hour ago seems far away from Joel, so you try to do the same. 

“Thanks,” you say standing up from your bent over stature and placing your paintbrush in the jar of water.

“Just come to the kitchen when you’re all done in here.” 

— —

“Hope you like turkey and barley soup.”

“Any soup makes me happy.”

“Good,” he says putting a bowl down in front you. “This one I actually made, Maria didn’t hafta take pity on me for this meal.”

It looks delicious and smells divine. Joel’s set the table for you. A tattered cloth napkin folded underneath a soup spoon, a glass of water to the side, you notice the coffee stains have been wiped up. 

You take a bite, the warm soup sliding down your throat, perfect for a chilly rainy day, it’s good. “Joel, this is… really, really delicious.”

“I’m glad you like it, haven’t cooked for anybody ‘cept Ellie in years.” 

“You did boil me spaghetti earlier this week too.”

“Hmph,” he chuckles, “right.” 

You and Joel quietly finish your dinner, hungry from your full day of work and painting. You should be nervous in this situation but the way Joel handles himself in front of you, as if he’s perfectly comfortable with you in his home makes your nerves quiet themselves.

“What was your favorite food before …everything?” you ask as you sit back in your chair.

“Don’t really know, maybe tamales? My mom used to make them every year for the holidays, I could eat six of them in one sitting.” 

“I loved tamales, too. God, I miss Mexican restaurants. You know, I just remembered margaritas. I used to always see people drink them when we’d get Mexican and I always thought that looked so cool. I never got to try one.” 

He gives you that same look he gives you, as if he could listen to you talk for hours. Nodding along with a half smile. “What was your favorite food?” he asks.

“Fettuccine Alfredo, one hundred percent. My mom used to make it for me every year for my birthday, if we went to an Italian restaurant, it’s what I’d always order, definitely Fettuccine Alfredo.”

“Never had it, always just stuck to pouring a jar of Ragu over spaghetti or a frozen lasagna.” 

“I miss those too. I miss just being able to have cheese whenever I want so much. What we have now isn’t the same.”

“Mm,” Joel nods, “kinda like the ice cream we have. Not the same, but good enough.” “Isn’t that the motto of these times? ‘Not the same but good enough.’”

“S’a good one,” Joel pauses, “you’re funny.”

“Thanks,” you push a strand of hair behind your ear feeling Joel’s eyes follow your movements as he gets up. 

You stand, grabbing your bowl to follow Joel over to the sink. 

“You seem to be almost finished in there,” he grabs the bowl from your hand and deposits it into the sink.

“I am, I think I only have a couple more hours of work left.” 

“Don’t want to keep you any longer tonight, know you got work tomorrow and know it’s a lot being down on the floor like that for as long you were.” 

“Yeah, they’re aching. When do you want me to finish it?”

“Tomorrow at the same time, if you want.” 

“That works, might be a little late. Fridays are always busy for me, with the end of the school week.” 

“‘Course. I’ll be here, so take your time.”

“Is it okay if I leave my things in the room? If not, that’s okay too I can take them ho—” 

“S’fine, don’t mind at all,” Joel interrupts as he puts his hand against your back, “I’ll walk you home, s’getting late and it’s still raining.” 

“No, I’ll be okay, I’ve walked through much worse.” 

“Don’t care. I’m walking you home, it’s pouring.”

He grabs your flannel from the hook, grasps the shoulders open and holds it out for you as he gives you a small nod. You smile as you walk forward and turn, sticking your arms in each sleeve, and putting it on. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, goosebumps appearing on your skin from the closeness.

“Course,” Joel breathes out as you step away from him to grab your backpack.

“You really don’t have to d—“

“Now, stop telling me I don’t have to, I want to,” mild annoyance tinging his voice as he shrugs his jacket on and picks up your umbrella. 

“Don’t you have one as well?” 

“No, never got one.” Joel opens the door and motions you to go ahead of him. “S’a nasty storm today, I think it’s going to be just as bad tomorrow.” 

“It’s good for the crops and the water reserve at least,” you shrug as Joel holds the umbrella over you. 

Rain pelts Joel as he holds the umbrella over you as you turn onto the road.

“There’s enough room for both of us under here, there’s no sense in you getting soaked,” you say moving closer to his body.

“Y’sweet,” he faintly murmurs as he moves the umbrella over both of you. You almost think you imagined it, being able to barely hear it above the pitter patter of raindrops landing on the nylon atop your head. 

The two of you walk towards your home, your bodies occasionally tapping against each other as Joel huddles over you. You wish you could walk slower, elongate your time next to him, stay under the security of the umbrella, next to his broad body you feel safe..

“That’s me, right there,” you say nodding your head towards your front door. 

“Y’got a cat?” Joel asks as he sees your cat Penny sitting on your windowsill backlit by your lamp.

“Yeah, two of them. You like cats?”

“Even if I did, couldn’t have ‘em, allergic.”

“That’s a shame.” 

“Hm.”

Underneath the safety of the awning of your front porch, Joel closes your umbrella and hands it to you as you tap your wet boots against your frayed welcome mat.

“Well, thank you again, I’ll see you tomorrow?” You say as you rest your back against your front door.

“See you tomorrow,” Joel says as he peers into your eyes before turning around to leave.

You watch him leave your little yard, turning back around at your fencepost to nod at you before continuing down the road in the dark rain. Joel Miller just walked you home.

A/N: Oh soft Joel, you're too sweet and thoughtful. Next chapter is a little shorter, but for good reason, there may or may not be a finished mural and a first kiss. :) Thank you again for reading!

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