#this one was so fun to curate I just know he’d be dancing around his room and dramatically mouthing the lyrics to most of these

[leenfiend]

~ lance is totally thinking about how pretty keith’s eyes are and doodling hearts in his notebook while listening to this playlist ~

keith version here

#the perhaps anticipated companion piece to my Keith playlist hehe #Lance listens to funky music and bedroom pop and u can’t convince me otherwise!! #this one was so fun to curate I just know he’d be dancing around his room and dramatically mouthing the lyrics to most of these #Klance #vld Klance #vld Keith #vld Lance #Klance fanart #vld fanart #voltron legendary defender #voltron #my art #fan playlist

[roosterforme]

Just Desserts | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Rooster only has eyes for his girlfriend and her baked goods. 

Warnings: Fluffy Smut

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Based on this fun request from an anonymous friend!

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? but it can be read on its own!

Check my masterlist.

Early Saturday morning, Bradley went out to play a round of golf with some of the guys. He had left you sleeping in bed, just pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he left. He had promised you he would return around lunchtime and spend the rest of the day and the entire night with you. 

He was getting close to his next deployment, and he had initially scoffed at the idea of forfeiting even a few hours of your day off together, but you had got on him about being more social. So he accepted the golfing invitation from Bob, Hangman and Coyote.

Turns out you were a genius, because he ended up having a great time playing golf, kicking back a few 'breakfast' beers and hanging out. Bob was the only good golfer in the bunch, so it didn't really matter that Bradley lost a few balls along the way and that he had to fudge his score on the 15th hole. 

And now he was heading back home to you. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he audibly groaned. "Smells so good in here," he mumbled, taking in the sight before him. You were in the kitchen, wearing your I Love Meat apron that he bought for you randomly one day when he saw it. And you were surrounded by cupcakes, muffins, pies and brownies. One of your perfectly curated playlists was playing on your phone next to a stack of cookbooks. 

Then it clicked. You had mentioned you needed time to work on things for the Navy's bake sale with the San Diego Children's Hospital. Apparently you volunteered for this fundraiser every year, and Bradley had promised you weeks ago that he would be your personal taste tester. 

"I'm back, and I'm ready to work!" Bradley said as he kicked off his golf shoes and headed into the kitchen. "Give me stuff to sample."

"Hey, Roo. Did you have fun?" you asked, and he wrapped his arms gently around your waist from behind. He kissed the side of your neck as you unwrapped some sticks of butter. He thought you looked extra cute in your sweatpants and tee shirt with your hair piled on top of your head. And there was a smudge of flour on your cheek that he really wanted to take some time to kiss away. 

You always made him feel like this. He couldn't figure out if he was more horny or more loved up. He wanted to romance you and tear your clothing to shreds at the same time. It was very confusing and oftentimes overwhelming, but he usually just went along with it.

"Yeah, golf was fun. Thanks for making me go," he whispered next to your ear. He didn't want to distract you too much, since you seemed to have a lot of baking to finish. "Can I help at all, Baby Girl? I know how to separate eggs now, remember? Or I'm more than willing to sample what you've made."

With a grin, you turned in his arms slightly and kissed his lips. "Want to try one of the brownies for me?" you asked, nodding your head toward a tray cooling on the island. 

"Yep." He cut himself a large square and took a bite. Of course it was perfect. "So good, it brings tears to my eyes, Sweetheart," he mumbled around another bite. 

"Good. Now try a blueberry muffin," you instructed him as you set two beautiful looking pies in the oven. 

Bradley ate a muffin in three bites and moaned. "Delicious, Baby Girl. Can I try a cupcake?"

"Sure, they're cinnamon spice with cream cheese frosting," you said, but he'd already eaten half of one. And now you were mixing ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon, kind of dancing along to the music playing, and Bradley really couldn't help himself. 

He stood behind you and kissed your neck again, letting his hands come to rest on your hips. "And what about this? Can I try a sample? It looks so pretty, I'd love to eat it."

You giggled and then gasped as Bradley slid his hands to the front of your hips, in between your sweatpants and your apron. He rubbed himself against your butt and you moaned, "What are you doing, Roo?"

He grinned into your hair and kissed your ear. "I heard you like meat."

You burst out laughing, and he was so happy he had bought you that apron. He loved making you laugh, and tried to make it a daily priority. 

"I like your meat," you whispered, still laughing. 

"Think you can take a little break, Sweetheart?" Bradley untied your sweatpants and slipped his hand inside the elastic band, caressing the soft skin of your belly. You tipped your head back against his shoulder as he drew little circles with his fingertips next to your belly button. 

He let his fingers trail lower until they toyed with the top of your underwear. Your phone started playing I Only Have Eyes for You, and Bradley sang along.

'My love must be a kind of blind love,

I can't see anyone but you.'

You whimpered and spun in his arms so you were facing him. Now his fingers were kneading into your lower back. You looked up at him, and he was struck by the expression of desire on your face. 

'Are the stars out tonight?

I don't know if it's cloudy or bright. 

I only have eyes for you.'

"Bradley," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you. You and he drifted slowly around between the kitchen counter and the island, dancing to the song. Your languid kisses were making him dizzy. The lazy way you moved him around the kitchen and the softness of your sighs was mixing with the sweet smell of baked goods. 

Everything took on a hazy quality as Bradley untied your apron and tossed it gently aside. "I love you," he whispered before claiming your mouth again. Your fingers tangled gently in his hair, pulling softly on his scalp; Bradley was practically panting at your touch. He wrapped his arms around your waist until you were flush against the front of him. When his mind registered that you weren't wearing a bra, he groaned. He gazed down at you between kisses. A different song started playing, but his brain couldn't tell what it was. He couldn't focus on anything but you. 

He watched your tongue flick out of your mouth, and you licked his chin and then his lower lip, and soon he was devouring you, pulling your lip between his teeth and nibbling. "Good enough to eat," he murmured as you pulled his golf shirt over his head.

You giggled as you ran your hands over his bare shoulders and chest. "I agree," you whispered, placing open mouthed kisses just below his collarbones before licking the scars on the side of his neck. Bradley's head tipped back as your fingers connected with the button of his golf pants, and when you guided them down his legs along with his boxer briefs, he had to bite his lip. You were placing gentle kisses to his thighs and along the length of his erection.

He hauled you up to your feet and wrapped his arms around you, backing you up against the counter. "God, Baby GIrl, you feel better than anything." He kissed you hard as your legs tangled with his, and he held you upright, delving his tongue into your mouth. 

Bradley was dimly aware that you were pulling your shirt over your head, and he watched some strands of your hair fall around your face. You were gorgeous like this, your eyelids half closed as you bit your lip and looked up at him. He shook his head slowly, taking it all in. 

When he guided your sweats and your underwear off, he wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, setting you gently on the edge of the counter. Your hands immediately went to his chest, and you yelped, but he wasn't going to drop you. Then you welcomed his lips back to yours as you scooted to the edge. Bradley could feel the warm wetness of your opening pressing against his length when you spread your legs open for him. He adjusted himself so you were perfectly lined up, and he wrapped your arms around his neck before wrapping his hands around your waist. 

He kissed you gently, reverently as he pushed himself inside you. You sighed into his mouth and he moved in a slow, steady rhythm, in time with the sweet melody playing from your phone. He would remember this moment when he was deployed; he'd play it over and over again. Knowing he could come back home to this, to you, made everything okay. 

You ran the tip of your nose along his cheek, kissing him there and whispering his name. Your voice spurred his movements, and he pushed himself into you harder and harder without picking up the pace. He watched your breasts bounce each time he bottomed out, and you tipped your head back, guiding his lips to your neck. He sucked on your soft skin, biting you and nuzzling against you. Then he soothed you with his mustache and his tongue. He only wanted to make you feel good. 

He could feel you starting to squeeze him, so he slid his knuckles back and forth along your belly before settling his fingers on your clit. He gathered some of your wetness and teased you closer to coming. When he wrapped his other arm around your back and pulled you hard onto his length, you cried out, your voice breaking on his name.

Unable to control himself, he fucked into you with faster strokes, nearing his own end as you wrapped your legs around him, riding him to completion. Once you were both panting, and he was just thrusting his cum further into you as his thrusts slowed down, Bradley realized that the kitchen timer was going off.

"Sweetheart, what's the timer for?" he rasped next to your ear, nuzzling against you. He didn't want to pull out of you yet, but he needed to in order to reach the timer. He fumbled with it, distracted as his cum dripped from your pretty pussy and onto the counter. 

"Umm," you hummed, biting your lip and running your hands through your very messy hair. "I ummm... the pies? I think I put pies in the oven?"

Bradley nodded and shoved your oven mitts onto his hands, he carefully pulled both pies out, setting them down gently on the stove burners. He turned to you, and you winced when you saw them. They both had slightly burned edges and very dark tops. 

"I'll still eat them!" Bradley offered when he saw your face. "And I'll love them!"

You cradled your head in your hands and laughed. "This is because you're never quick, Bradley."

"Okay, okay," he said in mock-defense, tossing the mitts onto the counter. "You can complain about a lot of things when it comes to me, but do not complain about that, Baby Girl."

"It was merely an observation, Roo. Not a complaint," you said, giggling as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you senseless. 

Then after you cleaned up, he helped you bake two new pies while he ate one of the burned ones directly out of the pie pan with a fork. 

--------------------------------

*sigh* Thanks anonymous friend, I really loved writing this one!

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[semifilms]

☆SONGS THAT REMIND THEM OF YOU | sakusa kiyoomi, atsumu miya, osamu miya, tsukishima kei, hinata shoyo, sugawara koshi

cw - none

sakusa is definitely the type to listen to music when he cleans. the type of music he listens to however…i personally think he listens to like classics and oldies in several languages. more specifically he listens to french music. so imagine him wiping down windows of your shared apartment when la vie en rose by édith piaf comes on and he cannot help but smile at the thought of you. he immediately wonders what you’re doing in that moment even if he knows you’re at work or running errands

atsumu is obviously listening to music when he’s at the gym. he doesn’t wanna hear sweaty people working out. his gym playlist is just a curation of all of his favorite songs and there’s no single genre left out. he listens to everything and i mean everything. but the song i imagine him lip syncing to when he’s on the treadmill that causes him to smile a little bit is lost by frank ocean. he may not get the full message of the song but when he hears frank naming those major cities all he can think about his taking you to them.

osamu is making dinner for you guys with his music playing. he much unlike his brother has organized playlists for different things. when he’s cooking he really likes listening to jazz and soul music. every now and then just the two of us by grover washington, jr and bill withers comes on he is humming along while stirring whatever is in the pan in front of him and thinking about slow dancing around the living room with you. how lever you are still not out of the shower and he is still cooking.

tsukishima has a set playlist for songs that remind him do you. he has his headphones in almost 24/7. it was also his idea that you guys have a shared playlist on spotify. let’s not act surprised. out of the collection of songs though the one that actually makes himself smile the hardest and think do you because of the lyrics is kataomoi by aimer. the song is so sappy though so when you seen him smiling while his earphones are on and asks what he’s listening to. he’s either gonna lie and tell you a song that the complete opposite or just straight up say “nothing.”

shoyo is on his way to pick you up for a little date and when he gets stuck in traffic. he decides to turn his music up a little bit to entertain himself and when he hears the song that starts playing he grins so hard and turns it up even more. now he listens to almost everything as long as he thinks it’s catchy or likes the message of the song. sh hearing I THINK by tyler, the creator he immediately thinks of you because it played once on the radio when the two of you went to the states and he’s been hooked to it ever since. that song will always be connected to you and he will constantly think about how much fun he has with you all the time.

koshi loves playing music when he’s in his lunch break in his classroom. normally when students are in the room he just plays instrumentals so they don’t get too distracted but once they’re off at recess he switches over to his personal music. my jinji by sunset rollercoster plays and he immediately thinks about calling you hoping you’re not busy. this would be the only time he’d get to hear from you today until he gets home. so he does call you and take to you for a bit when you ask why he called he tells you “i was just thinking about you, that’s all.” and you just smile at each other for a moment. which gets cut short because now he has to go get his kids from recess 😒

©semifilms do not copy, repost or translate my works

reblogs appreciated!

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[litgwritersroom]

can you please write the background story of ozzy hooking up with the mystery celebrity??

LET ME BE YOUR WOMAN

Ozzy / MC - 5000+ words - @mrsbsmooth NSFW

It’s professional. It’s strictly professional.

Ozzy rolled his neck, stretching the tension from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous.

Being a choreographer was his dream job. The choreography videos he’d posted on social media had been fun to make, but he’d never imagined he’d get this big. Dance classes with a waitlist four months long. Invitations to choreograph music videos and international tours. Working one-on-one with celebrities and popstars, all to great success.

But he’d never worked with someone as famous as Brooke Barrow.

Millions of fans. Tens of millions of albums sold. A twenty-country international tour that had fans getting in fistfights over merchandise. And in just a few minutes, she’d take the podium as the biggest celebrity he’d ever taught.

He cast his eyes around the studio one final time, wiping a smudge from the floor-to-ceiling mirror with a silent curse. Did he have time to go over the whole thing again? He checked his phone. No. But he did have a text from Marshall.

Snogged yer worldie yet?

He frowned.

She’s not my worldie. She’s a client, he typed. This is professional.

The dots danced at the bottom of his screen as the reply came instantaneously. Professional my arse. I can feel you sweating from Essex.

Ozzy rolled his eyes, setting his phone to do-not-disturb.

Maybe it wasn’t strictly professional.

All the celebrities he worked with were gorgeous, but she was like something out of his imagination– though he supposed he wasn’t alone. Curves like murder, eyes wide and innocent, skin like a summer evening; bronze and glowing and warm. Hair like silk, and lips you couldn’t help but want to bite down on. FHM, Maxim and Playboy had tried beating her door down for years, not one of them successful; her “good girl” image hadn’t aligned with the type of photo spreads they’d want to put her in.

But things had changed. The label said she wanted a rebrand; a sexier, more grown-up persona better suited to her now 22-year-old self. The issue was that the label thought she had absolutely no idea how to look hot when she danced. She needed help to nail it for her next video.

And she’d requested him specifically.

They’d spoken on the phone many, many times, to clarify the vibe she was after, or discuss the preparations and stretches she should be doing beforehand. They got along great. She was a professional, but still wonderfully friendly, something he’d come to understand was rare among celebrities. She put on those sequin shorts she was famous for one leg at a time. There was nothing to be nervous about.

He made the last few adjustments to the studio, breathing steadily to calm himself down. He had the choreography down, he’d recorded it and it had been approved by her management team. Everything was set and ready to go. He just had to teach her how to do it, that was all.

But as the studio door flung open, he suddenly felt a little queasy.

God Damn.

Her perfectly curated Instagram had nothing on what she looked like in person. She was unreal, a loose, white t-shirt hung off her shoulders, exposing the hint of her brown skin. The flash of a black sports crop stretched over her perky breasts. Tiny, skin-tight shorts he was sure Lululemon never intended to be so pornographic, and heels; sky high, lace-up heels he’d told her to wear, knowing she’d need to be dancing in them on stage.

He had to avert his gaze, shaking some sense into himself as he greeted her with a smile and an outstretched hand.

“Brooke,” he said, as politely and professionally as he could. “I’m Ozzy, great to finally meet you.”

“Ozzy!” she grinned, smiling with recognition. She took his hand, shaking it gently, but didn’t immediately let go. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you in person, I really am such a fan.”

Ozzy’s eyebrows shot up. “A fan… of… mine?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Huge fan. I swear, about 50% of the views on your Youtube videos are from me and my friends.”

“Well, thank you,” he laughed, feeling a lot more at ease. “That’s really nice to hear. I’m glad you enjoy them.”

“Enjoy is one way to describe it. My friends would call it “drooling over…” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. She bit her lip, and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face.

…What?

He couldn’t help the rush of adrenaline that flooded his veins. Jeez, his dancing had helped him with women in the past, but… he definitely hadn’t expected—

Was Brooke… flirting with him?

He was suddenly a little at a loss of what to do. Flirting back would’ve been insane, not to mention crazy unprofessional. He couldn’t get a rep for flirting with his students. But… he knew this choreo– he’d created it himself. It wasn’t exactly “leave room for Jesus” type of dancing. So maybe a little harmless flirting would help her to feel less… exposed.

He glanced down at their still-enclosed hands, and looked back up at her, only vaguely trying to hold back the heat in his eyes.

“Well,” he said, a cool confidence in his voice. “I’ve obviously seen all of your music videos, too. Maybe we should leave it at that… for now.”

He held her gaze, and she bit those beautiful lips again, his eyes lingering on them. Brooke released his hand with a coy smile, placing her bag down on the floor in the corner of the studio. She pulled a water bottle from it, wrapping her lips around the mouthpiece of it, tapping it gently against her lips after taking a sip.

“So,” she said. “Where do we begin?”

*

Ozzy showed her every move, running her through it in sets, slowing her down and adjusting her position as she followed along.

But she wasn’t getting it.

She was rigid. Stiff, even, like she was embarrassed to fully let go.

“I’m so screwed,” she groaned, flopping to the floor to take a drink of water.

“No, you’re not,” Ozzy chuckled, sitting down alongside her. “You’ve got the steps down perfectly. You’re just too stiff.”

She sighed, tucking her leg underneath her as she turned to face him. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make being sexy so fucking easy?”

Ozzy’s eyebrows twitched upward, and he couldn’t help but look her over once more. God, she looked so fine with a sheen of sweat over her body, the glow on her skin like she’d been kissed by sunlight.

“You’ll get it. You just need to loosen up. Let go a little.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know how,” she complained, pouting at him.

He laughed, getting to his feet. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out his hand, helping Brooke to her feet, and she let him pull her up with a huff.

Ozzy led her to the mirror which spanned the breadth of the wall, turning her to look at herself.

“Okay, do the leg sweep.”

Brooke did a rigid leg sweep, her hands firmly on her hips.

He raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t jazz dance, Brooke. Make it slutty.”

She giggled, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, you’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” he smiled.

“Oh, God, how on earth do I do that?”

Ozzy frowned at her. “Come on, Brooke, you’ve seen people dance seductively. Arch your back. Swing your hips. Run your hands over your body.”

He counted her in, and she tried, running her hands awkwardly up her body. She turned, looking hopefully at him, and he shot her a look of disbelief. Brooke blushed, and Ozzy shook his head, teasing her with his gaze to let her know it wasn’t that serious.

Then, he had an idea.

He’d used it many times, and it always worked. Every single time. He switched to the playlist one of his dancer friends had made him. She said it went hard in the Basildon dance crowd.

“You like clubbing, right?”

“...Yeah?”

“How do you dance in the club?”

“Awkwardly.”

Ozzy laughed. “I highly doubt that.”

Brooke grinned at him. “Yeah, alright, I’m probably a little more relaxed. But I’m usually drunk. And it’s dark.”

Without another word, Ozzy walked over to the door, and switched the lights off.

The studio plunged into darkness, the only light the emergency light over the exit. It was perfect, casting a deep red glow over the room, leaving her in almost full darkness. That deep maroon was the only thing allowing him to see her, and even then, only just. He hit play on the remote once more, smiling as the lyrics started.

Nails, hair, hips, heels, ass fat, lips real

Purse full, big bills, bitch I'm a big deal

Ozzy turned the volume almost to the max, and he took her hand.

“Pretend I’m not here,” he said. “It’s just you, dancing with your friends. Or dancing around your kitchen. No one’s paying attention. No one else is here.”

Ozzy started moving on his own to encourage her, and after only half a minute, he saw Brooke starting to move as well. She was hesitant, but quickly realised she could barely see him, gaining the confidence to start subtly dancing in time with the music.

“Yes,” he smiled. “That’s it.”

She huffed a small laugh, moving a little more confidently.

“Now you’re gonna walk,” he said, moving back across the room. “Or more like…, strut. Towards me. Step to the music.”

“What’s that gonna do?” she asked.

“Get you in touch with your body. And make you feel confident. Toss your hair over your shoulder, stop to dance, do whatever feels right. Just move in time with the music.”

He could just make her out in the low light, her brow furrowed as if she wasn’t sure, but he smiled encouragingly at her. As his eyes began to adjust, he saw her walking toward him, the click of her heels on the studio floor perfectly in time with the beat.

“Great!” he called, “Keep going!”

He began walking backwards around the room, drawing her towards him, and Brooke began laughing.

“You’re moving away!”

“Yeah, I know. Keep coming to me.”

“Ozzzzyyy–” she complained. “I feel stupid!”

“Good thing no one can see you, then, isn’t it?” he teased.

It wasn’t long before she started letting go a little.

As Todrick Hall started instructing her through the song, she started following along.

Drop for me, drop for me, drop

Pose for me, pose for me, pose

Striking dramatic, confident poses, or pausing to do a dramatic slut-drop, she was laughing her head off in no time, loosening up her movements as he finally stopped moving away. Brooke was having so much fun, she didn’t notice him stop, colliding into his chest with a thud.

“Oof,” he groaned, catching her by the upper arms, laughing.

“Oh my God, sorry!” she giggled. “I was getting too into it.”

“Good!” He grinned. “It’s a good exercise to get in the right headspace.”

“Can we keep going?” she said. “That was really fun.”

He slipped the remote from his pocket, hitting next, and Brooke burst out laughing as a deep, sultry rhythm started.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “Is this Buttons? Whose playlist is this?”

“Mate of mine. She loves making dance playlists. This one’s called ‘Hoe town, population me’.”

Brooke burst out laughing. “And you thought that was a good playlist to put on for me?”

Ozzy suddenly blushed, absolutely embarrassed that she might think he’d done that on purpose.

“God, Brooke, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Shhh!” She laughed. “It’s exactly the vibe I need. I love this song.”

She took his hand, twirling herself underneath it, swaying in time with the beat. She was rolling her head around, relaxed and carefree, her shoulders beginning to follow as she sang along to the lyrics. And as she sang, he couldn’t help but watch her.

You've been saying all the right things all night long

But I can't seem to get you over here to help take this off

The way her mouth formed every word, her tongue flicking gently and her teeth biting at her lip as she began to move. Jesus Christ, she was sexy. He felt his body starting to react as she joined her hands with his, lifting his hands into the air between them. He couldn’t help but step a little closer, bringing them to the side as her body heat began to radiate against his.

Brooke began winding her body, moving her hips in time with the music. She lifted his arms again, turning herself underneath them, and wrapped them around her shoulders. He tried to keep some distance between them, knowing they didn’t need to be dancing so closely, but before he knew it, she’d pressed back against him, their bodies moving together.

“Can you show me how to do those body rolls you were doing before?” she asked, her voice soft and innocent.

Jesus, he was getting hot under the collar.

“Sure,” he said, pulling her just the necessary amount closer. He reached around her, pressing her back into him. “Chest first, shoulders back, then arch your back, pushing your stomach forward. Roll it through, then grind your hips back.”

He pressed his chest into her back, his hand pressing her shoulders back against him. He rolled her with him, her body bending flawlessly with his, ending with her guiding her world-famous ass back.

Directly into his crotch.

She had it straight away, rolling her body against his in a way that had him glancing up at the ceiling for mercy. Her perfume was intoxicating, rich and sweet like caramel and sea salt, and he inhaled deeply as she pulled her hair to the side. He could still hear her singing; it was like a distraction to her, pulling her out of the studio and onto the stage.

Take a chance to recognise that this could be yours—

She began to grind herself back against him, and his heart began to race for real. She felt so good against him, her hips winding into his… but his mind kicked back in.

Professional. Shit. Keep it professional.

“Looser,” he whispered. “Let go of your hips.”

She sighed, her shoulders dropping a little as she immediately became disheartened.

“I can’t do this,” she said, exasperated.

“Brooke,” he said. “You can.”

“I can’t,” she said, stopping altogether. “I just can’t move my body like you can.”

Ozzy frowned to himself. She was almost there when she thought no one was watching. Whenever it was just her and the music, she was perfectly on beat, playing and having fun with it, moving with flawless rhythm. It would take so little to get her there. He just needed to get her out of her own head. Relax her. Get her thinking about something else entirely. He swallowed, hard. Because there was only really one way he could think how.

People acted differently depending on how they were feeling, and there was one mood that he knew would help her. The one that curbed shame and increased risk-taking.

He could turn her on.

“Would it help if I guided you?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

“Please,” she groaned.

“I’ll have to touch you a bit though. Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, “but I don’t think–”

Brooke’s voice cut off halfway as he pulled her body flush to his, and she gasped a little at his sudden taking of control.

“Hips,” he demanded. ”Roll them, like you were before.”

He gently brushed her hips, but her movements were static, so he gripped her harder, guiding her firmly into the movement he wanted to see. Side to side, in a one-two grind, swaying her with the music.

“Oh,” Brooke said, her voice quiet. “So…”

He felt her begin rocking into his hands, and he leaned in closer, speaking into her ear so she could hear him over the music.

“Yes,” he hissed. “That’s it. Now hands.”

He didn’t wait for her to try, taking her hands and placing them on her stomach.

“Run them up your body,” he said, covering them with his own. “Touch yourself like you would want someone else to touch you.”

He traced her hands over her taut stomach, guiding them up over her ribs, brushing her breasts and squeezing them with her own hands. Brooke gasped, but Ozzy didn’t stop, dragging them up over her collarbones and onto her neck. He splayed them on her skin, threading them into her hair.

“Ozzy,” she whimpered.

“Don’t be afraid to get into it,” Ozzy whispered. “If it turns you on, you’re doing it right.”

Brooke’s breath fell heavy, and he released her hands, letting her guide them over herself. He watched her in the mirror, her face glowing in the soft, red light, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up as she closed her eyes. Her hands threaded back into her own hair, and she tugged on it gently, trailing her hands onto her collarbones. She traced her fingers across them, and moved downward, her touch falling heavier on her breasts. She squeezed them together, much harder than he had, and kept going. Lower and lower, over her stomach, trailing down her waist, her hands like a magnet for his gaze as she directed them to the space between her legs. She spread them, bending low to the floor, and traced her hands up the back of her thighs, scratching her nails into the skin. She arched her back, touching herself over and over again.

And Ozzy realised he’d stopped dancing.

All this, right in front of him, an arm’s reach away but feeling like miles. Her body was so effortless, moving with all the beauty and elegance of someone who’d been dancing for a lifetime. He was absolutely entranced by her, the heat in his body like a fire in his blood.The song ended, and for a moment, the trance was broken. But as the next one started, he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop what was going to happen. Doja Cat was going to make sure of that.

The beat was low; seductive and sensual and sex in music’s form, and Brooke turned, gazing at him with deep, hooded eyes. She was in his arms before he could even pull her closer, her body pressed back against his as they began to move as one. He wrapped his arms around her waist, that intoxicating perfume curling into him once more, groaning as Brooke took his hands in hers.

She placed his hands on her, covering them with her own, just as he had, and began guiding him over her skin. Her hips, her waist, under her t-shirt, pushing them onto her breasts.

Baby, worship my hips and waist

So feminine with grace

I touch your soul when you hear me say

"Boy, let me be your woman"

Every drop of blood in his body was rushing south, and he grasped her in a way that was wholly unprofessional, knowing she could feel what she was doing to him. He moved her hair to the side, dropping his lips to her neck, dragging them from behind her ear down to her shoulder. God, he wanted to bite her, her skin tasted exactly like her fragrance, the sweetest caramel with the delicious taste of her sweat.

“Ozzy,” she whispered, gasping for a breath as she reached behind her head and threaded her fingers through his hair.

Jesus, this was already going way too far, but he couldn’t help himself. One hand was on her breast, stroking her rapidly hardening nipples through her bra. The other on her stomach, toying with the waistband of her shorts. Brooke was grinding her ass against him with a wind that would put professionals to shame, the roll of her body against his only drawing more and more heat from his breath. He had to stop this. He had to stop before it went too–

Before he knew it, she’d turned, and her lips were on his.

Ozzy picked her up, and a moment later, he had her against the wall, holding her thigh around his waist as he held her legs apart. Brooke’s hands were in his hair, holding him against her as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, whimpering with need as he began rolling his hips against hers. She tugged at his shirt, and he gladly let her pull it over his head, drawing an irresistible whimper from her as she traced her fingers over his abs. He pulled hers over her head as well, tossing it across the room, before pushing his hands into her sports bra.

“Fuck, yes,” she gasped, “Yes, Ozzy, please!”

He lifted the tight fabric higher, exposing her to him, and leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth. She held his head to her, her back arched, moaning with each flick of his tongue against the sensitive bud. Brooke reached down, slipping her hand into his sweats, stroking her fingers down his length as he groaned into her skin.

“Oh my Goddddd,” she moaned as she traced his full length. “I knew it, I fucking knew it.”

He couldn’t help it, his body completely on fire with every kiss of her palm against his tip. He couldn’t take it any more. He curled his arm around her waist, sliding it into the tiny shorts that had been tormenting him since the moment she walked in, and he took a handful of her ass for himself. He rolled the fabric down his wrist, exposing her, before pushing the shorts all the way down. She reached down, tugging them far enough down that they fell to her ankles, and she stepped out of them. She reached down for her shoes, but he stopped her, turning her face toward his.

“Leave them on.”

Naked except for her pushed-up sports bra and lace up heels, she stood like a goddess in front of him, every curve and angle of her body bathed in a cherry-red glow. His fingers traced her outline, admiring her for the work of art she was, before lingering on the heat radiating from between her legs. He pressed his fingers against her clit, starting a slow, steady rhythm, holding her legs open with his own as he pressed his hard length against her leg.

She tugged his sweats down, pulling him closer, and before he could even think about what he was doing, she was guiding his tip to her entrance. He captured her lips with his, groaning at how wet she was, and began to push inside her.

Brooke whimpered and moaned at his size, and he pulled back for a moment.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, kissing her softly.

She let her head fall back, exposing her neck to him, an opportunity he gladly took as he began kissing up and down it.

“No,” she groaned. “Oh my God, Ozzy, give me all of it.”

So he did.

Brooke gasped with each thrust, whimpering and moaning his name as if he was her favourite song, and he couldn’t help his eyes rolling back as he savoured her. Every roll of his hips was met by one of hers, drawing forward to meet him as if she couldn’t bear for him to not be inside her.

Jesus, he couldn’t believe she thought she couldn’t dance.

“Ozzy,” she groaned, and he paused for a moment, hearing the pain in her voice. “My heels. My feet are–”

Shit, he hadn’t even realised, capturing her thigh in his hand meant she’d been balancing on one heel. He released her, and she dropped to her knees, laying back on the studio floor, her hands against the wall. Ozzy kneeled in front of her, and she wrapped her long legs around his waist, urging him back toward her. He pressed back into her, his hands on either side of her body, and something came over him.

He’d never had a one-night stand before, it wasn’t his vibe. And almost as if he’d only just realised what he was doing, he paused for moment, looking down at Brooke’s exposed body.

Damn. He’d never had a one night stand before, and he wasn’t going to start now.

He was just going to have to make sure this wasn’t a one-night stand.

Ozzy smirked a little, glancing up at Brooke’s hands to make sure she was holding her hands steady against the wall…

And he danced.

He gave her every movement of his body that he had; hips, torso, thighs; rolling his body into her as he drew himself in and out of her, over and over and over. Brooke’s body wrenched underneath him, begging him with her thighs, squeezing him tightly as she held herself off the wall.

She caught a glimpse of them in the mirror to their side, and she gasped, panting his name with every thrust as she watched him build her toward her peak.

“Fuck, fuck,” she gasped, her voice damn near at a cry, every breath like a wave of curses and groans as she tried to hold back. “Ozzy, fuck, I’m gonna–”

She whimpered, her mouth falling open, and he almost chuckled at how fast he’d brought her there. But he couldn’t help but groan in response as she tightened around him, her strong thighs squeezing his waist as her walls gripped his length inside her.

“Oh Jesus, Brooke, yes,” he whispered, throwing his head back as he guided her through the waves of her climax. He gently slowed as she came down, rolling softly into her so as not to overstimulate her. But almost as soon as she’d taken a breath, she opened her eyes.

She looked up at him with the deepest, hooded eyes he’d ever seen, her full lips parted and her lips wet from his kiss.

“On your back,” she whispered.

Ozzy’s eyebrows raised, and before he could even tell her she didn’t have to, she had him on his back. Brooke slid him back into her, and he smiled up at her…

Until she started moving.

Up. Down. Forward. Back. Side to side and directions he didn’t even know existed. She was a full-body experience, her hips grinding into his, her hands gently caressing and scratching at his chest as she worked herself over him.

“Je–sus–christ,” he gasped, grasping for purchase with each grind of her hips. “Brooke, fuck!”

Her lips fell open, moaning as she watched him underneath her, and she glanced one more time at the mirror. He turned his own head, glancing at their reflection, and almost lost control. Every curve was on full display, her back arched, her breasts exposed, her every movement captured in glass and reflected back at him as he watched her ride him.

She caught his eye in the mirror, biting her lip and moaning as she took him especially deeply.

“Oh, God, Ozzy, you feel so good,” she gasped.

Ahh, Jesus, he was close.

He tried to slow her down, but Brooke had no interest in it, closing her eyes and lifting her pace. So he did the only thing he could do.

He started thrusting back into her.

He fell into her rhythm, meeting her hips with every movement, echoing and mirroring and taking back the lead. His hands left her hips, and he reached for her hands, bringing them to her breasts.

“Touch your body,” he demanded. “Brooke, touch yourself.”

She whimpered, squeezing her breasts the way she’d shown him before that she loved, and Ozzy grabbed her hip once more. He guided her with one hand, thrusting up into her, and brought his other hand to her clit, grinding his fingers against her as he watched her rolling her nipples through her fingers.

Jesus, the visual was too much, and he could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. He was so close, dancing so close to the edge, holding back for her, desperate to–

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Brooke, shit, shit–”

“Ozzy–”

With a sudden heave of her body, Brooke snapped, her head falling back as she came a second time. The tightness surrounded him, and he couldn’t have held back if he wanted to, exploding in a wall of gasping moans as he bucked up into her. The beat of the music pumped through him, the roll and wind of their hips together like a wave of ecstasy that they rode each other through. His fingers left marks on her hips, grinding her back into him with some unholy urge to come as deep into her as possible, and it only drew a darker gasp from Brooke’s lips.

They stayed like that for what seemed like an age, their hips rolling in perfect unison as they came down from the high together. Brooke collapsed on top of him, her body soft and limp against his, and he wrapped her up in his arms, completely at a loss of what to say.

“That was fucking incredible,” Brooke said, panting heavily into his chest. “If that’s what dancers can do, I need to get better at dancing.”

Ozzy laughed, stroking her back. “You seemed to have pretty good control of your hips from where I’m standing?”

Brooke lifted her head, glaring playfully at him, and smiled. “Glad you think so… now. But I think I can get even better.”

He kissed her gently, smiling back, a little amused at his own boldness. “Well, you’re doing classes with me five times a week for the next two weeks. So…”

Brooke giggled, and leaned over him, kissing him deeply. He groaned into her soft lips, holding her to him, stroking his hand through her hair before releasing her. She bit her lip, an adorably excited look in her eyes, and grinned at him.

“It’s a date.”

#litg #litg fanfic #LITG ozzy #LITG season 6 #LITG double trouble #MrsBSmooth #litg writers room #writers room #love island the game #ask #litg ff

[allthingsfook]

hi! if you're still doing ships i would love one! (but if not no worries lol)

im 5'2 and im a ginger. i have brown eyes and i have both my ears triple pierced and i have my nose pierced as well. my favorite past time is hiking. i love being outside and my friends make fun of me because i usually hike barefoot lol. i love listening to music and if im close friends with someone i will be making them a list of songs that make me think of them and sending it to them. i like just about any genre of music and i love discovering new songs and sharing my music with people. i also LOVE to dance. im terrible at it, but it's fun lol. my love language is definitely physical touch - but i usually try not to do it too much unless im really comfortable around someone. i also love to make crafts (crochet and wire jewelry) and i usually make all of my holiday gifts for my friends. im in school to study the classics (greek and latin language and civilization) and ill be working in archeology when im done. im also a martial arts instructor. ive also been told hundreds of times that i have camp councilor/theater kid energy lol. i think i just like to talk and i definitely talk with my hands a lot.

hope this is enough 🫶

Hello lovely!!! I ship you with….

Joshua!

Your whole blurb screams Josh!!!!!! I’ve never been more sure about a ship!!!

Josh would swoon over your style. Outside of his stage outfits, his style has grown to be pretty basic 😬 It looks like he’s getting a little more edgy with the Starcatcher tour coming up, ex: the earrings and cuffs. I see him sneaking into your jewelry box to find just the right earrings for the day.

If josh had more leisure time, I know he’d exist in nature. I think he has such a profound love and connection to it. If there is one person on the earth that wouldn’t judge you for anything, let alone walking barefoot, it would be Josh. If anything, he’d join you.

Josh also seems like someone that curates little music lists for special people. I feel like he prefers to do things like that instead of bought gifts because it’s more sentimental. I definitely think one of Josh’s love languages is gift giving. I don’t exactly know how Josh would adjust with someone who doesn’t identify with physical touch. So that’s great you are okay with that. On a normal day, Josh would be so lovey-dovey with you, but imagine the nights he gets drinking 🤭 He’d have his hands all over you!!

Guess what? Josh is a goofy dancer too! I can see the both of you closing down the bar, blearing the juke box until the bartender cuts you off, and the two of you spinning around the room. Your cheeks would hurt from smiling/laughing so much.

Josh would be one to model the crafts you make. If you made him a necklace or bracelet, he’d never take it off. The most special part of that would be when he’s touring, your see the videos and photos of him still wearing them on stage.

For your collage, I’m definitely going to include photos that give off camp counselor vibes 😆

Let me know what you think!!!

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf ships #gvf imagine #josh kiszka #josh gvf #peaceful army #joshkiszkaship

[twilightwriter]

⁺◟[ valentine's day wedding ] [ jacob black x f!reader ] *  [ one-shot ] ꜜ

[ 🖤 ] tw : fluff, implied smut

[ 🤍 ] synopsis : you and jacob black, friends since childhood, marry each other, and coincidentally, on valentine's day.

“You know I didn’t think you were the marrying type.”

Jacob’s brow rose at the start of conversation you’d chosen. Swaying from side to side, your dance as husband and wife. Everything was calm up until the wedding day – the lead-up was hectic and everyone was trying their best to make it to the wedding. He squeezed you lightly up until you were flush against him, head resting lightly onto your exposed shoulder.

Coincidentally you’d both decided on a wedding on Valentine’s Day. Jacob specifically had chosen this date for a reason – you would have a wedding and Valentine all in one. Your traditions melded well together as one during this special day.

“You didn’t think I was the marrying type? That’s hilarious, (Y/N).”

“No, no,” You mustered the courage to grin in his face. He got close enough to you that you could feel his breath on your lips. “I’m serious, I really thought you weren’t, Jacob!”

Weddings were your all-time favorite to attend when you were little. The dresses the bride wore, the romance surrounding it. Family, traditions, laughter and happiness. You’d never missed them—when each of your friends one by one got married and eventually went to curate their own lives afterward.

Eventually, you and Jacob had gotten serious and he proposed to you three years into your relationship. You were over the moon to be marrying the man who you loved, and coincidentally, imprinted on you.

“You can keep believing that little conclusion of yours all you want,” he chortled, spinning you by your hand when came the time to do so. You hummed as your returned to his side. “I’m not against weddings—it’s just—well, I’m not one for them.”

“Aha! I knew it!”

As you parted, your wedding guests clapped as the dance came to an end; now for the fun part—cutting the cake. Both of you approached the came to begin serving to everyone that attended. Until someone poked your shoulder. You turned to face the familiar pixie-haired young woman.

“Alice!” You brought her into an embrace. The only friend you’d managed to make at a time where your heart was broken and unable to be fixed. Behind her, the rest of the Cullens, you were happier than ever now. “I knew you guys would come, thank you so much!”

Jacob sauntered behind you and coiled an arm around your lower torso. Your kind-hearted nature overtook you and your mindset. Your wedding was now more than perfect. It was phenomenal.

By the time it was all over, you’d entered your new home together, alone. Bouquet still in hand and carried bridal-style by your new husband. You returned home now as (Y/N) (M/N) Black. He shut the door to your new home, built solely on your bond with one another. After setting you down onto your feet, you lifted the front of your dress to strut into the center of the home. “Wait, what day is it today?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m going to be spending it with the most beautiful woman I know.”

When you turned to look at him, Jacob had this expression on his face—you couldn’t pinpoint it—until he began beelining it toward you which alarmed you; so you started running. But it was no match for him. He’d managed to capture you again and pick you up right off your feet.

#twilight #romance #edward cullen #stephenie meyer #twilight saga #alice cullen #carlisle cullen #jasper hale #vampire #twilight: eclipse #breaking dawn #the twilight saga #bella swan #x reader #twilight x reader #twilight x reader insert #jacob black x reader #jacob black #stepenie meyer

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Blurb #9

Pairing- Spencer Reid x Female Reader

CW- none

Author’s Note- this comes from this ask by @leahblackk thanks so much for this love!! it was so much fun to write 💛 also sorry if it looks a little wonky I’m on mobile!!

Word Count— 2K (not really a blurb)

-

Studies show that the music we listen to at 14 years old is the most influential on our personality and development. Naturally, there’s some exceptions to this. Spencer, for one, tended to listen to classical music or the Beach Boys records his mother had around the house as a teenager. He still can’t listen to jazz without the bittersweet memories of Ethan coming back to haunt him. His music taste, in his opinion, didn’t really develop until Derek made him listen to his CDs on rides during their commute.

It wasn’t until he met his neighbor, Y/N that he learned just how impactful music can be on someone’s life. Spencer, despite Derek and Penelope’s efforts, doesn’t really enjoy modern music. There’s one expectation to that though: Y/N. Everytime she drags him over for late night dinners and movie nights, she always ends up putting a Taylor Swift album on her vintage record player. It’s like a ritual that either comforts her, hypes her up, or softens her heartbreak. Through the months that they’ve been friends, Spencer’s come to enjoy the music nights. There’s something about the way that she sings about love and life that is so familiar to Spencer. The day he realized, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Y/N makes all those magical, heartwarming, Taylor Swift songs make sense.

So everytime he goes over to her apartment, before he knocks he’ll listen for the music. It’s hard to not let his profiling instincts kick when he does this. Thanks to his eidetic memory, Spencer can recognize any of the songs with only a couple seconds of the lyrics.

On a sunny Monday, Spencer listens closely for the record player. He can hear the upbeat, dance tunes of New Romantics. Okay, he thinks. If Y/N is listening to that song, she’s probably happy. So he knocks on the door, a big smile on his face ready to listen to the happiest Taylor Swift songs with the girl he’s pining for and try not to reveal just how much he wants her to love him back.

“Spence! Come on, we’re dancing” Y/N shouts loudly above the music. Spencer doesn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her he doesn’t dance, so he takes her hand and dances his heart away.

In between the jumpy and laughter the song shifts. Y/N must be playing it from her Alexa because the next song is from a different album, Paper Rings comes on next. A song dedicated to the kind of love that probably makes the most sense to Spencer. He’d marry Y/N without any kind of ring- and that’s a terrifying thought.

“I love this song!” Y/N says, closing her eyes and dancing wildly, “You like this one too, right Spence?” she says above the loud music.

Spencer, unable to fully articulate how much he loves this song, decides to grab Y/N by the hand and twirl her around and around. She’s laughing and smiling, happy as she could be. Spencer’s thoughts shift from how beautiful she looks, to how easy this is. How simple loving her could be, but how hard telling her is.

The music slows, turning to Lover, a song that Spencer has dreamt of dancing with Y/N to on a white veiled occasion several times. This must be her happy playlist, Spencer thinks as she pull him close. They’re slow dancing and if Spencer closes his eyes and quiets his mind, he can trick himself into thinking she loves him back. Afterall she holds him like she does.

“I like this one the best,” Spencer whispers, his eyes still closed as he and Y/N sway to the beat of the song, “It’s comforting,” he explains.

“It’s a good wedding song,” Y/N says, resting her head against his shoulder, “like a first dance song,”

“It is,” Spencer says, “It’s actually in the proper beats per second to be a waltz, which is a common dance for a traditional first dance at a wedding,”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, pulling herself in closer to Spencer as she pets small circles into his soft cardigan. The spot where she touches leaves her mark; his heart has belonged to her for awhile now, but Spencer’s ready to give her whatever else she wants, “but dancing like this is also very nice,”

“Hmm,” Spencer says, not trusting himself to say anything else. The music switches again, and Spencer knows the song, probably before even Y/N. Dress comes on and Spencer really isn’t sure how he’ll get through listening to the sultry song that croons about pining after your best friend. Part of him seriously thinks he’s being stalked, because those songs perfectly encapsulate his love and his admiration for the girl next door.

“Oh, I got asked out on a date,” Y/N says, seemingly shocking Spencer out of his daydream, “at the coffee shop. His name is John, he seems nice,” she tells him, sounding a little nervous.

“That’s great, Y/N,” Spencer says, trying to put on a smile for his best friend, but fails to do so, “I’m happy for you,”

“Well it’s, you know. I think I just need to put myself out there and stop waiting around for my wild dreams to come true. Because after all your wildest dreams are just that, dreams,” she says, a little sadly.

“Call me after, Y/N, just to make sure you get home safe,” Spencer requests, he squeezes her hand, in what he hopes can be seen as a friendly gesture, despite him not wanting to let go.

“Of course, Mr. FBI,” Y/N teases, “Alexa, shut up! Hey, Spence, you want to order pizza. It’s been like a week since I watch Long Pond and I’ve got that itch that only listening to This Is Me Trying while stuffing my face with pizza and white wine can fix,”

“Sure, Y/N,” Spencer says, smiling through his heartbreak. He tries to not let Y/N see the tears that prickle in the corners of his eyes when the 1 comes on. It would have been fun, if he could have been Y/N’s “1”. Even in heartbreak, Taylor Swift can capture exactly what Spencer feels.

--

He almost didn’t bother checking by her apartment because he knew it’s her date with Jake or John, or whatever his name was. Spencer’s not a man to get jealous, he knows that Y/N doesn’t owe him her love just because he loves her. He knows that, but that doesn’t lessen the hurt of her falling for someone other than him.

As he walks by, Spencer’s ears catch the music coming from her apartment. He hears the unrecognizable twangy strum of the guitar and knows it’s going to be back news. Without thinking, Spencer rumages into his pocket, looking for his spare key to Y/N’s apartment. He unlocks the door and is greeted by Y/N’s cat, August, meowing at the door.

“Where’s our girl?” Spencer says, picking up the cat as he slips off his shoes, “hey, Y/N. It’s Spencer. I heard the music and I just thought I’d check in. I thought you were going out on your date?” he asks, finding Y/N curled up on the couch, with piles of tissues littered around her.

“Please, Spence. I’m a mess. I don’t want anyone to see me like this, especially you,” Y/N tells him, mopping her eyes up and petting her lap for August to jump up.

“Hey, hey, honey. You don’t have to worry about being a mess in front of me, I already think you’re amazing,” Spencer says, softly. He tries to gracefully avoid the spoiled tissues, he might be in love with Y/N, but he’s not in love with her used tissues.

“He-he stood me up,” Y/N stutters as a new wave of tears floods her face. Spencer leans over, shutting Alexa off. The sorrow, regretful tunes of Dear John turn off, leaving Spencer with the thought that it probably was an appropriate song to choose.

“I don’t even know why I try any more, Spence” she says, leaning into his body as he puts a comforting and protective arm around her upper half, “it’s useless. I’m doomed to be alone,”

“That’s not true, Y/N,” Spencer says, mumbling into her hair, “not at all. You’re amazing. You’re kind and so smart. You’re beautiful and you have great taste in music. Anybody would be lucky to date you,” he finishes, forgetting himself for a second as he kisses her hair. She smells like green apples and ivory soap.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my friend,” Y/N says. The emphasis on ‘friend’ giving Spencer a little hope at what she is subtly implying.

“What-what if I wasn’t? What if I wasn’t saying this as just a friend?” Spencer asks, daring to be bold and brave for once in his life. He couldn’t be bold and brave for Y/N, then who is he?

She must be thinking, because Y/N doesn’t say anything. Spencer’s mind instantly switches into full gear, thinking of how he’d get out of here all while sparing his feelings.

“Please don’t say those things, Spencer. Don’t say those things unless you mean it,” Y/N tells him, her voice sounding cold and far off, like she’s trying to put some distance between themselves to protect herself. Spencer’s mind ventures to take it as a good thing, when she doesn’t physically distance herself. She decides to stay with Spencer’s arms wrapped around her upper half and his hands drawing shapes on her back.

“I mean it, Y/N. I really do mean it,” Spencer says, sounding terrified, but feeling braver than ever. “I’d never lie to you about how you make me feel. Not anymore at least,” he explains, waiting for Y/N to respond.

“Can I show you something?” Y/N ask, her voicing sounding an awfully lot like Spencer’s with the mix of fear and tension and love fighting for dominance.

“Of course,” Spencer says, nodding into her hair and letting her go.

He watches and waits as she grabs her phone from the coffee table. Y/N launches her music app, but covers her phone so Spencer can’t see which playlist she’s choosing. Y/N has very curated Taylor Swift playlists kko that help her to either middle through her dark days or celebrate her happy ones.

The music starts and just within the first few notes Spencer can tell which song is playing. “Gold Rush,” he asks, of course getting it correct and making Y/N smile.

“I knew I kept you around for a reason,” Y/N says, scooting in closer to Spencer so his chin rests over her head. “I don’t think you’ve heard this playlist yet,” she says, handing him her phone.

Spencer looks at the phone, reading the playlist title Songs That Remind Me of Spencer, but ends up having to do a double take.

“This song always reminded me of you, Spence. I think it just captures how beautiful you are and how scared I am that you’ll find someone that will make you feel that way. Someone that’s more beautiful and better for you—“

Spencer can’t hear it anymore so he does something that was only a figment of his imagination: he kisses Y/N. He holds her head in his hands, brushing gently on her temples. It’s wonderful and magical, and Spencer thinks that he could kiss her for his whole life. He wants to know what makes her whimper and whine or make her flush. He wants to know everything about her because he is her 1, just as she is his.

“You made a playlist for me?” Spencer says, breaking away from Y/N’s lips to kiss her face. All over her forehead, her cheeks and eyes. He kisses her like he can’t get enough and is only encouraged by Y/N giggles for approval.

“Of course I did, Spence. You’re just everything to me and I couldn’t quite say it myself. So I left it up to the best songwriter I know,”

“I’ll make you one, today. Tomorrow, everyday,” Spencer says, kissing Y/N’s hands and wrists, “I just want to make you happy and know how loved you are. Because I love you, Y/N” Spencer says

“Spence,” Y/N says, not quite able to articulate how much she loves him, kisses his forehead, “I love you. God. I love you so much. And I may or may not have re-written Hey Stephen as Hey Spencer,”

#spencer reid #spencer reid blurbs #Spencer Reid x reader

[dontaskmetodivide]

HIII I was wondering if you could do a one shot smut thing of Y/N and H getting high at a party and then like you sneak away and have a rough quicke? No pressure

based off this ask!! i most certainly can do this, hope you enjoy. i totally got carried away with the weed parts, but i couldn’t help it. i love writing bad ass girl characters who know what the hell they’re doing when it comes to smoking lol. 

tw: smut, posessive shit ig, yeah thats it, idk how to do tw

Harry’s tight grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you balanced as people on the make-shift dance floor are being knocked into you from every direction. Niall’s house party had definitely gone a little overboard, but you’re still enjoying yourself even if the night had only just begun.

The room smells of sweat and alcohol and you can almost see the condensation on the expensively decorated walls from all the bodies crowding the place. Colored strobe lights are the only thing illuminating the expensive penthouse living room and the bass from the speakers can be felt through the floor and up your feet. 

Harry doesn’t enjoy these parties as much as you, and while you were both homebodies at heart, you really did enjoy just letting loose and having fun once every now and then. 

You knock into your boyfriend’s body as he abruptly stops to slide open the balcony door. You had only just arrived and said hello to a few guests, stopping at the bar top after Niall begged to do group shots, before Harry was trying to escape the crowded living space. 

As he pulls you onto the balcony over looking the Colorado city below, the cool night air hits your skin and it feels like you can sigh of relief, finally getting a chance to air the sweat off your body that had so quickly accumulated. 

“Styles!” You hear to your left, both you and Harry turning your heads to see Liam and Zayn, as well as another party goer you hadn’t met before, sitting around a glass top table with a few ashtrays on top. “I told you he’d show.” Liam smacks Zayn’s shoulder who is puffing a blunt between his lips, not paying attention to Liam. 

Harry leads you to the table, sitting in a chair first before pulling you sideways onto his lap, lingering his hands on your thighs. “In the flesh.” Harry announces his entrance with a forced smile. 

Liam flicks his lighter on the dull end of his joint, rekindling the flame, and then tosses it to Harry, who catches it amazingly in one hand. You lace your arm around his neck and connect your hands on the side of his shoulder, hanging onto him like a koala bear. The contact causes Harry to lean forward and press a quick kiss to your cheek, almost out of reflex, before reaching into his front pocket of his very loosely buttoned shirt. 

He pulls out a joint and brings it to his mouth, letting it hang between his lips while he cups the flame from the lighter in his hands and brings it to the end of the joint. He lights it and lets a the first puff of smoke leave his mouth before he inhales a deep breath, the cherry butt lighting up brighter, and then he’s blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth after holding it for a second. 

The other boys at the table have already drifted into their own conversation, so it feels quite peaceful between you and Harry at the moment.

One of your favorite things to do with Harry on special occasions is smoke. Well, smoke and then fuck. You both are the kind to get super turned on when you’re high and it works perfectly for nights when you both just want to relax and spend time together. You never do it too often, neither of you wanting to rely on drugs or sex for any parts of the relationship, but it is definitely a sweet treat when the occasion arises. 

He repeats his movements from before, inhaling the smoke, holding it and exhaling it, keeping his eyes focused on his hands as he taps a small amount of ash off the end of it and onto the concrete patio flooring. 

To hell with the three ashtrays on the table, right?

His eyes flick up to yours, silently asking if you want some so you nod. He watches the joint as he places it between your lips, your two finger instinctively coming up to grasp the joint from him. As you puff on the joint, Harry’s olive green eyes trace over your face, repeatedly landing on your eyes and lips. 

You take it out of your mouth, jumping at the chance to attach your lips to his, not wanting to wait any longer to kiss him. He inhales the smoke for your lungs, quite literally taking your breath away, and when he pulls back to release the smoke, tilting his head straight up to the sky, you can’t help but let your mind wander as your eyes trace over his feeble neck. 

“Tha’s supposed to be my move.” He says as he looks back at you with a grin, but you just shrug and smile softly. 

“Sue me.” You tell him under your breath and you can’t help your eyes going back to his lips. 

“You wanna go-” Harry starts saying quietly, inching your faces closer before he gets unknowingly interrupted. 

“So Styles,” The man that I do not know starts saying, which makes Harry clench his jaw as he turns his attention to the cock block. “How’d your bet go on that game the other night?”

The conversation steers straight to sports topics, and you begin to find your only entertainment in the weed on the table, you and Harry quickly finishing the previously rolled joint. You turn your back to Harry so you can face the table, making sure to swivel your hips in just the right place to tease him, which has him harshly gripping your hip as he tries to remain focused on the conversation at hand. 

You take your time as you roll a blunt with the supplies on the table, trying your best to keep it all together in one piece. Harry always makes fun of your scrawny blunts, but you’ve been getting a lot better at rolling, especially with his help. 

You follow all the steps to curate the best blunt you can, focusing so intently that the conversation in the background has drowned out. You unpack a swisher sweet, unroll it, empty most of the tobacco, grind up the weed on hand, pepper it into the tobacco paper, and finish it by licking the seal shut, slightly crisping it with your lighter. 

Once you’re finished and your astonishing masterpiece is complete, you lean back on Harry’s chest, exhaling with relief. He wraps his arm around your stomach while still keeping his attention on whatever they’re speaking about, even though Harry is barely talking. 

You hold up your freshly rolled blunt in his eye line, forcing him to give you attention. “Tell me that’s not the best blunt I’ve ever rolled.” You snicker while twirling the thin stick in your finger tips. 

He hums in response, the sound going straight into your ears from his chest since you’re pressed so close together. “Beautiful craftsmanship.” He applauds as he raises one of his hands to take the blunt from you and inspect it more closely. You drop your hands to your chest, reaching in front of you to grab a lighter from the table. “I’d say you have one hell of a teacher.”

You sit up and shuffle around to be sat sideways on his lap again to share the joint. You enjoy the blunt in comfortable silence this time, just taking in each other’s motions and movements while passing it back and forth. You can tell you’re both way more high than before you smoked this one, but it’s only adding to the intensity between you two. 

Harry has excused himself from the conversation at this point and by the time the blunt is finished you get back around to what Harry was going to ask before he was interrupted. “How about I take you inside,” He says as he lightly traces a piece of hair behind your ear, “And find an empty room,” He leans in and presses his lips to the base of your throat. You put your hands on the back of his neck, holding yourself against him. “An empty room with a lock,” He adds before he kisses your neck once again. You cock your head back, giving him more room to explore. “And fuck your pretty pussy absolutely senseless, yeah?” He says with a gruff tone, finishing his run on sentence staring directly into your eyes. 

Your mouth has gone dry, and while it may be cotton mouth from the weed, you know that it’s really from the effects he has on you. “I think we could make that work.” You whisper back, slipping off Harry’s lap and grabbing his hand as he stands. 

You don’t even bother saying anything to the other guys at the table as Harry walks past you and leads you back inside. The pounding from the speakers turns into ear blisteringly loud music as you enter back into the room. 

Harry moves his hand to your waist, encapsulating you as he leads you to the stairs on the far wall. You feel your heart rate pick up and your breathing speed as you get closer to the array of bedroom doors. 

Your boyfriend’s grip on your waist stays sturdy as he walks to the closest door, spinning you and pining you against it, not even making it through the closed door. Luckily the hallway is empty and mostly quiet, apart from the music, so you aren’t worried about being caught. His breath cascades down your face and his added height on you has you looking up at him through your lashes. 

While you still have the confidence, you push against his chest and flip yourselves around, pining him against the door this time. He smirks, finding your small bravery cute. “Don’t get used to that, doll.” He says lowly into your ear. 

You move your hand to the door knob and twist it open, keeping your eyes on Harry’s, but as the door swings open you hear a high pitched giggle and a man’s voice shouting ‘occupied!’ but it’s too late, cause you’ve already seen the fit couple doogy-styling it up on the bare mattress. 

Harry snaps his head around to look into the room as you stand with wide eyes and a shocked expression, frozen in embarrassment. Once Harry has the slightest glance at what you’re staring at, he whips his head right back around and places his palm over your eyes. You quickly do the same, trying to cover his eyes while not seeing anything and as you get your hand in position, Harry’s body is pushing you forward and slamming the door shut behind him. 

You stand in silence, still covering each other’s eyes as you start to giggle. And the giggle turns into you both full on heaving up laughs while blinding each other outside the door. 

If anyone walked by right now, surely they’d think you two were insane, but neither of you can control your chuckles as you take in what just happened.

“Y/N,” Harry says as your laughs start to subside. “I’m going to remove my hand now, and I want to never speak about what we just saw.” 

You laugh and nod behind his palm. “Agreed.” You say and at that, you both lower your hands to see each other again, which only makes your own giggles release again. 

“I believe we were in the middle of something before our intrusion.” He says as he snakes one of his hands to your waist and you place on of his hands on his chest, stepping slightly closer.

“Now were we?” You play dumb with a coy smile. “You might have to refresh my memory.” You tease and he starts backwards walking to another closed door. 

This time he knocks and you wait in silence for any sign of human life on the other side, your ears pressed very close to the door. After a second more of silence, Harry slowly creaks open the door, peaking in and once confirming that you’re alone, yanking your arm in the door and shutting it behind you, being very sure to lock it. 

Harry’s lips crash against yours and his hands come up to your sides, pulling off the fabric of your top, taking your bra with it, and smoothly yanking his off by the back collar. You fiddle with his pants zipper as he moves his mouth to your neck and starts biting at your collar bone Your breathing increases as you slip your hand into his unbuttoned waist band, rubbing your hand over his cock and squeezing gently. He groans into your mouth before grabbing you by your hips and quite literally throwing you onto the bed like a rag doll. 

He discards his pants as he walks over to you, hovering naked over your clothed center. He kissed between your breasts, and then attacks each nipple while undoing the button on your jeans, a small whine coming from your throat as your hand tangles in his head of hair. He releases your pebbled nipple and kisses your stomach once before ripping your jeans and underwear off your legs and onto the floor.

He waists no time grabbing the backs of your thighs and pressing them against your body, devouring your pussy with no warning. You moan harshly into the air, fisting his curls as he stares up at you through his dark eye lashes. “Harry!” You squeak into the air as he nibbles on your clit before adding a finger to the mix, completely mutilating you within seconds. 

“Harry, fuck.” You moan into the air, squeezing your eyes shut as you already feel a fast approaching orgasm surfacing. You weren’t used to this quick of a pace, but your body adjusts fairly quickly. “Har- Harry if you k-keep that up I’m gonna-”

He abruptly stops his mouth and pulls back from your center, his chin shiny with your arousal. “Don’t cum til I say so, pet. I mean it.” He says with deep conviction in his voice despite the cute name, 

Harry then grabs your hips and rolls you over so that your ass is to him. He yanks on your hips and props them up so that his hips are lined up with yours. Without warning, he’s pushing into you from behind, sinking all the way in, erupting a moan from both of your chests. “Shit, Y/N”

He remains still for a moment, letting you adjust before he’s slowly pulling out and pushing right back in and bottoming out inside you. He gradually picks up the pace until he’s rocking into you with aggression. His hand slides up your back and latches into your hair, pulling your body back to be flush with his chest. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” He growls in your ear as his hips pivot up into you, the new angle reaching a whole new spot inside you. 

“Yours.” You pant out, breathless from the mind-blowing pace he’s managing to keep up. “My pussy’s yours, Harry.” 

“Good.” He rasps as he drops you back down onto the bed and pulling out. 

As you lay still for a second trying to catch your breath, Harry comes and lays right next to you. You twist your brows in confusion, but your questions are answered when he slips his hand under your stomach on top of the mattress and rolls you onto his chest. 

He wraps one arm around your shoulders, keeping the top half of your body locked against his, and he uses the other hand to guide his cock back into you. He props his feet up on the bed for leverage and starts thrusting up into your hips, the sound of your skin slapping together filling the room. Your thighs are hooked onto the outside of his, making you so wide and open for him. 

“Oh, God. Oh my God, Harry.” You whine, resting your head back in the crook of his neck as he wraps one of his arms around your stomach. 

Since the side of your head is pressed so close to his face, his moans and grunts filter straight into your ear, sending tingles down your spine. 

“Being such a good girl fo’ me.” Harry says breathlessly into your ear. “Takin’ my cock so well.” His accent getting thicker as he speaks lowly.

“Feels so good, H.” You whine, turning your face into his neck and sucking on a spot above his throat. “So fucking good.”

He slides his hand up from your stomach to your mouth, sticking two fingers on your tongue and you involuntarily suck on them, lathering them in saliva. 

“Does my little slut wanna cum now?” He asks, slipping his hand from your shoulders to your throat and squeezing at the sides. You nod incessantly in response with his fingers still tangled in his mouth. “Beg.” He taunts you as he drags his coated fingers down your stomach, to your heat, and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. 

You moan loudly in response. “Please, please Harry. Please let me cum baby.” You beg, itching for your release. You’re practically whining as you beg, your toes curling and thighs startling to tremble. 

“Go on, cum for me darling.” He allows as he continues his assault on your clit, his thrusts getting sharper as he nears his end too.

You finally allow yourself to reach the peak you’d been chasing, your orgasm ripping through your insides. You thighs shake and you grab the sheets with one hand and death grip Harry’s curls behind you with the other hand. Your eyes feel like they’re rolling into the back of your head and the moans of Harry coming with you only spur on the moment. Your back arches as much as possible while still in his hold, and your mouth gapes open. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck, Y/N.” Harry’s grip on your throat absentmindedly tightens and he’s tilting his forehead into the side of your head as his heavy breaths warm your cheek. “Holy shit.”

Harry continues to play with your sensitive nerves as he slows his hip movements to a stop and you both relax your muscles, staggeringly attempting to catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls out from beneath you and you flinch from sensitivity. He scoots over slightly so that he can get out from under you. He’s still panting as he grabs his boxers from the floor, raising them to your heat and wiping at it softly in attempt to clean you up. 

You smile at him, your boyfriend always putting you first, even if it means he has cum stained boxers. 

Once the majority of the mess is cleaned up he plops right back down on the bed next to you, both of you turning to face the other with a small smile. 

“You’re my everything.” He tells you and leans forward, connecting his lips with yours as you both smile at each other. 

a/n; yuh hoped you like it. didn’t know how to end it and i didn’t want it to be some ‘i love you’ bullshit so heres a cringier off brand line to end it. lmk what you think, love you all!

#harrystyles #harry styles x reader #weed #one direction #1d #harrystyles one shot #harrystylessmut

[chatsu]

hi hello hi chelsea !

if you’d like to, wanna ship your moots?

ah okay i'm not prepared & cannot think on the spot

i use the word ' think ' a lot because this is just my opinion and observations so feel free to correct me

++ no particular order, i just went through my follower list and looked for that bright green symbol <3

@maipxilia & iwaizumi — ur recent fic may have been an influence but i honestly think yous would be so cute ahh ! ur v v sweet and always thinking about others, and you share similarities, both supportive, intelligent & well respected (iwaizumi by his underclassmen and u, by me ofc). while iwaizumi is reliable he is also stubborn — who can he depend on ? you !

@missmorosis & bokuto — UR DYNAMIC I'MJSNDNDFJKS ur so comfortable to talk with i remember being ur '<33' anon and that was the first time i ever interacted like ever and u were so welcoming :') bokuto would find that admirable and while he is energetic and playful, when you're around he'd try his hardest to impress you with his wits, and shift to more of a shy demeanour. but since u share many similarities he just becomes his usual, bubbly, loving self. much like u ! idk if he likes rain, but he'd gladly spend his time dancing with u in the rain, even if it's lashing. happy birthday loveee <33

@ellewords & oikawa — i've said this so much but, oblivious idiots to lovers ? need i explain. at first he doesn't understand why there's a pang in his chest when you "reject" his advances, but in all honesty, you'd just grown used to his flirtatious nature and brushed it off, even though you also probably felt something in your chest. butterflies, perhaps. it's only when he labels the photo booth pictures you've taken with terms of endearment, he realises.

@monitsou & kageyama — maybe it's cause ur having a kageyama brainrot but tbh yous would match. he would admire ur kindness but it's when he finds himself laughing with u that he finds comfort and realises lol. i can imagine u as their manager and because u give great advice you would offer him a word or two about his bluntness, but to no avail, cause it's his frank words that confess his feelings for u <3

@xybi & yachi — yes she is intimidated by literally everyone, and she would be intimidated by you but only cause ur v pretty and a single tear would probably shed down her cheeks because of this. she'd become very flustered in your presence and blurt out a handful of compliments — your piano playing, volleyball skills, and most definitely dresses you've sewn, and gift you a dress back. anyways, you both are too cute.

@kohi-zeri & saiki — the disastrous life of saiki k was the first ever anime i had watched, and i loved it sm and when i found out u liked it too ? i knew then and there, i had exquisite taste. i think he'd befriend you, assuming you have similar characteristics, and that he'd rather be friends with u than nendou and kaidou, and to steer clear from teruhashi. but he'd find himself chuckling to your jokes. yes, kusuo saiki, laughing ?? being stubborn and prideful, he would not admit it, but was forced to when you had caught him sabotaging others who had gotten a bit too close LMFAOO. ALSO I JUST SAW UR CARRD AND IT IS SO COOL

@astroqphillic & nishinoya — k i love noya so much he is my number 1, but yous are just too good together omg <33 as expected, he'd fall shy under your gaze but when he found out ur also a libero ?? he is back to his boisterous self. until u compliment him on his receives. whoops, he's gone again. all the flirting n cuddling gets bundled into a box labeled "just friends" because yous are oblivious. until he comes up behind you to give you a back hug. but you. turn around. and lips have met. "just friends" my ass. SOULMATES UR HONOUR.

@mysterystarz & akaashi — i mean, we all saw this coming. who else could it be ? although i was late to ur wedding, i was still able to witness the amount of love akaashi holds for you, and vice versa. it's in his eyes, his playlist when he's handed the aux, and the marks on his hand ?? oh yeah, ink smudges. from writing poems for you with utmost affection. keinova 4 life <3

@rintarhue & sugawara — YOU ARE SO FUN AND LOVING AND EASY TO TALK TO, I LOVE THAT AND I LOVE YOU !! and yk who else would ? sugawara koushi. ah yes, with his soothing yet cheeky personality you both would be perfect, i think. mischievous is the word i'd use to describe your relationship. maybe he'd have you visit his class and you'd become the childrens' favourite ! what a perfect match. jk u match with me, even tumblr said so

63.543 notes ? we clearly have some shippers bae

@shirari & shirabu — okay we haven't interacted much but you seem so kind !! and ur theme is so cute ahsbdh shirabu would probably fall in love with the playlist u made him <33 despite the amount of studying he has to do (medical field things </3) he would definitely spare time for you two <3

@tesoromia & ushijima — u seem so very sweet and i think ushijima would admire that, from afar atleast, being the stoic person he is. but something about the way you dance, fully immersed with the movements and flowing with the music, he can't help but compliment you. expect a lot of compliments, due to his blunt nature.

@planetoru & oikawa — you made him ugly laugh and he contemplated life for a bit. i sense an enemies to lovers typa beat. he started asking all of life's unanswered questions, as well as accusing you of poisoning his coffee cause he felt a funny feeling in his stomach. then he realised you made him laugh cause ur funny, gorgeous, sweet, perfect and he loves you. then i knock him out cause i'm literally going out with u <3 and gojo too even though he could kill me on the spot !

@tooru-luvs & tsukishima — hii i read through a few of your posts to get to know you a bit and i think he would love u ahh <33 u seem very kind but also very determined to get tasks done and he'd admire that ! also sarcasm ? he would definitely love that.

@shoyotime & akaashi — ahh u seem so nice but chaotic and fun at the same time ?? you'd think akaashi would be used to it due to bokuto's enthusiastic personality, but while he seems calm and composed with him, i feel like he'd become flustered whenever you're around ?? he'd definitely go to bokuto for some advice and to accompany him as his wingman when he wants to talk to you HAHBSBD

@kozuelle & kiyoko — k i know u love kenma but kiyoko would be madly in love with u. again, she is one to admire from afar and maybe shower you with compliments once in a while if she's feeling courageous. other times, i feel like she would be big into giving u gifts, or perform acts of service. maybe she'd show up to watch you play the violin, or do ballet and admire your notes ! or perhaps, a heartfelt card showcasing her true feelings for you that she's been harbouring. boom, confession.

@animated-moon & tendou — soulmates yes. he would make custom chocolates for you to help with studies ! unique molds, unique tastes, all curated for you. all the childhood memories really did come in handy along with the several dates you've been on. multiple chocolates placed in a ferris wheel themed box, symbolising your tradition to go on it every year.

@mnzu & kenma — aa u seem so funny and kind !! he is introverted yes, but he has definitely analysed your whole personality while trying to find out more about you. he has vine references memorised with the hope that you will laugh along with him. if you look over his shoulder and into his switch, he's naming his animal crossing island after you. LMFAOO

@elitparadox & kita — U ARE SO SWEET AND KITA WOULD LOVE U !! and he is not afraid to show it. similar to atsumu when he had a cold, he would send baskets full of love for u ! ur fave snacks, fluffy socks, a heartfelt letter. except, he would send this every week, even if you are not sick. a different one yes, but wow you're gonna have so much baskets HAHSBD. you'd been expecting another basket upon hearing a knock at the door, but instead received a confession ! what a lovely exchange <33

@atsuvu & sakusa — no doubt about it, he'd fall in love with your music taste. HAHD IT'S SO GOOD THOUGH. you seem very chill, and he'd admire that, but you're also sweet and funny which he admires too. much to atsumu's dismay when he tells sakusa that he's also extremely funny. also mitski wahh i love her !!

@mattsunbae & tanaka — he'd fall in love with you immediately. best friend's brother typa beat ygm ?? i feel like you and saeko would be best friends for sure, and tanaka would see u, and boom. love at first sight. yeah he'd definitely shower you in compliments every second and knock every male within a 30cm radius. one night you'd be at saeko's house until her window fucking broke ?? you take a glance outside and witness tanaka ryuunosuke. attempting to lift a massive boombox over his shoulder whilst panting heavily, because he had to run back to his house, having initially thought that you were at your own house. boyfriend by big time rush is playing.

@tohman & atsumu — YOU SEEM SO FUNNY AND YOU AND ATSUMU WOULD BE SO PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER !! he'd probably see those men on your phone screen and start bawling with jealousy until you explain that it's from an otome game LMFAOOAOAONDS

@liv-laugh-die & kuroo — u seem very chill but also very sweet and kind !! he'd flirt with u non stop !!! agh i feel like you would be so very cute together, but if you compliment him back,,, whew he'd get so flustered <33

@strawbearisamu & lev — quality time and words of affirmation are his forte ! k while you'd eat spicy ramen, he would definitely attempt !! but once you see tears brimming at the corner of his eye, you have to hold him back from his bowl while he denies that he was ever in pain LMFAO <33 don't be afraid to tell him about your ideas, because he will encourage you and be so supportive ! you can pursue anything <3

@shinalie & bokuto — you seem so kind ahhh and bokuto would fall in love with you at first glance ! he'd compliment everything, from your writing, to your music taste ! everything <33

@moonless-abyss & daishou — yes he is competitive, yes he would fight for your attention. if he ever finds out that kuroo had taken an interest in you ? prepare for war <33

@srkuv & yamaguchi — i feel like he'd bump into you and be so embarrassed bshbhf but you'd reassure him and just like that, he's fallen in love. with your kindness and humour, how could he not ? feel bad for tsukishima though, as he receives a chain full of texts from yamaguchi about none other than you <3

@tetsvhoe / @rantess & kuroo — i think you'd probably report a social media account that was claiming to be you, but in reality it was a fanpage by kuroo. tbh you should've guessed based on the multiple hearts in the pictures and captions, but no regrets as you see a look of panic on kuroo tetsurou's smug, now frightened, face. he'd gift you a kitten as an apology <3

@sakuctsu & osamu — ahh i know we've just interacted recently but you seem very welcoming and so very kind ! he'd listen to your playlist and compliment each song on it. although, your yoga sessions accompanied by rain might be interrupted once you hear the clanging of his pans and ingredients in the kitchen </3 but not to worry, it's a meal just for you ! and he'd add it to his menu <33

#plays + #THIS TOOK ME TOO LONG #i tried to include everyone so #pls tell me if i forgot anyone ! #not proofread

[ratsoh-writes]

Yay match ups!

I am and introvert! I do enjoy people but too much interaction makes me shut down-and big crowds make me anxious as heck (.-. I even have a hard time with Walmart) so I usually avoid them. I like small intimate gatherings with people I know or at least have some shared interest. But I especially love quality time with and S/O and of course my alone time to recharge. As far as personality goes: think of me as a house cat. I love being with, around, and interacting with the people I love, but when I need my time I go off and hide to recharge. Most of the time I’m chill and friendly, but I do have random moments of sporadic energy and silliness will ensue. And yes if I’m annoyed or mad at you I do get snippy and may not talk to you for a bit.

My hobbies include: collecting (I consider myself a curator), cooking/baking (I like to cook for loved ones and friends and to experiment with new flavors), reading (I have a huge personal library), writing (I have shelves filled with idea and story notebooks), singing, dancing, and bit of this and that and everything else :)

It takes a lot to get to me but there are a few things that get under my skin: not letting me help/take care of you: basically an S/O who insists on doing everything on their own and taking care of me. If I care about you, at least let me cook for you, massage you, listen to you rant about a bad day or stupid people, comfort you.

I also have a hard time being interrupted/spoken over/ not listened to/disregarded. Please just let me finish what I’m saying and THEN argue your point!

Deal breakers would be: trying to be physical/sexual too early in the relationship. I’m very slow to physical touch and I have had a past of bad experiences to put it modestly. If and when I trust you enough to touch you, I will initiate it (of course I’ll ask if it’s ok). Also, them not wanting/wanting me to spend time with my family. My family is my everything! If you become mine, you are absorbed into my family and that’s how it goes. (Ps: trust me you’ll love my mom ;) )

I’ve always been attracted to passionate, smart/clever men. When I say passionate, I mean they have a love for what they do; be it a hobby or a side job or their main job. I also like a man that has dreams and goals but just continue to dream about them. He works hard and goes after that dream and makes it happen. And yes I love them sharp! Book smarts are impressive, street smarts are amazing, but a man with both is phenomenal! I also love a man who takes pride in his appearance and how he presents himself. What can I say? I like them sharp in dress and in mind!

My strengths: I love helping/teaching people in all areas of life (I’m a teacher it’s my thing!). I am loyal to a fault (you hurt my friends or family, I will find a way to hurt you ._.), I am (mostly) optimistic, I am very open and willing to accept almost anything if you explain it to me.

My weaknesses: I overthink EVERYTHING! I have a tendency to shut down and shut people out when I’m mad/sad/scared instead of talking things out or even defending myself (I’m getting much better). I either care or I don’t-there is no in between! Everyday I deal with and combat differing amounts of anxiety and depression on a day to day basis. Most days I win, Some days I don’t. I don’t know if it’s a weakness but, I have a specific diet that I eat because of health and allergies but I don’t like to impose it on anyone.

Physical description: 5’9 on my flat feet, 5’10 in my regular shoes and 5’11-6ft in heels. Just above shoulder length Dirty blonde hair with light blonde highlights.Blue/grey eyes that reflect color. Glasses are a must for me to see. I have a chubby/average build. Best attribute: legs for days and thighs that don’t quit! Oh and apparently a smile that lights up a room (with a dimple).

Ok, so it was a tie between two guys. And the winner of the coin toss was……. SANS!

Congratulations! You won the tumblr sexy man!!

Fun fact, sans is the most extroverted introvert you’ll ever meet. He’s always been good at charming people but in reality he’d be perfectly happy with just a handful of family and close friends. Nothing else. So he understands perfectly how you feel. Plus sans is the definition of no pressure when it comes to relationships. He’s fine taking things slow

He’s also humble enough to let you take care of him occasionally. That bit you put in actually knocked a lot of guys out. I had no idea how many of my boys were prideful mother hens until now lol. Just let him return the favor though. His love language is acts of service, so sans will want to do little things for you as well

So I heard you like brainy guys? Well sans is very brainy. In fact he’s a genius. He’s only bested by Pluto and G, and it’s a close competition. Not very many people are willing to listen to him geek out about science, so if you do, you’ll get to see him go starry eyed.

Here’s a secret, sans will totally be a goof and dance around in the kitchen with you. But no one must ever know. If papyrus finds out, he’ll try and drag sans into exercising with him again lol

The only thing sans doesn’t fit is the presentation lol. He’s a casual guy all the way and does the bare minimum when it comes to dressing up for work. He won’t care if you mess around with his closet as long as the clothes are comfortable

Green was the other guy tied with sans

#undertale #matchups

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-15: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Come on then, Miss Direction Blind. I'll be the one to give you the directions now.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

After a week of working at Warson, I’d technically adapted to how things went about here. Zheng Lin had also arranged my first solo gig.

Zheng Lin: The design hub has a mentor system set in place.

Zheng Lin: So, all Assistants and Junior Designers will have a mentor assigned to them.

Zheng Lin: Of course, it is not up to you to choose, but your future mentor.

Zheng Lin: Every Senior Designer, including Director Qi, will participate in this program as a mentor.

MC: Director Qi too?

Zheng Lin: Correct. The selection criteria will be the results of your first independent work.

Zheng Lin: It might be solo work, but you can always approach me if you run into something you don't understand.

Zheng Lin: And also, I'll get Brother Mao to help you out, considering how you've only just arrived here and have yet to familiarize yourself with this place.

Zheng Lin: Of course, his aid doesn't include helping you out with your design.

Zheng Lin: In any case, just make sure to do this job well because the results of this will determine who your future mentor will be. Understand?

I understood what she was getting at. Mentors would greatly influence and affect the growth of a rookie. One will be able to learn much more when paired with an experienced mentor who shares the same aesthetic sense.

Although the deadline is still a long time from now, I want to become the best mentee choice to ever face Sariel.

The job this time was to create a dress for Lin Yao, the new up and coming actress, for her award ceremony.

❖☆———————————★❖

She was a child actress who'd recently risen to fame when the popularity of the young idol teen drama she starred in half a year ago exploded. Due to her cold countenance, she was dubbed by the media as the "Nation's Fairy Nymph" 

This time, the local crime movie she'd starred as the lead for had received a double harvest at the word-of-mouth box office. It has also been nominated as one of the most popular movies and the movie with the best female lead among many others.

This movie was about a talented dancing genius who secretly plotted the murder of her abusive stepmother for many, many years. This caused the creation of a second personality within her; the murder happened then. At the end of the film, she danced in the pure white snow beside the dead body of her stepmother. Something that she'd only ever dreamt about. And there, etched upon her face, was the first smile of her life.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Her performance is way too good! I can't even tell that it's an act...

After watching some of her award-winning works interviews, I finally managed to get some semblance of understanding about Lin Yao.

She was someone of few words, a polite and obedient kid who never once had a single bad article to her name. She was forever smiling in front of the cameras. She was hardworking and responsible when it came to her work, and has had a smooth journey ever since her debut. It was the very epitome of what a perfect life was; one that everybody admired.

MC: A traditional fairy dress would be too conservative. Although that'd be very in line with her image, it'll merely be the same thing all over again. That wouldn't make her stand out on the red carpet.

MC: I can't help but feel like she's not all as inwardly peaceful as she appears on the outside. Perhaps she's fiercer or more sensitive deep down...

I didn't know how I could express this mismatch in her persona.

Perhaps it was those eyes of hatred of hers that shot daggers in the movie, or maybe that one sliver of vulnerability that she let slip in her interviews every once in a while. Those factors made it hard for me to decide just what kind of style I should go with her dress.

MC: And I also feel like digging deeper to uncover the other more charming side of her that no one knows...

The genius young maiden of the nation. A turbulent era of change. Self-redemption and self-destruction. All of these factors were only impactful when combined together with the era it was set in. It was only then, that everything felt fated to be.

MC: What if I added these elements to the dress?

I closed my eyes and imagined it in my head. A black feather dress inspired by the nation slowly formed in my mind's eye.

MC: I know!

Brother Mao: Heavens! You gave me a scare right there!

That was when I realized that I'd quite literally leapt out of my seat in my excitement. I gave an embarrassed laugh.

MC: Brother Mao, I'm going to go out and do some fieldwork to get some inspiration!

❖☆———————————★❖

If I were to find things related to the nation, then the museum would be the most appropriate choice.

Back when I was little, I'd always be left in the care of my mother's ex-partner when neither she nor my grandmother had the time to take care of me. He was responsible for managing this museum that could be called my second home of sorts.

MC: But, why does it look different from how I remember…?

The place had been renovated during the long period of time I hadn't been to it. All the exhibition halls had changed locations.

I followed the signs towards the hall where all the local things were displayed, only for my attention to be caught by a familiar figure.

Dressed entirely in black, said person had his arm behind his back as he stood motionless in front of the collections before him.

His straight posture made him look like a tall, yet silent, statue from afar. Under the lights of the spotlight, a faint silvery-white halo surrounded him. I could even see the small particles of dust floating in the air amidst the light. It made him look stand-offish and sharp.

I couldn't stop myself from raising my camera and snapping a shot. 

Click! 

The man noticed; immediately whipping his head around.

MC: ...Osborn!?

Surprised, I retreated a step; only to realize that my hands were now empty. Osborn had snatched my camera from me.

Osborn: Watcha hiding?

He cocked his head to look at the camera, the corners of his mouth upturning into an arc.

Osborn: You're sneakily taking shots of me? Let's see how they turned out.

MC: Return it back to me first!

Osborn purposely lifted the camera higher out of my reach.

Osborn: Why are you so frantic? It's not like I mind or anything.

MC: I still have things to do! Hurry and give it back already!

Osborn: What did you come here for?

MC: Photos. I came here looking for inspiration.

Osborn nodded, turning and walking away with my camera in hand.

Osborn: Weren't you here for pictures? Come on, let's go.

Does he want to accompany me?

I hurriedly chased after him and held out the guidebook for him to take. However, he'd only waved his hand in dismissal and signalled for me to follow behind him.

He led me around the museum as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. All I had to do was to name the exhibit and he'd be able to find it immediately.

His sense of direction is incredible. What is he? A human-sized GPS?

MC: Do you come here often, Osborn?

Osborn: It's my first time here.

MC: …..

Osborn let out two short laughs as he crooked his head and contemplated me.

Osborn: And how many times have you been here?

MC: I've come here a couple of times in the past, I guess. I'm not very familiar with this place. Ahem...

??: (Y/n)! Is it really you? You've come back to the country?

The curator uncle that I'd not seen in a long time suddenly comes round from a corner. He looked astonished to see me here.

Mr. Curator: You've grown into a splendid young woman in the years I've not seen you. It's great to see you back! Come by my place for dinner when you're free!

Mr. Curator: Oh, yes. Should I get you a guide? I remember that you got lost here once.

MC: No need! My friend here has a superb sense of direction!

My face heated up as I hurriedly pointed to Osborn. He didn't say anything more, only laughing as he nodded to Osborn before leaving.

Brilliant. I originally intended to keep the fact that I was directionally challenged under wraps when around Osborn, but now… He's gonna make fun of me again.

MC: Right, but I'm still pretty good at reading maps…

In the end, Osborn couldn't hold back his laughter and ended up laughing till his shoulders were shaking. He took hold of my arm in one swift motion and started walking forward.

Osborn: Come on then, Miss Direction Blind.

Osborn: I'll be the one to give you the directions now.

Somehow, I vaguely felt my heart skip a beat at that.

MC: I want to go to the national exhibit…

❖☆———————————★❖

The national exhibit had now been renovated and refurbished retro-style. All the new collections exhibited here now turned out to be clothing and accessories. 

Looks like I made the right choice in coming here.

Osborn: Want do you wanna snap?

MC: That one. The brown layered cheongsam patterned through burn-out printing.

MC: The blueish-grey female damask lined jacket!

MC: And that short-sleeved georgette velvet cheongsam that's also patterned through burn-out printing!

I'd virtually snapped a picture of every outfit on display here. The tentative image I originally had in mind seemed to become clearer now.

MC: Okay, that's all.

Osborn kept the camera and glanced at the time.

Osborn: Let's go then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Dusk had already fallen by the time we walked out of the museum. The smell of sundown envelopes us in its serenity, as the breeze carries the fragrance of hyacinths.

Osborn walks up to a black motorcycle and leans on its back seat.

MC: Thank you for today. I didn’t cause you any trouble by hogging you and making you take pictures for me, did I?

Osborn: Sure you did.

MC: …Ah. What are you going to do about it?

Osborn: Then, how about you do a little something to repay me? The bracelet I was looking at earlier; have you seen anything like it before?

The image of Osborn staring seriously at the white-coloured jade cong earlier flashed through my mind.

MC: That’s not a bracelet. It’s a jade cong. They’re used as ritual artefacts in ancient witchcraft or religious sacrifices.

MC: The one you saw earlier was a typical one belonging to the Liangzhu Culture. It’s speculated that it’s used to communicate with gods or the souls trapped in this realm.

Osborn: You know quite a lot.

MC: I used to come here a lot as a kid, and I’d just tail the big sister, the guide, back then when I had nothing better to do. That’s why I remember so many things.

Osborn: Hu? You don't look like an expert at all.

MC: I’m still learning, but they do say that the better your memory, the smoother the sail of your learning curve.

Osborn: Let’s see… Wasn’t there an expert earlier who couldn’t even tell left from right?

MC: I was born with a poor sense of direction! I told you that my map reading skills were still passable!

Osborn: Okay, okay. What’s with the glare? I’m only poking fun at you.

Osborn: My sense of direction is brilliant, so just follow me next time.

MC: ……

MC: Right, but that jade cong earlier was a little odd.

Osborn: Man, the way you change topics needs a little working on.

MC: Do you want to listen, or not?

Osborn: Spill.

MC: I’ve never seen a jade cong from the Liangzhu Culture with the double-headed snake motif carved onto it before.

MC: There exists a sacred double-headed snake motif in Sumerian Culture. It represents Ningishzida, the Lord of the Good Woods.

MC: And in the mythology Ningishzida hails from, the gods used clay to create humans and make the beginnings of the first civilization.

MC: Just like the Fuxi Nuwa from our ancient mythology.

MC: Funny thing is that, coincidentally, the Sumernarian two-headed snake is also very similar to the Fuxi Nuwa.

Osborn unknowingly furrows his brow whilst muttering about something under his breath. However, he quickly returns to his usual playful self.

Osborn: Okay. I've got it.

MC: Why are you interested in something like this?

MC: I remember that the bracelet you showed me up on the roof that day had the same motif.

Osborn: Ever heard of this saying?

Osborn made a come hither motion, signalling for me to get closer to him.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more you'll be...

He did a cutthroat gesture whilst smirking at me.

MC: Do I look like I care?

Osborn: It has something to do with someone I'm looking for. I'll tell you next time if I get the chance.

MC: Hmm…

Osborn: But, no telling anyone about what happened today.

MC: Okay. Now gimme the camera.

Osborn: I helped you and yet not even a single "thank you" from you?

Osborn leaned further backwards, purposefully dodging my hand that went straight for the camera, a devilish look on his face.

MC: Thank you!

Osborn: Now stick your hand out.

A small lemon candy was placed into my outstretched palm alongside the camera.

Osborn: Where are you headed? I'll send you.

He flipped himself onto his bike, surveying the congested road up ahead.

MC: I can't possibly bother you like that...

I waved my hand and turned his offer down out of habit, yet inwardly, I was silently pondering about just how I was to get onto that tall bike of his.

However, just as I was about to step onto it and swing myself onto the seat, the engine gave a resounding roar as said motorbike speeded away from me.

Only a single line hung in the air in his wake: "Bye!"

MC: Hey! I was just being nice! It wouldn't hurt to have asked me again...

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-13) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-18)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

[pastrnaks-sainz]

Barbie Girl

Pairing: David Pastrnak x female!reader 

Type: Fluff 

Warnings: Swearing, let's pretend covid isn’t a thing 

Word Count: 1006

Summary: After a 7-3 thrashing of the Flyers, the Boston locker room is sure to be amped up. As a part of the training staff, and David Pastrnak’s girlfriend, it is your sole responsibility to get the playlist going as the players come in from the ice. And what better way to continue the 90s theme than with the ultimate 90s songs. 

A/N: pasta’s post game interview put this image in my head. you're welcome 

~~~~

The outfits were Bergy’s idea. To say the team and staff was shocked when it came out of his mouth would be an understatement. You would have expected it to be Brad’s brainchild, definitely not the captain. You couldn’t complain, though. The Boston Bruins arrived in style and there was no arguing that. 

The look on Bruce’s face was enough to make your entire year. You had never seen him laugh that hard, not even when you and David showed up in a couples costume to the team Halloween party. 

If there was one thing you knew for sure about the Boston Bruins, it was that they didn’t do anything half-assed. Whether on the ice or off, they always saw what they started through. 

“There’s ice at the bottom of the stairs,” Jeff, one of your fellow trainers pointed out as you got ready to head back to the locker room as the game approached its final seconds. “Be careful, I don’t want you to end with Lauzy.” 

“I’ll be fine but thanks for your concern,” you smirked and slipped away, going unnoticed by the players on the bench. 

The locker room was quiet when you walked in. For once. You stepped over discarded pieces of clothing on the floor on your way to the stereo system set up in the corner. 

David and Charlie McAvoy had been so excited for the 90s theme that they curated an entire playlist filled to the brim with 90s hits the night before the game. You plugged the aux cord into your phone and waited. You would know when they were coming back from the sound alone. 

Sure enough, just ten minutes later, you heard the telltale sign of a hockey team coming back to the locker room after a blowout win. Smirking to yourself, you hit shuffle and cranked up the volume. 

“Can’t touch this!” David yelled to the beat of the song as he ran into the locker room. You laughed wholeheartedly at his excitement. 

His cheeks were pink as he ran up to you and scooped you up in his arms, swinging you around. Your laughter was drowned out by the team’s shouts of excitement. 

“Okay, put me down you smell,” you laughed, tapping David’s shoulder. He didn’t stop smiling even as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. 

“I don’t smell that bad,” he retorted before walking over to his locker. You shook your head as he disappeared behind it only to come back with the pink rimmed sunglasses he’d been wearing during warmups perched on his nose. You laughed loud enough to attract the attention of Chucky and Freddy. 

“Pull your skates off and then act like an idiot,” you told him. For once, David did what he was told. 

Can’t Touch This ended, and a baited quiet settled over the team as they pulled off various bits of equipment and waited for the next song. 

‘Hiya Barbie’ 

Within seconds half the locker room had divided themselves into parts. Pasta stood in the middle of the locker room and pulled out the dance move you had only seen him use at parties hours after drinks had started flowing. 

Freddy grabbed your hand and pulled you into the middle of the locker room. He shoved you into Pasta with a wide grin. He didn’t miss a beat and grabbed your hands, moving to the beat of the song. You threw caution to the wind and joined him, letting him guide you. 

“Pasta!” someone shouted over the music. “NBC wants you for postgame!” 

“Fucking hell,” David muttered. 

“Just get it over with and get back, babe,” you said, pecking his lips before he walked out of the locker room. 

“Did he go out there with those sunglasses on?” Bergy asked as you leaned against the makeshift table the speakers were sitting on. 

“Yes he did,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Before I get distracted by someone again, is your knee okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he brushed you off. “Can you slip out early?” 

“Yeah, nobody needs to be checked out, we’ll probably leave with you guys,” you answered. “Why?” 

“Drinks in Marchy’s room,” Bergy answered. 

“Count us in,” you nodded. 

Two hours later you were leaning against the wall beside the door to your hotel room checking your watch for the ninth time. 

“For fuck’s sake, you take longer than I do!” you yelled to David in the bathroom. 

“Perfection takes time, beruško!” he called back before emerging from the bathroom. 

“Oh my god,” you laughed heartily. “That tie is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen! You do know you don’t need to keep up the 90s theme, right?” 

“There’s no fun in that,” he smiled, gathering you in his arms and peppered your face in kisses. “Now stop distracting me, let’s go.” 

“Oh, I’m the one distracting you?” you giggled and let him pull you down the hall to Marchy’s room. He smirked at you as he knocked on the door. 

“Pasta!” Chucky exclaimed as he opened it. Your jaw dropped when you saw him in a ridiculous 90s outfit of his own. “Y/N, I’m disappointed. No outfit.” 

“Alright,” you threw your hands up in the air. “Give me ten minutes I’m going to go change.” 

You rummaged through your suitcase until you found the outfit you had packed in case this very thing happened. Once satisfied with your look, you returned to Marchy’s room. This time, he opened the door. 

“Did Pasta pressure you into that one?” he asked, a smile on his face, as he let you in. 

“This one was all me,” you responded and walked past him. 

“Y/N!” a chorus of yells went up as you walked into the small living room. 

“Where was this this afternoon?” David asked as he walked up to you. 

“Trainers weren’t a part of your little charade,” you answered, pecking his lips. 

“I wish they were now that I’ve seen this,” he murmured in your ear. 

“You, David Pastrnak, are ridiculous.”

#david pastrnak #x reader #david pastrnak x reader #nhl x reader #fluff #david pastrnak fluff #nhl fluff #one shot #david pastrnak one shot #nhl one shot #fanfiction #david pastrnak fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey fluff

[moldisgoodforyou]

you’re my home

“why do i feel like jj would just love all the domestic aspects about being with charlie. like brushing their teeth together at night or watching her fold her clothes into the space he made in his dresser for her or watching her dance around the kitchen making coffee in the morning. like i feel like he would love the sense of home&simplicity he gets from those moments with her that he never got before from anywhere or anyone else”

inspiration from this ask ^ thank you :) this is just a set of little blurbs about what jj and charlie would be like living together! 

wordcount: 2k

____

JJ wasn’t used to living with someone in such an intimate way. Sure, he had shared a dorm room with five other guys his freshman year, a sleeping dorm with way too many guys sophomore and junior year, and had the perk of a single bedroom in the frat house his senior year - but it wasn’t quite living alone. Living with John B in the summers wasn’t exactly the grown-up life he had envisioned as a kid, then after graduation, he moved into a pseudo-frat house with seven guys. The house was a constant mess and just plain chaotic, but it felt right - he didn’t think he was quite old enough to retire from the college lifestyle. 

Once he got his job out in California, he moved in with Charlie and was quickly thrown into a world of home decor (apparently a hobby of hers he had never noticed). Lucky for her, he liked being handy and was able to help build a couple shelves and such and save a little money. 

At first, they danced around each other a little. They made the abrupt switch from not seeing each other for months to living together in a matter of days, and it was an awkward exchange of being open about finances and squeezing past each other in the tiny bathroom to brush their teeth. But soon they found a groove, and JJ grew to love the pattern. 

Though he would never, ever admit it, JJ was a romantic at heart. He insisted on music during dinner (“it sets the right ambience, Charlie”) and it always depended on his mood, carefully curated for the day.  

After fumbling their way through a dinner recipe together, neither of them being skilled in the kitchen, Charlie insisted on starting on the dishes right away. “I don’t get why we have to do this instantly.” JJ complained, bumping his hip against hers. Charlie shook her head, handing him a dishtowel. “We’re trying to start a routine here. My parents always did it this way and it worked, so.” 

“At my house we just used paper plates and threw them away. Or piled up the dishes for a few weeks and then finally scraped off the food.” JJ reasoned. Charlie just shot him a skeptical look, turning on the faucet. “JJ, I say this in the nicest way possible, but maybe we shouldn’t model our lifestyle after your childhood.” He laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” 

After a few dishes, he grew bored and swatted her butt with the towel, making her yelp. “Can we finish?” She asked, giving him an exasperated smile. JJ reached over and shut off the faucet, taking her hands as Love You For A Long Time by Maggie Rogers drifted through his phone speaker. “No, c’mere. We have a dishwasher for a reason.” 

He pulled her away from the sink, roping her into a waltz with a goofy grin. “J.” Charlie protested, but let him lead her into a twirl. “Hush, pretty girl, I’m busy dancing.” He replied, pulling her close. Charlie didn’t hesitate to rest her head on his chest, swaying in a steady circle with him. This became a regular occurrence - she always objected at first, trying to finish cleaning a few more things, but then gave in to his embrace. 

_

JJ also learned there was nothing better than coming home to his person. Their work schedules varied, but most days Charlie was home first if she wasn’t working an athletics event. If he had a bad day, she could usually tell just by the way his texts were short and to the point. One time, after a botched client meeting, he came home and dropped his bag by the door, not bothering to say anything to her as she sat on the couch. 

“Hi to you too.” Charlie teased, following him into the kitchen. “Hey.” He acknowledged, grabbing a bag of chips from the pantry and pouring some onto a plate. “Long day?” She murmured, wrapping her arms around him from behind. He softened, turning so he could rest his chin on the top of her head, replicating the embrace. It was the sort of hug you could melt into, knowing you were safe in someone’s arms. “Love you.” He murmured, closing his eyes. She hugged him for a beat longer, then lifted her head to catch his lips. “Love you too, J.” 

_

JJ grew into the habit of waking up before Charlie, partly because he was incapable of sleeping in on the west coast and partly because she was so damn cute when she slept. He learned to cook the basics for her, and always made sure she had a cup of coffee and some toast with scrambled eggs at the very least. (Pancakes were reserved for special occasions.) The first time he did it, he woke up her with barely enough time to get ready and eat. She was caught off guard and tried to show her appreciation, but had to do her makeup in the car that day. After, he learned to wake her up enough in advance. 

The one time he overslept, he felt a weight on his conscience when he woke up to see Charlie already gone. She had to be at work early, but he had the day off, and they had stayed up til 3am last night after mutual agreements of ‘just one more episode.’ He woke up at 10am to a couple texts from her - snoozing in? and not gonna lie I’m hungry lol and immediately felt guilty. 

He dragged himself out of bed, tugged on clothes and shoes, and drove down to their favorite coffee shop by their apartment, then straight to the UC Berkeley campus. JJ parked out front of her office and texted her, leaning up against the car. Charlie came out five minutes later, confused. “What are you doing here, isn’t it your day off?” 

JJ held up a coffee and to-go bag with her favorite bagel flavor (that he had to practically beg the baker to make, since they were out). “You said you were hungry.” Charlie grinned, greeting him with a kiss. “You didn’t have to do this, hon, thank you.” He shrugged but filled with pride, knowing he was able to take care of his girl. 

_ 

One day in December, Charlie came home in a bad mood. She let the front door slam shut behind her and barely acknowledged JJ in the kitchen before storming off to the bedroom, flopping down onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. Frowning, JJ stopped his cooking and followed her in moments later. “What’s wrong, did I do something?” 

“No, you’re perfect.” She mumbled into the pillows. He paused before hesitantly reaching out to rub her back, unsure if she was being sarcastic. “Talk to me, pretty girl.” He was surprised to see a few tears welling up in her eyes as she lifted her head and curled into his side, resting an arm across his waist. “We got the bowl schedules today. I’ll be gone for two and a half whole weeks, including Christmas.” 

“Oh.” He murmured before falling silent. With Charlie’s job as an athletic trainer with the football team at UC Berkeley, they had known she’d have to travel for post-season, but he never considered her having to be gone for so long. “Well, I’ll just buy a ticket, and I’ll come visit you on Christmas.” 

She sniffled pathetically. “No, you have your tradition with the Pogues. You haven’t seen them in so long. And I’ll be so busy with work, I’ll hardly see you anyways.” Charlie sighed, a small pout on her lips. “My mom is gonna kill me.” 

JJ frowned and pressed a kiss to her forehead before running a thumb over her lips. “How about...I go back to the Outer Banks, but I go to your place for Christmas dinner? I’ll check in on your family and everything. And then when you’re back, we can go home again or we can have Christmas with just us. Your choice.” 

She lifted her head, biting her lower lip now to try not to cry more than she already had that day. “Really? You’d do that for me?” He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her sweetly. “Of course. I know it’s important to you.” That was enough to break the seal and a few stray tears fell down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of his neck again. “God, I love you.” He laughed softly and continued to rub her back soothingly. “Love you too, sweetheart.” 

_ 

In the days leading up to her departure, he kept stealing extra glances at her as they went through the little motions of everyday life. Sure, they had been apart for nearly six months when they did long-distance, but now that they were back to seeing each other every day again, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle being alone. (He even picked up a habit of flossing just so he had another excuse to linger around her more as she did her makeup in the mornings.) 

Before she left, he tucked little notes in the pockets of her suitcase and backpack, strategically hidden so she wouldn’t find them all at once. Once she was gone, he found himself texting her more than usual - just to check in - until she eventually had to tell him that no, she was not dead in a ditch somewhere just because she didn’t reply to his text within ten minutes. 

At first he had fun with being alone in the apartment. He could do whatever he wanted and had some guy friends over, ordering pizza and played video games with the volume all the way up, kicking their feet up on the coffee table. But after a few days, he felt guilty that the dishes piled up in the sink and his shoes were left haphazardly by the door, so he made a point to tidy up - and proudly showed Charlie how clean the apartment was over Facetime that night. 

He hated every bit of her being gone. He hated the empty side of the bed (so he slept with her pillow), he hated how quiet the apartment was, he even hated that the bathroom counter didn’t have her usual makeup and flat iron scattered across it. JJ had never been more excited to go home to the Outer Banks - not just to see the Pogues, but to see what he considered his second family too. He watched the football game at her parent’s house and had never been more excited to see her on the sidelines, even if it was only for a split second as the camera panned across. 

When Charlie finally returned to Berkeley, JJ picked her up from the airport with a bouquet of flowers and the biggest grin on his face as she dropped her bags to jump into his arms. He hardly let her go a second without touching her, keeping his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the car and his hand on her thigh the whole ride home. He didn’t realize how much he missed her like hell until they were finally together again. 

When they walked into the apartment together, he pulled her into another warm embrace, arms wrapped tightly around her and his face tucked into her hair. “My home is back.” He murmured. 

She pulled back just enough to catch his lips in a kiss, grinning. “What do you mean? You’re in your home.” 

He shook his head, grinning back. “It’s not home when you’re not in it.” 

#don't mind me just being soft #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj x charlie #mine

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Normal Love and Superheroes: Two - my city

Summary: Leena gets a meeting with the Bruce Wayne himself and a call from John Blake. 

Pairing: John Blake x OFC (Leena Duckett) 

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none I think...characters discuss Sexy Times and getting drunk but like that’s it I suppose

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

“Why the heck would he want a private tour with me? He asked for me specifically?”

“Look that’s what he said over the phone, Leena.”

“But did he say why?”

“I’m so terribly sorry I didn’t take the time to ask Bruce frickin’ Wayne, one of the biggest patrons of the gallery, why he asked for a tour from you specifically.”

Leena blushed. “Sorry, Adeline. I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.” The blonde sitting behind the welcome desk smiled with a closed mouth. “I’d react the same way if I were in your shoes. A whole hour or more with Bruce Wayne….”

Another tour guide jogged up to the front desk from the bowels of the gallery. Leena turned and watched her approach. Phoebe had a look of conspiracy and impression on her long face. She came to a halt beside Leena and elbowed her in the side.

“So are you gonna take Mr. Wayne into one of the more….Private rooms of the gallery?” Phoebe asked with a wicked smile.

Leena rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the hot feeling that was spreading from her neck into her face. It was no secret about Gotham that Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, was extremely attractive and constantly single. She saw the tabloid covers as she stood in line at the grocery store. She even ran into him outside of a restaurant one time. But his sexual promiscuity was not what bothered her about giving him a private tour. It was more the fact that he was Bruce Wayne, billionaire enigma businessman that seemed to have intimidation come out of his very pores. Who was she to be giving him a tour of the galleries that he often bought from? A no-name artist who worked two jobs, one of which she hated, to make ends meet? That didn’t sound like the kind of girl that should be giving a Wayne tours of anything.

“No I will not, Phoebe, Jesus!” Leena laughed.

“Oh, come on, have you seen him? Plus, you know he’d be open to it. He’s slept with every hot girl in Gotham and beyond.”

“Just cause he’s slept around doesn’t mean he’d be open to swapping spit in a broom closet with a random gallery tour guide.” Leena rolled her eyes. “Maybe he wants just a normal day out. Like anyone else.”

“God, you’re no fun,” Phoebe groaned.

“I think we know from after hours drinks just how fun Leena can be,” Adeline, the front desk girl, pitched in.

Leena rolled her eyes again and smirked. She always told herself, after those nights out, that she would never fall into the temptation of going again. She always got way too drunk, being a lightweight that fell very easily under peer pressure. And because she always got way too drunk, she always ended up doing something she regretted. Like dancing on top of a table, kissing some random person in the dark corner of the bar they frequented, or possibly recreating dance scenes from Chicago with very little success.

“Please stop,” Leena begged with a red face.

“Excuse me ladies.” An older gentleman with an English accent approached the front desk. He looked very nice in a dark suit with white thinning hair. “I’m here for my tour of the gallery.”

“Of course, what’s the name attached to the tour?” Adeline asked.

Phoebe squeezed Leena’s arm and wiggled her eyebrows before she trotted off, back into the gallery. And Leena was about to do the same, but —

“Bruce Wayne. I run his house and am looking for some new work to be put up. I believe I set aside a tour guide already?” the old man said.

“Oh, yes, you did.” Adeline typed on the computer for a moment, giving Leena a bit of side-eye as she did so. “You’ll be touring with Ms. Duckett.”

Leena let out a breath. A sudden wash of relief and disappointment running through her. She knew that the gallery was the place for many of Gotham’s most elite families to buy art for their various homes throughout the world. Rich folk wanting to support local artists. But she had never given a tour to any actual members of those families. It was always the butlers, the house runners, the managers, the publicists even. But they always state that it is the butler or the house runner coming to assess new pieces that have been put up. So when Bruce Wayne’s actual name was logged into the system, Leena really thought it was going to be him walking through the halls of their gallery. Really laying his eyes on the art and choosing it for himself rather than someone else choosing it for him and barely even noticing that it was hung in his manor. The disappointment didn’t last long, however.

Leena stepped towards the old man with a smile. “And I am Ms. Duckett. A pleasure to meet you…”

“Alfred, miss.” He held out his hand and she shook it.

“Well, right this way, Alfred.” She gestured for them to enter the gallery and she began to lead. “We’ll start with our glassworks suite — “

They entered the first room of the gallery. The Shefield Gallery was extensive, housing several different mediums of art from a variety of artists. Pure white walls to off balance the bright pops of color that the artwork created, heightening the customer intrigue. In this first room there were at least fourteen pedestals strewn about the room, each one holding a different piece of glass artwork. Leena liked to look at glasswork, but would probably never attempt creating any herself. Molten glass just seemed a little too dangerous for her taste.

“Actually, sorry to be a bother, but I was hoping to look at something specific on this trip.” Alfred pulled a piece of paper from his suit jacket pocket. He unfolded it and handed it to Leena. “A piece specifically requested by Master Wayne.”

Leena stopped them and took the piece of paper with raised brows. It was a print out from the gallery’s website. Her eyes widened.

That was her painting. Put up in the employee suite of the gallery after much begging and finally the curator taking pity on her for being a slightly hungry artist.

She looked back up at Alfred to see him smiling at her. She quickly regained herself and asked, “Um — are you sure it’s this one that Mr. Wayne wants?”

“Yes. That’s the one.”

With a resigned nod and a thick swallow, Leena led Alfred to the employee suite. She could feel her fingers going numb. Bruce Wayne wanted her painting? Really? He asked for it specifically? She was sure that the old man had to be lying to her for her benefit. Playing some sort of weird joke that ended with her humiliated and a playboy billionaire laughing at the footage of her misfortune. Or maybe there was no farce and the man really did like her painting so much he wanted to buy it and hang it in his home. Leena rubbed at her neck. He would be the first person to ever like her work enough to do so.

They came to the employee suite and Leena stopped them in front of the painting in question. She put her head down as Alfred looked at it. His thin lips were quirked up in a small smile but she couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

“Pick your head up, miss,” he said, “I know you painted this.”

“Is that why you asked for me for your tour?” Leena asked.

“It is indeed.” His smile widened. “Master Wayne wanted me to see what kind of person could paint something like that.”

He pointed to the canvas and Leena furrowed her brows. She turned to the painting herself. Was there some vulgar message she, the artist, had missed? No. She couldn’t see it. All she saw was a portrait of Gotham at night. Done in oil paints on a medium sized canvas, Leena had always been told she leaned too far into her impressionist influences. But she couldn’t help it. Ordinary subject matter with a heightened sense of romanticism and color was something that Leena was just drawn too. The painting was Gotham at night, looking out over the skyline with the lights from the offices and apartments shining brightly, as if the viewer were looking down from the highest story of some building or other. In the glowing rooms in the foreground, people could be seen. Families, tired office workers, friends getting together.

She had titled the painting My City.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” she said, turning back to Alfred.

“Master Wayne sees Gotham as a dark place — a place full of hate, injustice, and cruelty,” Alfred said.

Leena pulled a face. “While I will not disagree with Mr. Wayne — Gotham is full of the worst kinds of things — but it is also still worth saving. And loving. And living in if only to save it and love it more.”

Alfred smiled, a soft and knowing thing that made Leena’s eyes narrow.

“And Master Wayne would agree with that sentiment as well.” He turned to the painting again, hands clasped behind his back. “Which is why he was drawn to your work so much. You share similar views on a city that many have lost faith in — a rare find, especially in art form.”

Leena was puzzled. Bruce Wayne grew up in Gotham, just like she did. But they saw completely different sides of Gotham. Wayne saw only the elite, the rich, the famous side. The side that lived in penthouse suites, owned entire blocks of buildings, and could afford to eat at those fancy restaurants downtown. The faces of Gotham City. While Leena saw the hands and feet, the workers and the heart and soul of Gotham. The side that worked fifty hour weeks, lived in the slums, and had to cut up and burn their own furniture to keep warm. Gotham wasn’t worth saving because of the side that Bruce Wayne saw, that made it worth damnation. Gotham was worth saving because of what Leena saw.

“Um — well — uh — I…I don’t really know what to say. I wish I could tell Mr. Wayne thank you in person.”

Alfred seemed to get an idea. “How about you deliver the painting in person to Wayne Manor? Tomorrow perhaps? You could thank him in person and he would get to meet the artist behind the painting that has captivated him for so long. That is, if you are free, of course.”

“Well, if he wanted to do that he could have come himself today.” Leena couldn’t stop the words before they came out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened as she stared at Alfred. God, she really needed to learn how to control her mouth. She could feel her neck heating up and her face paling all at the same time. Her face scrunched up as she closed her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t look at him he would just go away or she would just sink into the floor. Either option would spare her from the agonizing embarrassment ripping through her right now.

“I’m so — “

Alfred chuckled. He actually started laughing. A polite and somehow very British thing that had Leena’s eyes flying open.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Ms. Duckett,” he chuckled out, “But Master Wayne has turned into a bit of a recluse as of late. And I really do think he would appreciate meeting you.”

Leena bit down hard on her lip. If it meant making the $500 the painting was priced at, she was willing to do anything honestly. Even it meant borrowing Jamie’s car and meeting the actual Bruce fricking Wayne himself. That was enough money to pay her half of the rent for the month and she only had to do one thing. Not work her ass off at two different jobs. Her need for the money more than outweighed her apprehensions about meeting a billionaire and talking to him about her art and her thoughts on Gotham.

“Alright. Tomorrow at three o’clock. Is that an okay time?”

“Oh, yes. Just in time for tea.”

_______________________________________________________________________

“Please could you stop the noise? I’m trying to get some rest,” Leena sang as she cleaned her paint brushes, “From all the unborn chicken voices in my head!”

She moved back to the canvas she had set up by the windows overlooking the city. Who knew getting a meeting with one of Gotham’s most influential men would give her inspiration for a new painting? The reference photo of Bruce Wayne was tacked into the corner of the canvas. She had gotten the idea on the train ride and subsequent bus ride back to her apartment when her shift at the gallery was over. Something about Bruce Wayne being a recluse and seeing the good in Gotham just gave her a spark of inspiration. A spark of inspiration to lesson her fears about meeting the man by painting him as a vigilante sasquatch.

It was at least making her feel better about the whole thing. Jamie had walked in from her own work shift with many questions about it. But Leena had only held up a finger for patience and put her headphones back in. Jamie knew what that meant. Her roommate had had a weird day and needed to vent through her art.

Leena continued to paint for some time. Lost in the music and the colors and shapes that flowed from her paintbrush. Leena’s mother had given her paints and paper when she was very little as a distracting craft while she tried to clean around the house. But her mother could not have known that that would have sparked a lifelong love for art and painting. A dedication to get better and better and find her own style. Winning contests, medals, and even studying art in college. Leena felt the most at home when she was painting. Felt the most herself when she had a brush in her hand and a vision in her head that just needed to be let out.

This was one of those ideas she just knew would consume her every waking, and possibly sleeping, thought until she got it out and onto the canvas. Vigilante sasquatch Bruce Wayne was going to camp out in her cerebral cortex until she had brought him to life. Trekking through the woods, covered in body hair, wearing a stupid bright red face mask. If he thought the city was so worth saving, then why didn’t he give money to the police department so they had the tools to catch the criminals loose on Gotham’s streets? Why didn’t he donate money to improve Gotham’s infrastructure, education, hospitals, mental health services, or literally anything else besides funneling money into his own company?

If she were to see him right now, she would have a piece of her mind to give him that was —

Her phone started vibrating in the pocket of her apron. Leena groaned. She had gotten into such a good groove, too. She pulled out her iPod first and paused her music. Then she flipped open her phone and held it up to her ear. She didn’t even bother to see who was calling. Her mother usually called around that time of day anyway.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” she asked as she pinched the phone between her cheek and shoulder.

“Uh — “ A distinctly male voice came through. “Sorry, this is John Blake. Were you expecting your mom to call you? Cause I can call back later.”

Oh, God. After realizing that, in her euphoria, she had forgotten to get his number, she had been waiting to hear from him for nearly two days.  

“Oh, shit,” she said, quickly wiping her paint stained hands off on her apron, “Um, no — sorry. Sorry. I wasn’t — with my mom. I can talk now. Officer Blake — John. Officer Blake?”

At the mention of that name, Jamie peeked her head out from the gap in the curtains surrounding her bed with a look of pure interest on her face. Mouth open and her eyebrows raised as she looked across the room. Leena shooed her away with a wave of her hand and an uncontrollable smile.

“You can just call me John,” he laughed, “You getting around okay without the bike?”

“Uh, yeah. Taking the train and the bus — definitely throwing my budget out of whack but — that doesn’t matter…At all.” Leena glanced over at Jamie, still listening in, only to see her roommate roll her eyes.

When did she get so terrible at talking to men?

“Well, I have some good news for you.” Leena could feel her heart jump into her mouth, making her physically stand on tip toe and stare out the window as he continued to speak. “I found it. So — uh, where do you wanna go for our date?”

Leena squeezed her eyes shut, the smile on her face nearly hurting her cheeks as she tilted her head towards the ceiling. Was this really happening? After Jacob, she didn’t know if she would ever find anyone else. If she would be willing to put herself out there like that again. But with John, something felt different. He was safe, kind, and somehow she just knew that he would never hurt her like Jacob did. She twirled around once and she could hear Jamie whispering, asking what was going on. Leena ignored her roommate.

“How about Superdawg?”

Superdawg? Jamie mouthed with an unbelieving face.

“That hotdog place over by Robinson Park?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She heard him chuckle. “Sorry. I just suppose I expected you to pick something a bit more…I don’t know…”

“I’m not a fancy kind of girl, trust me.” Leena laughed. “We could eat and then maybe take a walk around the park or something? If that sounds good to you — I don’t — “

“No, that — that sounds great, actually.  Honestly, kinda glad you didn’t pick something fancy.”

“Okay, cool.” Leena looked over at Jamie with raised brows and a wide smile. “Uh, what time?”

“Saturday — tomorrow at six? I can pick you up?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, Leena.” She loved the sound of him saying her name. “Bye.”

“Bye.” She flipped her phone closed and turned to face Jamie with fists triumphant in the air. “I have a date! And I’m getting my bike back!”

#the dark knight rises #john blake #john blake imagine #john blake x reader #john blake x you #john blake x oc #dark knight #dark knight imagine #dark knight fic #dark knight fanfic #dark knight fanfiction #john blake fic #john blake fanfic #john blake fanfiction #joseph gordon levitt #jgl #nolan batman #dark knight trilogy

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 1

The Meet Cute - Part 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You meet Chris Evans at a rooftop, industry party in New York, but will your awkwardness ruin the night?

Warnings: Profanity, Sexual connotations, but overall fluff

Notes: Please check out the moodboard + music specially curated to go with this part!

Expensive, rooftop kickback. Ice-cold beer in hand. Film industry tastemakers and Top 40 hits to soundtrack it all. It should be an ideal way to end one of the last few days of summer. And yet, Chris couldn’t help but feel out of sorts. He is a, rather THE, fun-loving party guy. But tonight, he just wasn’t feeling it. He was in a funk, and didn’t know the reason for it.

Could it be the fact he turned another year older a little over a month ago? No, I’m grateful for the blessing of aging.

Could it be that he didn’t care to be around the people in this party? That’s not it. Yeah it’s a bunch of industry schmucks, but Mackie and Scott are here; those are my boys! We always have a great time.

It could very well be a case of “the breakup blues”, as Scott puts it. Hardly, we didn’t even exchange ‘I love you’s’. It’s hardly a breakup if it wasn’t even love… right?

Chris shrugged to himself as he tuned back into the conversation around him. But as he got himself up to speed, he wished he hadn’t.

“So I have this friend I think you should meet, Chris. real cool girl. I’m not saying she’s the “perfect match” or that you should even go on a date, but you never know… y’all should just meet,” Anthony says in as neutral a tone he can muster. Aw shit, here we go again.

When Chris doesn’t give him a reaction, Scott too, tries to maintain some neutrality when asking, “Oh, really?? Tell us about her, why don’t you?” Jeez, these two.

“Well, she’s hella artsy, a creative type, if you will.”

Chris decides to patronize them, asking, “Yeah? What’s she do?”

“She’s a… uh… musician!” Scott answers, clearly excited by his brother’s minute show of interest, but realizes he’s shown their hand.

Chris raises an eyebrow to his younger brother. “So you know her too?”

“Yeah… I mean I don’t know her super well, but I met her recently… through Mackie.” Not a complete lie.

That’s… actually different. They’re always trying to set me up entrepreneurs who want me to throw money at their lip gloss business after the second date. Or worse, influencers, who are overly concerned with their “brand” and make me wait to eat while she takes pictures of the food so her “feed can also be fed”. Sheesh. But a musician, a fellow artist, could be different… “That’s cool, what kind of music?”

“It’s like alternative pop,” Scott answers, hoping to keep his brother’s attention in the subject.

“And that is …”

“…like, mostly pop, but it’s got a little bit of everything.”

“Right… what ever happened to ‘keeping shit simple’?” Chris states more than asks, as he takes a swig of his beer.

“You sound like an old man,” Scott quips, to which Chris playfully flips him off.

“ANYWAYS,” Anthony attempts to get the conversation back on track, “she’s also very intelligent, funny, youthful…”

“Youthful, huh? How old is she?”

“She’s… ya’know… young at heart… and on paper…”

“Bro, how old is she??”

“Twenty-- ”

“Let me stop you right there, ‘cos wow! I see how it is!” Outwardly, Chris feigns offense, but inwardly he’s just planning an escape from this conversation.

“You see me: a damn-near middle-age man; no wife, no kids, no GIRLFRIEND, and think I’m looking to “just meet” someone 10+ years younger than me? You think I’m looking to start my mid-life crisis or something? Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I’m out this bitch!” Chris over-dramatically scoffs, throws his hands up and rolls his eyes. As he wanders inside away from them, he laughs to himself at their antics.

“C’mon man! We’re just looking out for you!” Anthony shouts after him.

And it’s true: He knows they mean well, but the constant hovering over and hand holding of his love life is getting to be… suffocating. Chris wants to meet someone without pressure or pretense. He wants someone real, someTHING real. But more than anything right now, he wants to be left alone about it. Huh, guess I found the reason for my funk.

——————————————————————————

Having just come from an incredible writing session, you’d somewhat forgotten you’d been invited to “schmooze” some Hollywood types. You arrive to the party well into the evening, around 10:30 pm or so. Enough time to ‘schmooze’ and get the hell out. God, I HATE ass kissing… If it were up to you, you wouldn’t be here tonight, but Anthony and Scott were persistent on getting you out.

You hadn’t bothered changing your outfit cos it was comfortable + cute + completely party ready, in your humble opinion, but the disapproving looks from a couple of bougie Bettys by the in-door bar didn’t go unnoticed. I really couldn’t care less. I just collaborated with one of my most faviorite writers EVER for Mackie’s movie!

Your name sounds off in the near distance. It’s a couple of your co-stars, Ansel and Jaden. You’d met them previously at a Vanity Fair party about a year ago. They’d each been publicly supportive of your work and you’d been *platonically* in each of their DMs, but they’re both no more than acquaintances.

Chatting to them for a bit, there’s introductions to the preexisting group, some of whom seem a little star struck, or maybe taken aback by your attire? It’s getting harder for me to read people nowadays. 

You ask them where Scott and Mackie are, seeing as the former invited you here and the latter is a good friend of yours. Ansel points you in a general direction, and you thank him before you head that way.

The indoor dining and lounge area open up to a large, open-air, rooftop patio. It’s packed with film industry folk; A-list to up-and-coming, like yourself. You’re not exactly sure what the celebration is, just that Scott & Mackie insisted that you show your face, rub eblows, but most importantly, let loose for once; seeing as you are making your break into acting this year. A much needed change of pace from your usual work.

‘Japan’ by Famous Dex is playing as you sneak up behind an unexpecting Scott. Taking him by the hips from behind, you sway to the beat with your pelvis to his backside. To your amusement, he’s visibly startled and turns around, his face changing from “WTF?!” to “OMG!!” when he sees you. You don’t stop dancing, but instead get a little more raunchy as Scott joins in with you. You share a laugh, hug and air kiss.

“Let me stop. I’m not using all my moves on you tonight!”

“That’s too bad, but maybe we can find someone for you to use them on,” he replies with a wink. You playfully roll your eyes and swat at his arm. Yeah, highly doubt it. Not what I’m here for, anyways.

"How ya doing Kid? How was the writing sesh?” Mackie asked while being a little distracted with texting. You assumed it was for work because usually Anthony was a very present individual. Not only was he in the movie, but he was a producer, and you figured he hadn’t turned that part of himself off even though he was at a party.

You started to gush about the session, the collaboration, how that one part “just came together” when… oh my fucking gawd.

“Hey Kid, I want you to meet my good friend—“

“He was my brother before he was your friend!”

“Wow, really you guys?”

Mackie finishes introducing you to Chris Evans. Chris motherfucking Evans. You wonder if he’d always been standing there or if he just walked over, because you didn’t notice him before. You shake hands, and get a little shy now, hoping it wasn’t noticeable. Chris plasters on a polite, but fake smile. Shit. He can see the fangirl in my eyes!! Get a grip sis!

“So... how do you know these two?” Chris motions left then right, from Scott to Anthony.

“Uh... um... movie.” You nod as if you’re trying to convince not only Chris, but yourself, that you just gave an adequate answer.

“What she means is that she’s a part of the movie Mackie and I are doing.”

“Oh, alright cool, cool. What do you do?”

“Well, I’m a sing--”

“SINGle actress! She’s very single, and very much an actress,” Anthony looks at you with widened eyes as he nods his head slowly, like you bumped your head and forgot what you do. What’s up with him?

“Um, yeah, I have a supporting role, which is more than enough for my intro to the silver screen.”

“Your first movie? Congrats! You’re in good hands with these guys on set with you. Just remember--”

“Stay away from bananas?” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Wow. No one makes a move in the awkward air you set. You just made a reference to his somewhat embarrassing-- yet very comical-- film debut. You dummy!

“I’m so sor—”

“No. No, no don’t. It’s, uh... fine,” he says, half laughing. You all return to awkward silence, with Chris looking off into the distance, pretending to wave at someone so he can plan an escape for the second time tonight. You’re too busy studying the ground and mentally kicking yourself for your stupidity to notice Scott and Anthony, panicked looks on their faces and gesturing to the other to “do something” to save this train wreck of a conversation. Anthony decides to break the silence.

“Yo Kid, Lemme see your hand.”

“My hand? Why?”

“Just let me see it!” 

Your hand is guided to Chris’ clothed, taut pec by Anthony.

“Feel that? Good stuff, right? Soft to the touch, yet strong and dependable. But most importantly, makes ya feel real good in bed.” No he didn’t just say that!!

Chris mouths a ‘wow’ with raised brows, and you cautiously take back your hand, slightly bewildered *but not really* by Anthony’s boldness. Anthony still holds on to your hand lightly.

“What man? It’s Egyptian cotton! I don’t mean to embarrass ya!”

“Somehow, I think you do,” Chris chuckles while he takes a swig of his beer, eyeing you tentatively. You can’t bring yourself to make eye contact with him, and just fix your eyes straight ahead. I’m literally staring at a wall... of muscle.

“Look, let me see your hand.”

“Hey, hey! He ain’t stroking my chest; it is NOT that kind of party… gotta at least take me to dinner first.” You whisper the last part, but Chris still catches it and laughs at your quip. The tension in your shoulders eases up some, but only a little, not trusting yourself to get too comfortable.

“Just trust me!” Anthony whines at you.

“Last time I “just trusted you” Mackie, I ended up fleeing a pack of angry ducks… I still have the scar!”

“Wait, wha—“

Mackie brought yours and Chris’ hands together for his large hand to hold your smaller one, and there was… electricity?

“Isn’t that the softest hand you ever felt? What do you use?”

“Uh… Shea butter.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it! Oh won’t you look at that. Her ring finger is naked, hm… and look at how good she looks in white!” Nope, just more awkwardness.

You share an embarrassed smile and glance away from each other while each of your hands gently fall back to your sides.

“Leave it to Mackie to be subtle…” Scott intervenes, “Well! Now that all the cool kids are here, why don’t you, Chris, take our lovely friend here over to the bar to get a drink so we can get this party started!”

——————————————————————————

Silence settles over you and Chris at the busy bar as you wait for the bartender to service you. It’s not necessarily awkward, but definitely not comfortable. You take this moment to breathe in the New York air to soothe your nerves, while also starkly avoiding eye contact with the handsome devil to your left. But after a while, you decide to take the lead with small talk.

“Hey... I am SUPER sorry about my ‘banana’ joke earlier. I didn’t mean to--”

“Stop. It’s fine, really. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” You exhale a little at his words, relieved you didn't offend him. “I’m the one who should say ‘sorry’... I normally laugh at jokes about myself.”

“Then why didn’t you? You left me hanging out there!” He chuckles a bit as he sips his beer. Now it’s his turn to exhale.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, that’s, uh… cool.” Chris side glances at you, finding your nervous energy amusing... and endearing. He decides to mess with you a little.

“So, how long have you been acting?”

“Oh, uh... not that long. I’ve done a few things here and there, but this is my first serious role.”

“Ok. And how long have you been single?” Realizing how that might’ve sounded suggestive, he attempts to backtrack. “I didn’t mean like-- just Mackie made mention-- I wasn’t like-- ‘s just trying to mess with you a little...” Well THAT backfired.

You couldn’t help but giggle at seeing him flustered. “I guess it’s my turn to say, ‘It’s fine’?” to this, Chris is visably relieved. “Yeah, I would also apologize for Mackie’s behavior, but you’ve known him longer than I have, so I’ll let you claim him when he acts like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a meddling… muffdiver…?” you couldn’t think of anything good, but Chris laughs heartily at this. You can’t help but admire his strong, manly features as they melt into something reminiscent of a child. Head thrown back, clutching his chest, boisterous laughter booming from him. You can’t help but join him in laughing at your lame joke.

“So does this mean I owe you an apology?” He leans on the bar, looking every bit the yacht daddy and gives you a sly smirk. Is he… flirting?

“I guess so. I’m waiting…” you say, tapping your imaginary watch and a sly smirk of your own. Am I flirting??

“Well, tough luck… ‘Kid’. You’ll be waiting forever. I’m not apologizing for shit Mackie does cos he’s my amazing friend who I’ll always ‘claim’ and love unconditionally… even if he acts like a ‘meddling muffdiver’.”

“First of all: aww! That was very bromantic of you.” Chris chuckles at your unique term, making a mental note to use it sometime. It’s cute. Like her smile…

“And Secondly?”

“Secondly… I’ve only begrudgingly given Mackie permission to call me ‘Kid’.”

“Why’s that?”

“I guess… Cos he’s like an uncle to me, and you gotta let him have some things,” you laugh to yourself thinking of your relationship with Anthony.

“But don’t let the nickname fool ya!” You continued, “I’m a grown ass woman, at a grown ass party, ready to have some fun, and shake my grown ass… “

“Ass?” You both pause for a moment before bursting into laughter. It’s great to laugh with someone like this…

“I’ll admit: I didn’t think about where that line of ranting would land.” You both take a brief moment to take each other in. Looking at him while he’s looking at you starts to make your face feel hot, so you break the silence.

“So… what are we celebrating tonight? I’m kinda new to this scene,”

“You know what, I don’t even know what. I was invited by a few different people, each with their own reasons for coming. So, anything really. ”

You’re finally served your drinks and make the short walk back over to Anthony and Scott. When you reached them you raised your glass to signal you were making a toast.

“Well, here’s to good health, good company, endless creativity, and, and…”

“Grown-ass asses!” Chris finishes for you.

“Amen! Salud!” You all clinked drinks, but Mackie and Scott were confused by the last bit.

“You had to be there,” Chris answered with a wink in your direction when they inquired. You blushed slightly, never more thankful for your melanin to cover it up.

Mackie and Scott looked between you and Chris, confusion etched on their faces, as you’d only been alone for all of 5 minutes. They resolved into knowing, satisfied looks between each other.

This goes unnoticed by you and Chris. The pair of you start talking about the movie that you’re starting next month with his brother and friend.

This turns into talking about how you met them, more laughter, some refilled drinks, more conversation, then light touches to arms and hands. The touches were unintentional, but welcomed by both of you, leading to lots of coy smiles and lingering looks. Tonight might not be so bad after all…

Part 2

#chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans x you #Slow Burn Series

[utterlyinevitable]

hc about what happened in the time jump for the bryce and raf routes to fix this mess? Make the lack of progression make sense! please and thank you

Sorry it’s taken a while to get these two done, i’ve been too busy living in my carefully curated Ethan timeline 😅 You can find Ethan x MC During the Time Jump here. (raf will be another post) 

Bryce x MC During the Time Jump

After the gala, things weren’t that much different between them. 

The most notable difference was the intimacy. It seemed stronger, deeper. Effortless. 

They weren’t casual anymore that much was certain. They weren’t just fucking for fun. They were making love to last a life time. Their bodies knew one another in a tale as old as time.

But they’re both too timid to admit it. They won’t say the weighted phrase until they’re certain life and residency won’t tear them apart.

MC spent any free time she could having dinners with Keiki and Bryce. MC did most of the cooking but Bryce was the best sous chef learning how to adventure past pasta. The two doctor’s helping the teen out with her homework however they could. As smart as they are, they don’t understand Common Core...

But then Ethan turning the hospital into a greater version of the clinic meant MC was constantly busy. She barely even had 30 minutes to grab lunch. And sometimes she was even much too tired for drinks at Donahue’s.

Bryce had to lean on his surgical acquaintances a lot more now that his internal medicine buddies weren’t around. The clinic hadn’t trickled down to the surgical department; mostly because there were only so many ORs and you couldn’t rush procedures.

The week before Thanksgiving Bryce and Keiki were invited to MC’s apartment to celebrate with her roommates on their only day off together in weeks. 

Despite the exhaustion everyone felt, they were up early and super cheery. 

Sienna did most of the cooking with MC and Aurora lending a hand. Bryce and Jackie were on drinks duty and Elijah was in charge of entertainment. 

They all crowded around the dining table on the matching chairs and ones from their bedroom desks in order to accommodate. It was a mismatch but it was perfect. 

Conversation flowed freely and everyone said what they’re thankful for and what they think the upcoming year will hold.  

Then out of seemingly nowhere Keiki brought up boarding school.

Bryce looked at her with utter shock. The other’s asked questions about it. 

Keiki shrugged saying, “it’s just an idea. I can’t live with Bryce forever”. 

It was true, but doesn’t mean Bryce felt a little sad at his sister leaving all too soon.  

Christmas came sooner than anyone realized. 

MC saw her family the weekend before the holiday as became her tradition since med school. 

Since Bryce’s call to his mother about the funds to send Keiki to boarding school, she was sending him more messages and asking Keiki to come home for the holiday. She offered to pay for first class flights for her two darling children to come home. 

Both Lahela’s were against it.

Bryce took off as much time as he could to spend with the kid before she goes to school. But there’s only a handful of days he could take off at the busiest time of the year.

He managed to get Christmas and the day after off, and a half day on Christmas Eve.

Eve evening, Bryce came home to half priced decorations unceremoniously scattered about his living room, and Keiki and Mc standing on the couch trying to hang a daisy chain banner that looked like kindergarteners made it.

He couldn’t help but smile and pull MC into the biggest hug. She made everything 1000x better. 

The small family spent the evening eating and laughing and decorating the table top tree MC and Keiki picked up at the Walgreens down the street.

Cuddled up on the sofa in each other’s arms and Keiki on the makeshift bed she’d been sleeping on since her arrival, they watched classic Christmas movies and ate chocolate. It was perfect. 

Except MC had to work the next evening.

The amount of patients coming through Edenbrook’s doors tripled in the upcoming days and kept everyone busy.

Luckily the group of friends were able to spend New Years together. 

There wasn’t a single question as to if they were kissing at midnight. 

Bryce started kissing MC during the countdown; from her neck, up her jaw to her ear, cheeks, to the tip of her nose and then her lips at midnight. 

Shortly after the brief celebrations with the others, the two retired to her bedroom and kept ringing in the new year the right way.  

Keiki leaves for boarding school a few days after New Years. It was a very emotional journey down to Connecticut. 

Bryce was endlessly thankful MC accompanied him. Without her he’s pretty sure if would have cried a lot more on the drive home. And he probably would have stopped off at some sketchy gas station for a pick-me-up snack. Thankfully, MC suggested they hit Buffalo Wild Wings before entering the city instead. 

The couple thought Keiki being gone would give them more time together.

They were so wrong.

Mc got busier and busier and her time off didn’t coincide with his schedule, and everything got so damn complicated.

They hadn’t seen one another properly outside the hospital that wasn’t in passing in weeks.

So Bryce carved out some time around Valentine’s Day. 

MC was too busy to even realize the significance of the day. Every single day melded together to the point she didn’t know what was up or down, the month and barely clocked the time. 

She was leaning against the nurse’s station rapidly filling out charts when Bryce made a move. 

He slid up next to her, rubbed her shoulders and told her to take break with him. 

“Bryce I can’t I have patients. You see that line don’t you?”

“You haven’t taken lunch yet,” he said simply. He dropped his hands and turned around and called, “Hey Inès, MC is going on lunch!”

“Enjoy!” the senior resident called back. 

Bryce folded up the charts, handed them to Sarah behind the desk and dragged MC by both the wrists down the hall to the elevator. 

“Where are we going?” MC asked. 

Bryce may have set up a little rendezvous spot in a shut down inpatient wing. He had some take out he picked up from the café around the corner set up by the window and two clinical chairs. On the still-made bed was a stuffed bear holding a “Be Mine” heart and chocolate that he certainly did not steal from the gift shop. 

“The last time we were in one of these something really magical happened,” he said as he closed the door behind them. 

“The only thing magic was your hands.” MC wrapped her arms around his neck and pecked his lips. 

The evening of the group’s night on the town started off rough and stressful.

Bryce admitted he applied for a transfer to MK. He needs to be in Boston or really any hospital within driving distance of his sister’s school. She didn’t fly all the way out here just to be abandoned by him again.

MC understood - of course she understood his reason for staying here. She just didn’t know what to do for herself. They hadn’t talked about the long term, if they were going to try and be close. They hadn’t talked about their future at all, actually. The only times they did Keiki was the main subject. 

And she guessed she just had to apply to places and hope for the best. She knew where he’d be and now she needs to figure out if she fits into that.  

When applications got sad and boring the group got all dolled up and went out for a drink. Or six. Enough alcohol to forget the awkwardness that was earlier in their apartment. To forget the looming uncertainty of their unofficial relationship. 

Bryce was committed. MC was committed. They just weren’t vocal about their devout commitment. 

They got so drunk and ended up at the helipad on top of Edenbrook.

Cracking beers in hand, dancing and singing and enjoying the evening to it’s fullest. Bryce held her close and they lamented on the view as they sat against the wall, anticipating the sunrise over the horizon. 

The nightly breeze picked up. He rubbed patterns up and down her arms and she drew circles at his inner thigh. 

MC looked at him, their eyes locking.

Bryce’s lips turned upwards in a weighted smile. MC leaned her forehead against his and let out the sigh she didn’t know she was holding in. 

He kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her cheek. Then her nose. Then her neck. Her hands gripping to the lapels of his sports coat. 

They went back to his place and they didn’t talk about the future at all. Both of them clinging to the here and now. 

That evening they didn’t have sex. They held one other the entire night. They fell asleep to the sound of the other’s heartbeat.  

Small pleasantries were exchanged in the morning along with light kisses. 

For another time that year, they both felt the change. 

Edenbrook’s last day came and they were both in their feelings. Bryce was set to start at MK in a few weeks time and MC still didn’t know where she was going. Not a single application response on the east coast had come back yet. 

Bryce was standing outside with his best friends when the lights of Edenbrook finally went off that fateful day. 

Minutes later MC walked out. He noticed how her features, mood and hopes simultaneously fell lower than he’d seen in a while.

Her eyes found him right away, his arms waiting for her. She melted into his hug. Deep in his embrace with all her friends chattering around them, a part of her hoped they could compromise. There was so much more to explore between them. This couldn’t be the end. 

The entire Boston Bucket List event was bittersweet. As much as they enjoyed the escapades and these memories with their friends Bryce and MC just wanted some time alone. They needed time together to combat the unknown. 

By the time it was MC’s turn she chose a total cop-out. A kiss with Bryce. 

A kiss she hoped encompassed every feeling she was too scared to say. A kiss that told him just how much the uncertainty of their future was eating her up inside. A kiss he desperately needed as well. 

________________________________________

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#Anonymous #asked #bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce x mc #open heart #open heart hc #open heart headcanons