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pepsiboyy · 3 days

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HEARTSTRINGS. - p1

masterlist ⚜ p2

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: after moving to massachusetts from florida, y/n lives with her half brother, nathan doe, who is part of a small garage band. their sassy guitarist, chris sturniolo, can't help but get on her nerves. but there's something about him. warnings: use of y/n lol, mentions of drugs, cursing a/n: rewrote the FUCK out of this, i hope this one is SO MUCH BETTER. love u guys. <3

"chris?"

"phone charger girl!"

"the fuck is he doing here?" my voice boomed in the garage, causing nathan to flinch slightly.

"woah, you two know each other?"

"sort of." chris responded with that stupid smug smirk on his face.

"not at all, actually." i responded quickly, immediately shutting down chris' disgusting expression.

my heartbeat was racing. i couldn't feel anything but anger in every fiber of my being. i couldn't help but remember to myself earlier today.

i had been living in massachusetts for about three days now. very interesting place, very different from florida.

after my mom's drug addiction became a major issue, cps was informed and i was sent to my dad's in boston, where i was completely unfamiliar with everyone and everything.

my dad's side, they weren't complete strangers if checking his status on facebook counted as being close.

shortly after i was born, my mom took me and left my dad in boston while we fled to live in florida. and as i get older, i can't help but feel more hatred towards the woman. my dad was a great guy, never deserved the way she treated him. he definitely did not deserve his first child being ripped away from his grasp a few months into my life.

when my mom and i moved to florida, my dad met another woman and had a child with her, whose name is nathan.

he seems like a really cool guy, an awesome brother to have, so i was looking forward to this move a lot, more than i probably should have.

the feeling of fresh air was appealing to me and the feeling of finally being there to reassure my dad that i want to be with him was even more exciting to me.

nate and i clicked pretty quickly, talking about our music taste on the way home from the airport. we talked a lot about video games, and he told me he was involved in a small garage band and plays the drums.

"that's so fucking cool!" i exclaimed with a bright smile, and nathan nodded.

"yeah! we mostly do covers now, but i plan on releasing some new and original music soon."

i nodded as i stayed focused on nate as he spoke, playing with my hands in my lap nervously.

the fact that this kid was my brother was so mind blowing to me. i couldn't wait.

the doe family had left to go to an event they had only bought three tickets for. i reassured them over and over that i was okay with staying at the house and continuing to settle in. and with that they left.

i dug through my bag and frowned when i came to a tragic realization.

"fuck." i cursed under my breath as i stood up and slid on my shoes.

time to go to that one gas station down the street we stopped at on the way here from the airport.

i left the house through the front door and slid my earbuds into my ears, playing my favorite playlist as i walked down the street.

boston was a lot more close together than florida. it genuinely made my heart happy.

about fifteen minutes into my walk and i find the gas station, pulling the door opened and look at the employee at the counter, smiling faintly to greet him. his eyes were glued to his phone though, so i turned to make my way up and down the aisles and look for the phone charger that works for my phone.

"eighteen dollars is fucking bizarre." i muttered under my breath at the charging brick box that i now have between my fingers. i carefully took it off the bar and grabbed a six ft long cord, making my way to the counter.

this is great. no job, new place, and i was already burning a hole into my savings for a fucking phone charger.

i set the two boxes on the counter and began digging through my pockets to find my wallet, the boxes hitting the counter a little harder than i had intended.

"woah there, sensing some aggression from 'ya. boyfriend start an argument with you or what?"

i finally found my wallet, but my eyes shifted quickly to the boy at the counter. "excuse me?" i asked, my face flushed at the thought. "it doesn't-" i blinked a few times. this kid was insane. "just ring me out please." i sighed as i inserted my card in the cardreader.

"relax sweetheart, just yankin' your chain." he stated defensively, skipping through the prompts on his screen. his hair was a little longer than average, and fairly wavy. he had a silver cuban link bracelet on one wrist and a few small handmade ones on the other, a ring or two on each hand. he had silver hoops in his ears and a plain black t-shirt on over his blue baggy jeans.

i stared at him in disbelief before i put my pin into the pad, yanking out my card as soon as it beeped and quickly shoving it into my wallet. chris set the charger boxes into a small plastic bag, placing it on the counter between us.

"i'm not your sweetheart," i narrowed my eyes at the nametag on his shirt, sucking in through my teeth, "chris."

i gripped the bag and left the gas station, and never turned back to see chris with his arms raised, and that disgusting smirk on his face.

my music was playing extra loud in my headphones in a desperate attempt to drown out the sound of nate slamming the drums in the garage.

i carefully sat up, my hand moving to run through my hair as i slipped on my shoes and stepped down the stairs. i was just wearing some pajama shorts and an oversized hoodie, but who even cares, right?

my hair was thrown into a messy bun, and i had one earbud in as my eyes were glued to my phone. i turned the doorknob to the garage carefully before stepping in and lifting my head as the music came to a halt.

and with that, my eyes widened.

and that's how we got here. with a finger pointed to my face.

"the fuck is he doing here?" my voice boomed in the garage, causing nathan to flinch slightly.

"woah, you two know each other?"

"sort of." chris responded with that stupid, smug smirk on his face.

"not at all, actually." i immediately barked back, crossing my arms.

nate looked between us both and shrugged it off quickly before he pulled a chair beside him. "come listen, y/n. i think you'd like it a lot." he told me.

i couldn't say no. i really was curious to hear nathan play. "okay, sure. just for a bit though." i reminded him of the time, and he smiled brightly and sat down in his seat.

i felt chris' eyes burning into the back of my head the whole time, his shaggy brunette locks perfectly draping over his forehead, which was a bit damp, while his eyes shifted to focus on his guitar again.

nate turned to me with a bright smile, grabbing his drumsticks as he glanced to the other two, making sure they were ready.

i watched the three and smiled as they began playing.

they were really good, actually.

better than i had expected them to be.

with nathan slamming the drums with his drumsticks and the boy i didn't know yet playing the bass, chris actually knocked his part out of the park.

chris glanced up for half a second, where we locked eyes. my eyes widened as he turned back to his guitar and a small smile grew on his face.

i hate this kid.

the song came to an end, and i turned to nathan, applauding happily.

"you guys sound great, genuinely. have you guys worked on any original stuff?"

nathan chuckled and shrugged, glancing between the other two. "a bit. chris writes phenomenal lyrics. we're working on it."

i glanced to chris for a moment, who was now gently strumming the strings of his guitar. i gulped as i stared at his hands, then turned back to nate. "i'm excited for you guys. let me know if i can do anything to help?"

nate nodded happily, and i stood up.

"alright, i'm gonna try and go to sleep. good luck to you guys." i waved at the three, and smiled at nate, my eyes quickly glancing at chris who waved softly back, no clear expression on his face anymore.

and with that, i opened the garage door and shut it, before taking a deep sigh and leaning against it.

"dude, you didn't tell me your sister was bad as hell," an unfamiliar voice rang, which i assumed was the bassist.

"wh- ben, gross! shut up dude," nathan quickly stated.

i cringed at the boy's comment, shaking my head quickly as if he could see me responding or something.

"invite her more often." chris stated blankly, standing up from his seat as he adjusted his guitar strap.

nathan turned to chris and narrowed his eyes.

i quickly stood up and made my way back to my bedroom, laying flat against the bed and turning up the music playing in my earbuds.

chris playing guitar and writing some lyrics.

it made me genuinely curious about whether or not this guy actually wrote good lyrics.

i hated being curious about him.

but i needed to know more.

masterlist ⚜ p2

comment to be added to taglist!! taglist;; @sturnioloshacker

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo fluff

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literalgrill · 4 months

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Do NOT Support Hard Drive On Patreon

You might see friends today suggesting you support Hard Drive on Patreon today. You know, the funny video games version of The Onion? As a journalist, I will firmly tell you DO NOT GIVE THEM A DIME.

The CEO has pushed out all former staff that have built the site up to its current greatness and has been pushing the use of AI. The staff begged to have a Patreon before basically all being pushed out, but the idea was refused until now, when it will only line the pockets of a single person instead of hard working writers.

I know they might have provided laughs before, but Hard Drive is a shell of what it was once. Let it die and support the people who actually made those moments of joy possible. Don't believe me? Check out what former employees are saying below:

Kevin Podas: Okay you know what, I would feel bad saying nothing about this, so here goes:🚨SAVE YOUR MONEY🚨

We passionately advocated for a Patreon at Hard Drive & were aggressively shot down. The talent & people who built the site were pushed out. To see this now is beyond upsetting. For the past few years or so I put a lot of myself into this website. I pitched a ton of jokes, got over 120 articles published, & met a lot of great people. I'm sure if you've been following me for some time you could easily see this.

However, there is a lot of misinformation. I was eventually promoted to Managing Editor of the site & was ecstatic. Grateful for the opportunity. Felt like all of my hard work in the comedy mines was finally paying off. But things took a turn for the worst, & each day there were new surprises that affected our livelihoods. These were all very avoidable surprises, mind you.

A patreon was going to be our hail mary, but alas, for some reason, the power that be did not want it. Causing us to leave a dream job behind. "At least we did all we could," we consoled ourselves afterwards. I put a lot of myself into this project. I pitched all sorts of ideas that could have helped-- we all did. Merch collaborations, Patreon-integrated YouTube content, so much more. And most of them were shot down out of sheer stubbornness and nothing more. To see lie after lie spread, and multiple big publications and YouTubers that I am a fan of promote this Patreon under these pretenses is incredibly upsetting. There are so many receipts.

Please share this and consider pulling out if you've already put money into this. On Hard Drive using AI, also from Kevin Podas: I can't personally confirm that part aside from some of the recent header images for articles on both Hard Drive and Hard Times are being made with AI. As far as writing, it's been mentioned in the past, but I personally do not know. Maybe others do, maybe not. MORE From Kevin Podas suggesting the owner denying a Patreon being set up earlier cost an artist a job that was replaced by AI: We had a social media person who was awesome! He made the images until this AI implementation. He had to leave because ad revenue was low and a Patreon was aggressively refused.

Luca Fisher: at the risk of burning some bridges, i have to back up kevin here. i've only been part-time, in-and-out of hard drive since i got in last year, but i can corroborate that management doubled and tripled down about not hosting a patreon/crowdfunding and that many other suggestions and ideas, including mine (and ones much smarter than mine!), were shot down in really long, apocalyptic threads of everyone left on deck desperately trying to come up with ways to keep the lights on. managerially it has been messy and sad

i've written for multiple publications that have long since died, ones that were in the process of dying, and ones that, in this case, are soon to be put in the ground. it is sad and sucks every time. i don't know what could have been done differently, but i do know that a lot of great writers and content creators were left shorthanded and unhappy by the way things have gone. and it is sort of puzzling to see the sudden championing of patreon after we were all told plenty of times that it couldn't work and we should move on also, just to add my own personal two cents here, i was really disappointed by the shuttering of many different article sections on the site over the past 6-8 months. i understand cutting corners in a deficit, and i know it had to be done. that said…

all in all, i'm really sad to see this all happen. i don't fault anyone, if only because i don't really know enough about how this all can happen to make sense of it. games journalism is in a sad, sorry state, and will likely no longer be a thing in the next decade

VideoSealMan: I'm gonna say this because I think I deserve to. For months, MONTHS on end I was bugging Hard Drive management about a Patreon. Often I got ignored for a week+, but when I actually got a response I was encouraged to - of all things, write up a Google Doc pitching the concept I did it regardless. I wasn't the only one trying to sway management on a Patreon, but so fiercely was I fighting for it that last night, I was accused of making this comment directly by the CEO! With no evidence whatsoever! After I'd been gone for over a month.

I vouched so hard for Patreon because I wanted all the writers and creatives working with Hard Drive including myself to get paid better. When I actually got a response, the idea was often shut down. Eventually due to the state of my company, my pay was cut for a second time I confronted management alongside a couple other important figureheads at the org and told them that if we couldn't do a Patreon - I could no longer financially justify staying there. The answer was still no, so I left. Baffled at the decision, but whatever.

It is unendingly frustrating to know that myself and many other people who put their soul into Hard Drive LEFT because of management's absolute refusal to compromise on a Patreon, to then see them launch one anyway a month later and get over 1000 people pledging money. I'm seeing a lot of things float around about greed and people being fired. No one was fired. Everyone who left, left because they were sick of management's decision-making. And honestly, management is a lot of things but I would not call them greedy. (From my experience.) They did genuinely make an effort to pay people as much as possible. I found the pay very fair for a while. I am not disputing that I was paid what I was owed - yet management frequently feels the need to remind critics of that. Lmao, yes. I was paid what I was owed. No one is disputing payment. You did the bare minimum a business owner should do and paid everyone their due, very well done. I make no allegations of greed, cheating or foul play. I make allegations of poor management and incompetence that has fucked over other people.

Basically the only people left at Hard Drive have been there for about 2 months. They will reap the rewards of this successful Patreon I and so many others passionately fought for for so long. We will not see a dime.

I do not know the new people at Hard Drive, But I feel bad for them. They were haphazardly thrust into Hard Drive's workplace with little to no explanation on how anything works, or given any context on the state of the place. Even now managements feeds them half-truths and misinformation about other people's grievances. I am broke and have been for a while. I had to move out of my flat in Reading and back with my family because of how little money I was making. This has basically doomed my flatmate to moving back in with abusive parents, which is something I feel guilty about every day. If we had gone with the Patreon I worked myself hoarse over back then, this could have been avoided. Some of my other good pals could also not have been fucked over.

It was a bad judgment call, but it's not a crime. It's just management getting it wrong.

So should you give to the Hard Drive Patreon? I don't know! I don't think any of the new people working there to patch up the holes left by the recent mass exodus have any bad intentions. Maybe they deserve it! But it is not the same site you knew a year ago, or even a month ago. Myself and many people who were there far longer than me and did far more for it than I did are all gone now because we could not deal with management's terrible decision-making and dogass communication any longer. That's what you should know, imo

I had an agreement in place with management that I would receive the next 8 months of revenue from the Hard Drive YT channel from my leaving in November. This was a deal I appreciated, and thought was very fair on management's behalf. So far, the deal has been honoured for 2 months. However as of last night I was removed from the Hard Drive Slack without warning, and as an editor for the YouTube channel. This means I no longer have any way of verifying how much I am owed, I just have to take their word for it. I'm sure management will make their own statements full of half-truths and weird language on the many cases being brought against them - I'd take everything they say with a pinch of salt if some of the screenshots I've seen of them talking about me are any indication lol

To management; I do not want to talk to you. I want you to DM me a screenshot of how much I'm owed every month and then send me the money per our agreement until June, then we can go our separate ways. Do that and admit to your mistakes, and maybe you can recover your reputation! That's it from me, lol. If they pull out of the deal and fuck me over I'll have more to say, but most of what I know is other people's stories of incompetence and poor decision-making, lol. I genuinely get no pleasure out of doing this; I do not think management is evil - I just think they're really bad at what they do and it's cost other, more talented people, lol. You should believe the writers imo

One last thing I wanna say btw, management did often stress that no one should try to make Hard Drive a full time thing. They were transparent about that, and that is fair. I was working on it because at a few points, I was lead to believe we actually were doing a Patreon. Many other ppl have similar stories of being strung along by management changing their minds and stop-starting shit every 2 weeks. We all made the fatal mistake of overestimating our manager - who would tell you one thing one day and something totally opposite the next week lol

Hunter R. Thompson:

I'm not your dad, but speaking as a Hard Drive writer, I don't know that funding Hard Drive on Patreon is worth it

The driving talent on the back end—behind the kickass site I joined in 2019—have peaced out over the years as the site's been (in our view) increasingly mismanaged. Mismanagement like, not setting up crowdfunding before the ship sank and all its best crew failed; or publishing a screenshot of Andy Ngo pedojacketing a trans writer, complete with her deadname; or a disgruntled ex-writer getting falsely accused of shit-talk, by actual staff. I'm grateful for the writing I've gotten to produce for HD (and will forever be kicking myself for not writing even more, in the four years I've had to do it!! i'm a dumbass!!!) but it is very much no longer the site I signed up for.

I don't want to resign as a contributor altogether, because I'm open to the idea of the site recovering and bad practices being retired as finances level out-- it would just be dishonest for potential backers to not be Aware Of The Circumstances, I think.

Jeremy Kaplowitz: i truly don't want to start shit, but feel compelled to say: i want to see Hard Drive succeed w/o resorting to throwing former writers & editors, myself included, under the bus. surely there's a way to save the site without building it over the corpses of those who left. my $0.02 i don't blame anyone who wants to sign up for the HD patreon and i support the website, but that includes those who worked on it for years, have complaints, and don't deserve to be treated like bitter assholes like this kind of stuff is just objectively true, meanwhile there's these new writers who joined the site after i left (meaning, in the last ~3 months) claiming people are liars. decide for yourself if you care, but this is what happened! [Quotes this Tweet]

Seth Finkelstein: Writing for Hard Drive has been a privilege the past few years, and it makes me so angry to see people I looked up to get jerked around behind the scenes. The amount of grenades the editors jumped on our behalf is immense, and I don't think the way they're being treated is right.

Other Bits On AI: We do know for sure however that AI art has been used by the site. Its fucking owner confirms it here:https://twitter.com/MattSaincome/status/1743040541603123622. Seems the owner pushed AI written articles as well! TayFabe: My vaguetweet is making the rounds & these made me apoplectic. - owner regularly lobbied using ai. Once he tested it & said ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. - ai images were used on the site & socials w/o consulting the team or disclosing it publicly I found the ai bit relevant to include bc 1) it illuminates a stark change in HD's current direction & leadership, 2) ai images have previously been used on the site and (since deleted) ig posts, 3) ai content fucking sucks, and repeatedly pushing to use it is a telling quality The "handful of writers who chose to leave" includes 2 editors-in-chief (both cofounders who wrote a combined total of >1,000 articles & defined the voice of HD), & at least 3 other editors. These guys put in WORK since 2017, so cool to be corrected by ppl who joined in Nov 2023 [Link to mentioned vague tweet from post.] More from TayFabe: owner continuously lobbied for using ai in every possible way. No one else wanted to do it, but he kept on, saying ai was writing better satire than 25% of the HT/HD writers. Also, ai images were used on the site & socials without public disclosure or consulting the team.

The owner has responded now multiple times in a private discord... Thank you for people sharing screenshots! First Screenshot:

Kevin's Response: He banned me from the server for speaking out, so no, I didn't see it. And he gave no indication of a timeline, it was just "we'll do one when *I* say so" and gave every inclination he was totally against it. It bred an environment that pushed our hands to have to leave. Screenshot Round Two:

Kevin's Response: "Starting one in 3 months" is an absolute lie. He denied it, I have screenshots and others who can confirm. No timeline was given. Just "this is what it is now" and like, I couldn't live off of that. I wanted to do more but he was allergic to good ideas from others around him.

Matt, owner of Hard Drive, responds publicly on Twitter.

Matt: Kevin, the patreon launch was delayed because I didn't think it would work. Everyone is happy that it did work. Everyone who left the site because we didn't have money to pay for creative content which didn't revenue is welcome to return home. But unclear why the hostility.

Hard Drive paid out literally every dollar it had, then a bunch more, to creative people who worked on the site. When we ran out of money, we couldn't pay anymore. We did our best.

Kevin: Right, and my point of this thread was that it was completely and totally avoidable. This is reasonable to be upset about. How could I have been any more clear?

Matt: If we knew with 100% certainly that the community would have supported us via patreon, we would have done that. We didn't know. We had tried 4 years ago and got no support. We were wrong this time. We did our best to figure it out. We paid all the money we could.

Kevin: So you knew with 100% certainty this time? Or you took a leap of faith?

Matt: It was a last gasp panic effort after ad rates got cut in half on january 1st due to seasonal spending changes. We didn't know it would work. We were embarrassed to ask for support. We wanted to figure it out.

Kevin: Every site has a Patreon. Every YouTuber, comedy group, etc. But you insisted that nobody cared about Hard Drive. Which is wildly untrue. I know you see that now, but again, I think you can see why I and many others are pretty upset. A last ditch panic effort was long overdue. A couple more things from Matt:

It was about the size of the hole we needed plugged budget wise, the time I had left of personal resources, and the past data I had about us trying a patreon (which turned out to be a bad indicator). I didn't think the Patreon would help us fast enough. I made a bad estimation

aka "if we make $1000 more dollars a month via patreon, which would be 10x what we got last time, we will not solve any of our problems. If instead we try to plow down path B, we might make it out in time." That was the thinking. I chose the wrong path, but didn't mean to Kevin also retweeted this comment from the user Matt was responding to: So you're saying that you're bad at running the business, didn't listen to any of your employees until after they were forced to leave their jobs, and now you're going to get more of the money from the Patreon that was their idea in the first place? Matt's Response: Respectfully, I made a mistake delaying the patreon decision. But keeping a comedy site alive for 9 years is not easy, there are lots of potential ideas, and think overall we've done a good and honorable job. Will leave this thread in peace now to allow people their space.

Sorry for linking to Elon's hellsite (derogatory), but sources need links so...

#video games #patreon #hard drive #ai critical

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idyllicwillowtree · 2 months

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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing

Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1:

Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.

“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”

“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.

“Are you talking about the photo?”

“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”

“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.”

“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.

“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile.

Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously.

“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.

Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.

“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.

You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.

Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile.

Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”

“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”

“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.

“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”

You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy.

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

“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.

“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.

“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.

“No-”

“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.

Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink.

“Gross,” Dustin added.

Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.

“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change.

Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.

The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you.

That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.

He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.

Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there.

With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”

“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”

“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”

“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense.

The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.

"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried."

It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile.

“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.

“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.

“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”

You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.

The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.

His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.

“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile.

This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.

You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.

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

Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.

You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”

Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct.

“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.

You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.

“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

Part 2

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sugarnspice630 · 5 months

Text

Dark Room - Wooyoung

"Working these late shifts with you has only made that urge grow, and I can’t contain my thoughts about you anymore."

•pairing: photographer!wooyoung x fem!photographer!reader

•word count: 1.9k

•tags: mdni, nonidol, dark room sex, wooyoung and reader are photographers, sensory deprivation(?), praise, fingering, wooyoung and reader have secretly liked each other for a long time, dirty talk, slight choking, ...did I miss anything?

Summary: Wooyoung and you work late shift at a photography studio and things gets a little risque in the dark room.

A/N: Inspired by my job honestly. Had this fantasy while working late one day and thought..mm yes Wooyoung would do this. I would like to preface that the dark room where I work is NOT the traditional, red lit, dark room. It's literally pitch black when you shut the door. Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

“Ah shit,” You curse out as you see the message on one of the printer computers. “Wooyoung, can you grab a Color Developer chemical for me? I need to change paper real quick, and my hands are kinda full!” Softly shouting from across the studio in hopes he could hear you from his desk.

“Yeah, I got it Y/N!”

“Awesome! Thank you!”

Both you and Wooyoung have been working the late shift at your photography job for a couple weeks now. You’ve been behind on processing orders because you were understaffed or everyone else had kids to take care of and had to be home by a certain time. This year has been crazy for school and sports pictures; taking on more schools and leagues, needing to train the new hires that only stay about a month and then leave, managing two printers that constantly need either paper changed or chemicals added to the bins, or the printer deciding to eat the photographs, causing you to have to reprint them—it was hell. You and Wooyoung however, were the perfect combination to take on night shifts! Naturally being night owls, not having kids to take care of, and working well together, you got more done than anyone else in the office could from their 7-3 shift. Hell, for the amount of work you do, you should be getting a raise or double pay, but alas, your boss doesn’t think that way.

Taking the empty paper cartridge back to the dark room, you snuck back out and browsed the shelf for the correct roll of paper, grabbing it before you turned around. You snuck a glance at Wooyoung grabbing the chemical off the shelf just down the hall. You shot him a quick smile before going into the room. Setting the paper down on the ground and moving the chair close to the wall so you could get a feel of your surroundings before entering complete darkness. The seal on the door wasn’t the best, so slamming it was the only way to ensure no light would get into the room. You flipped the lightswitch off and sat down in the chair.

While opening the paper case, you couldn’t help but think of the way Wooyoung’s long, black hair framed his face perfectly, when his bangs would occasionally get in his eyes, and the way he would tossle his head to move the pieces out of his way. Sometimes, when it was hot outside on a sports shoot, he would tie it up into a cute ponytail with such ease. The way he interacted with kids while on shoots, seeing his childlike nature come out and the kids getting along with him, was great. It absolutely melted your heart to see him so good with the kids. Always getting the best smiles out of them and staying on schedule while making the kids feel comfortable. On the opposite side of the spectrum, he really knew how to run the show. The way his voice commanded all the other employees on the job, telling them exactly what to do and making sure they were doing everything correctly. He hated to see people getting yelled at for taking “bad” photographs, but really it’s just the head photographer having a stick up his ass and being hard on everyone else while he does the same level of work, so he just wanted to make sure he appeased everyone.

Being in your own head, thinking about Wooyoung while changing the paper, you hear three knocks on the door.

“Helloooo? Y/N? You alright in there? Did you get swallowed by the dark abyss?” Wooyoung’s voice rang out from the other side.

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself. “N-No Wooyoung, I’m fine and perfectly alive! I just uh..had trouble closing the…lid.” You faked slamming the “lid” shut to make your statement seem believable.

“Oh gotcha, yeah, that thing is a bitch sometimes. Well, could you hurry up? I haven’t been able to finish the chemical cause I have to grab water and well uh…you’re in the room with the sink.”

“Oh right! Sorry!” You scrambled to clean the area up, almost forgetting there is a giant box in front of you and hitting your foot against the top of it, causing you to almost fall forward onto the door handle, but you caught your balance just in time. You pick up the cartridge and set it on the chair you were just sitting in to make room to open the door. You grabbed the handle, slowly turned it, and pulled the door towards you, hoping not to scare Wooyoung. You peaked your head around the side of the door and smiled.

“She’s all your’s~!” You stepped into the light and looked at Wooyoung to see his hands were empty and not carrying the water jugs. Your eyebrows contorted. “Uh.. your hands are empt-.” Your words were cut off by Wooyoung pushing you back into the room, grabbing the door from your hands, and slamming it behind him. The darkness of the room settled in, and you felt uneasy, not knowing where Wooyoung was. “W-Woo?”

“I’m right here~.” He said lowly and you felt his breath against the side of your neck. His hands softly trailing down your side and stopping right above your waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You protested and tried to squirm your way out of his grasp. His grasp on you only tightened as he had no intention of letting you go.

“Y/N I can’t help myself. Ever since the first time I saw you, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Working these late shifts with you has only made that urge grow, and I can’t contain my thoughts about you anymore.” You felt your cheeks get hot and your thighs clench together. Did he really think about you this way?

“W-Wooyoung..” Your voice trailed off, not knowing how to feel about his confession.

“I think about you every night before I go to bed. Perhaps in ways that I…shouldn’t, but you’re just so beautiful.” Wooyoung brushes the stray hairs off your face and tucks them behind your ear. His breath feels warm against you and sends chills down your spine. You feel Wooyoung lean closer to you and his lips are right against your ear. “I touch myself to the thought of you. My name coming out of those precious lips of yours. I want you so bad Y/N. Please.”

“Fuck.” You mutter softly. His hands playfully sliding up and down your waist. You couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of Wooyoung thinking about you this way.

“If I may have your permission, Y/N.” You softly nodded your head, allowing him to touch you in whatever way he wanted to. “I can’t see you love; I need you to use your words for me.”

“Y-yes Wooyoung…please.” You beg, and not a moment later, Wooyoung is kissing down your neck, occasionally nipping at your skin, causing you to groan. You tilt your head back so it is resting on his right shoulder. The feeling of his lips against your neck is intoxicating and you couldn’t get enough. He continues to kiss and suck at your neck, making sure to mark you up nice and pretty. A few kisses later, he grabs your hips, giving you a heads-up.

“Turn around baby.” His hands allow you to spin in place, not leaving your side and once you are fully turned around, he places them back onto your hips and you feel him lean into you again. Your lips search for his through the darkness, bumping into his cheek accidentally, and you let out a soft giggle. Soon your lips meet and you are passionately making out in the dark. His hands continue to feel up and down your body, one hand snaking its way to your ass and he grips it harshly. A soft moan leaves your mouth into the kiss. You feel Wooyoung’s lips form a smirk and he continues to grip onto your ass.

“You like that, huh?”

“Fuck, y-yes I do~.” You pant out, slightly out of breath. Wooyoung’s other hand, not playing with your ass, begins to toy its way down your waistband and slips through down to your underwear. His fingers tease the wet patch in your underwear that has been forming since he slammed the door, causing you to moan and tilt your head back against the door.

“So wet for me already babygirl~. You’ve wanted this to happen for a while, haven’t you?” You can only moan in response, his fingers pressing into you and you hear Wooyoung groan softly, his hips rutting against your thigh as he fingers you. “Making me so…fuck…fucking hard.”

“Woo..p-please stop teasing m-me. I need you.”

“As you wish~.” He wastes no time pushing your underwear to the side and slipping his fingers inside you.

“Fuck!” You cry out. His fingers stretching you more than your own or any toy ever has. You bite your lip and grind against his hand.

“H-Holy shit you do need me.” He chuckles at your body reacting this way to him. You’re absolutely driving him insane. “Wish I could see that pretty face of yours. Watch your face as I fuck you nice and good with my fingers.”

“W-Wooyoung~.” The dirty talk was getting you to your climax faster than you thought. His voice ringing through your ear like a melody you wanted to listen to on repeat forever.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re taking them so well.” You can’t see his face, but the way that sentence came out sounded like he was gritting his teeth together. You could feel your head spinning and you knew you were close to your release.

“Wooyoung, I-.” Your words are cut off by a moan slipping from your throat. “I need your hand on my neck.”

“Ho hoh~ kinky are we~? I always knew you were a whore.” Wooyoung quickly takes the hand that was playing with your ass and grabs your neck—not too hard, applying just enough pressure that you were seeing static.

“Y-Yes! Just like that.” You manage to choke out and feel the knot forming in your stomach. Your pussy clenches around Wooyoung’s fingers.

“Want you to cum on my fingers princess. I know you can do it.” Wooyoung’s demanding encouragement was all you needed to hear for the knot in your stomach to release. Wooyoung’s grip on your neck lessens, and a string of curses mixed with his name come out of your mouth. "Fuck, you sound so beautiful. Exactly how I pictured it.” Wooyoung pulls his hand out of your pants and kisses your lips gently.

“W-Wooyoung~.” Your voice is no louder than a whisper.

“Sshhh sh sh darling, I know~. Take your time recovering.” Wooyoung caresses the side of your face and wraps his other hand around your waist. He gently moves you out of the way and opens the door slowly, letting the light from the hallway come in, and you squint your eyes from being in the dark for so long. Wooyoung turns around and looks at you. "Fuck, you’re gorgeous even after your insides get rearranged by my hand.” You softly chuckle at his remark and lift your hand to swat at his shoulder.

“Not my fault; you know your way around~.”

“Guess working these late shifts together helped me get to know you better~.” A soft smile forms on his face. You feel yourself blush, and you shy away from looking at him. “Come on. Let’s get back to business.” He offers his hand for you to grab and you gladly take it. He walks you out of the room and down the hallway into the main area of the building.

“So…you working tomorrow~?” You ask playfully.

“I most definitely will be if you’re here.”

“Always.”

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armpirate · 9 months

Text

I hate how bad I want you || Choi San

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

pairing: Choi San x fem!reader || Boss x employee

w.c.: 2.5k

Warnings: Suggestive, making out

Summary: You hated your new boss with your guts. The mere thought of being around him made you lose it. Or so you thought until you saw a side of him, and yourself that you didn't know of.

You loved your job. You genuinely did. When you graduated, you thought you’d have an awful position in a small company that’d kick your ass after a few months. But unlike your low expectations, everything turned up quite well for you. Of course working as a secretary, when you studied Business Administration, wasn’t the ideal, but for that moment, it was perfect. It was a job that helped you pay the bills -after you were stubborn enough to leave your parents’ house- and allowed you to save some money, your colleagues were great -you ended up befriending most people in the office-, and your boss was awesome. Mr. Choi would always try to be a resource of help for everyone in the company, especially for you. Although you were his secretary, he always tried to show you how upper positions worked, and what tasks they had. Kind of as if he were preparing you for any promotion that could come your way.

The job was perfect.

Or at least it was before there were some changes, and your position was the first one to suffer a change. While others were transferred to a different area, or directly to a different office, you stayed in the same place -which you thought was great, because your building was only twenty minutes away from your home, by bus. The only difference? Your boss. You went from assisting Mr. Choi, to be his son’s secretary as he was going to join the company after graduating.

At first, it didn’t bother you. You’d lie if you said you didn’t like the change. San caught your attention the first day he set foot out of the elevator, walking around like he owned the place while his hands were hidden inside the pocket of his gray thick long coat. Just like the rest of the girls in the office, you were part of the group that were drooling over him -except that you did it in secret, instead of being as open as them about it. Mainly, because you were his secretary, and you wanted to keep your job.

But as time went by, all that attraction started being replaced by annoyance and disgust. You didn’t want to say out loud that you hated him -because it was such a strong word-, but thinking about having to see his face every time you looked up, because he insisted on you being aware whenever he needed something, made you think of calling in sick every morning. Sometimes you’d even think about quitting.

Okay, maybe you did hate him. But it was justified.

You lost count of the amount of times he fucked up since he started working there, which have been only three or four months. And that wasn’t even the worst part. The problem was that he’d always blame it on you. If he forgot about a meeting, it was because you didn’t schedule it properly -and not because he didn’t check. If he sent an email to the wrong person, it was because your calligraphy was barely readable on those post-its.

Every day there was a new problem. And, with it, a new excuse to back it up. The problem with that was that he made you look useless and clumsy, and that could affect you during the evaluations at the end of the year. And, unlike him, you needed the good results to stay in the company and be able to pay all the expenses that came from living -basically.

You got there earlier -as usual. You’d get there almost half an hour before the office started welcoming your colleagues, so you’d have plenty of time to get everything ready, surrounded by silence and calmness.

Thirty minutes later, some people started coming in, barely muttering a low “Hello” if they happened to walk past your desk, a way of greeting that really contrasted with your friend’s, Yana, who would sing out loud while resting her weight near the corner.

“How did your weekend go?” but she didn’t want to know about the several tasks you did back home, or how you argued with your landlady -who wanted to increase your rent out of nowhere. Yana was asking about something more interesting, more juicy.

“It was okay” you shrugged.

The date was fine, the guy was friendly… but there was no chemistry. Talking to the technician that repaired the printers was almost the same, which was disappointing. Because you genuinely thought there was something going on when you both flirted non-stop in the office.

“Just okay?” she sighed disappointed, standing next to you while she waited for a better explanation.

“Yeah” you nodded, but you knew it wasn’t over.

“Did you invite him to check your cave?” the way she referred to sex made you cringe, moving uncomfortably on the spot. The lack of an answer made Yana insist “A kiss?” she frowned.

But before you could tell her that wasn’t the place nor the moment to talk about that, your new boss made sure to let her know. After making sure Yana flinched enough to stand up, San walked over his desk. His attitude was so weird. Usually, when sitting there, he’d always throw a sided smile at you, and you guessed it was because he knew you hated it. But today he sat there, with his eyebrows frowned while his eyes were lost on his own desk.

Not like you cared though. If that was a sign that it’d be a calm day for you, you weren’t going to complain. You saw him placing his glasses properly, reaching out to one of the papers so he could read it.

Looking at him right now, you couldn’t deny the sex appeal he had. His harsh factions made him a man that was easy to slip your eyes to. Way too easy. The problem came up when he interrupted his silence to open his mouth.

The sound of a notification in your computer made you go back to reality, moving your eyes away from him to focus on the screen in front of you.

Mr. Choi: Did you get everything ready for my meeting?

You: Yes, the samples are on the small table behind you, and I already emailed you the presentation.

You didn’t need an answer from him to know whether he got it or not, it was enough with lifting your eyes again to see San turning on his chair to pick up all the bound samples and leave them on his desk.

“Hey, Y/n” another voice got you to finally move your eyes away from your boss. Marshall was looking at you with a smile “I really enjoyed the other night”.

Did he? You made your biggest effort not to frown and show how you didn’t feel the same way. Instead, you tried to match his energy, smiling and nodding, and even lying saying you two should repeat it any time.

Another notification from your computer interrupted your chat, making you turn to it momentarily to find out that -not surprisingly- your boss sent you a new message.

Mr. Choi: Get ready. You’re attending the meeting, too.

You avoided looking up to San, because you were sure that if you did, the first reaction from you would be showing him your middle finger. You had scheduled an interesting workshop regarding leadership, that was planned by his father, and you wouldn’t be able to attend because your new boss was dumb enough to not be able to do shit by himself. If he had told you earlier, you’d have registered on the one that took place in the afternoon instead, before the inscriptions closed.

“Ready?” you heard his voice over you, while you saw his gray suit behind your computer. “Also, Marshall, don’t you have something to do?” you looked up to the two men, seeing an expression from San that made you want to punch him. It was that arrogant look you knew too well.

“Yeah, I’m attending the meeting in five minutes as well” he let him know with a smile.

That answer was something San didn’t expect, and his reaction was curious to you. Because why was he frowning, and clenching his jaw over his employees doing their job?

Too late to backtrack on his decision of having you there, San just waited for you to follow him to the big meeting room.

San’s attention during the meeting kept shifting to you, seeing how Marshall and you kept exchanging smiles and looks every once in a while. It shouldn’t bother him the way it did, but there he was, trying his best not to throw that man off the window for earning those accomplice gazes from you.

“Break time” you heard his voice sentence. Looking up to him, you found him twisting his jaw while tilting his head.

You didn’t know what bothered him, and it wasn’t like you cared either. Honestly, you were grateful for that break, because your body was craving some coffee before being able to keep up with taking notes constantly. “Not you, Y/n” he said, as soon as he saw your attempt to walk to the door.

Giving you an empathetic smile, Marshall just left the room, while the rest of the attendees also left the room and closed the door behind them. And you just stood there, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted from you, or what he wanted to change in five minutes and that’d put you in a tough position.

“I see you laughing a lot with Marshall” he mentioned, without even looking at you.

You couldn’t describe your face at that moment. Both eyebrows arched, surprised by that comment, but also confused by the nature of it. Sure you were paying attention to what was being said, but you were only there to take notes, which you did. It wasn’t your fault that he read the slides you prepared, instead of coming up with something to make it more dynamic.

“In case you forgot, we’re in the middle of a meeting” he raised one of his eyebrows over the frame of his black glasses.

You scoffed, not believing you were receiving a lecture about professionalism from the least appropriate person for it.

“You have something to say?” he asked, finally getting up from his chair and walking over to you.

You wished you were able to bite your tongue, to form a tie with it so it wouldn’t spill more than it should. But you were so fed up with him, that having San lecturing you about your work made you reply back without giving it a second thought “Quite funny how you’re the one calling this out, as if you hadn’t done worse”.

San tilted his head, with a sided smile forming on his face before he spoke “Difference is that I’m your boss, and you’re my secretary. I can make as many mistakes as I want, you can’t”. By the way he arched his eyebrows, you knew he wasn’t done.

“So talking with a coworker is a mistake now?” you tried to do your best not to laugh in his face.

“It is if it distracts me” he stepped closer.

“For fuck’s sake, you get distracted by a fly. How is that my problem?” It was after exclaiming that, that you were finally aware of how close you two were. You could perfectly see the way his skin wrinkled on his frown, and could feel his heavy and thick breathing making some of your locks move.

San analyzed your burning gaze, eyes dropping to your plump lips, before he gave in to his wild instincts. His lips captured yours in a rough way, trying to suck into your lower lip as if that would refrain you from pushing him away.

A wet sound flew between you two when your hands, pressed against his chest, forced him to step back and break the kiss. You were ready to slap his face and leave the room, but something in the way he looked, how his lips were parted for more, built some type of electricity inside of you that clouded your judgment. Because you weren’t seeing your annoying boss anymore, you were seeing a sexy man that was giving you the most shameless of looks with his foxy eyes through his lenses.

Your tongue clicked, scolding yourself for your thoughts, but also working as a sign of where you lost your mind. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him to you so you’d be able to link your lips together again. His arms instantly moved around your waist, making sure your bodies were glued together.

You were impressed. Completely surprised by the fact that a two second kiss did more for you than a two hour date. And, to top it all, all your senses went numb because of your boss, instead of everyone’s crush. But instead of fighting all your awakening needs, you just let yourself go, lost in the kiss that made your head turn in circles and turned your knees weak as jelly.

Just like the entitled asshole he was, he dug inside your mouth without a previous warning, earning a gasp when his tongue pushed yours. You held onto his blazer when his hands started pulling your pencil skirt up, folding it until it barely covered your ass. His hands grabbed it, and you couldn’t understand it, but feeling his growing bulge against your stomach woke up something that you didn’t know you felt about your boss.

His fingers moved lower, confidently traveling down your legs until they got to your inner thighs while his thumbs still pressed tight over your ass cheeks. One move from his whole body, and he already got you lifted over the crystal table with your legs wrapped around his thin waist.

Your body reacted to every kiss and every move of his tongue, to his fingers rubbing all over your thighs to spread them wider so he could fit better -and, especially, to the dangerous situation you both were in.

“I could fuck you right here and now” his raspy voice felt like the most torturous caress in your ear. “, but I’ve already been unprofessional enough, according to you”.

Confused by his words, you felt his hands dragging your thong down your legs. And instead of being filled with anything that came from him, you felt the cold air hitting your sensitive spot when he stepped back. “Now go and tell everyone to come back inside”.

You tried to reach for your underwear, but his hand was quicker, moving it away before you were able to even touch it. Any hope of having them again disappeared when he saved them inside one of his pockets. “Are you fucking crazy? Give them back”

“Take it as a punishment for being way too friendly with Marshall all up in my noses” he said, walking back to his seat to act as if nothing had happened between you two.

Nothing could describe the anger you were feeling, and how you were ready to break each one of the laptops in his head. But you tried to keep your cool, placing your skirt like it was supposed to -thanking god its length was under the knee, so it was easier for you to hide the fact that you were wearing no underwear.

You swore one of those days you’d kill him, and there was no way you’d feel bad in the slightest.

#ff #smut #one shot #reader insert #san #choi san #san smut #ateez #choisanxreader #sanxreader #armpirate

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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year

Note

Andy Herrera x DeLuca! sister reader. Carina brings her sister to the firehouse and they both secretly fall for each other. Then one day Andy gets hurt on the job and after she is released from the hospital she goes and confesses her feelings to the reader. After secretly dating for about six months the two are caught kissing by both Maya and Carina who both freak out but are happy for the two. Fluffy and angsty, please?

All you need is love

Summary: Meeting your best friend’s girlfriend’s sister.

Pairing: Andy Herrera x DeLuca!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1494

a/n: can we talk about how underrated Andy is in her own show??

masterlists | guidelines

Looking around the downstairs of the firehouse, Y/N has an impressed look on her face as she nods. “Your girlfriend is the captain of this place?” She peeks into the barn where the firetrucks are located, letting out a small ooh sound.

“Yes.” Carina laughs, her brows raised as she stares at her younger sister. “You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” She shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant, but Carina knows her sister.

Grabbing her arm, Carina starts leading her upstairs. “Let’s go, they’re cooking dinner and we’re joining them.”

Y/N gasps. “Is this one of those situations where your girlfriend tries to make a good impression on me, because you won’t date someone who doesn’t get along with me?” The words come out quickly, at times stumbling over them.

“No.”

“It totally is.”

With a sigh, Carina rolls her eyes. It is that kind of situation. She just doesn’t want to feed Y/N’s ego by letting her know how valuable her opinion is to her. But she knows.

When they walk into the kitchen, Y/N notices Carina’s girlfriend stiffing a pot, having seen a picture of her, but she isn’t the one who takes her attention. A brunette setting the table is. It’s like she can’t take her eyes off of her.

“Carina!” Maya exclaims when she notices them. “You’re here early.” She turns off the stove and walks over to the two, wiping her palms to her pants first.

“Our shift ended early.” Carina kisses her before pulling her near Y/N. “This is Y/N, my sister. This is Maya, my girlfriend.”

“Hi!” Smiling, Y/N shakes Maya’s hand. “Nice to finally meet the famous Captain Maya Bishop. Carina talks about you all the time. Maya is so hot. Maya is so muscular. Look at this picture of h-”

“Y/N!” Carina slaps the back of her head. Giggling, she steps away from Carina’s reach, rubbing the spot she got slapped on. “Behave.”

She rolls her eyes. Maya looks between the two, not sure how she should react to the two sisters. “Uh, it’s great to meet you too.” She points behind her, where the rest of the team is, introducing everyone to Y/N. They all wave and smile, saying their his, but Andy walks up to them.

“Hi!” She shakes Y/N’s hand. “You’re doctor too?” Andy looks at the white doctor’s coat she is wearing.

“Yes, I didn’t want to be the family disappointment by not becoming a doctor.” Carina glares at her, but Y/N ignores her. “I’m in general.”

“Awesome.”

The two stand a little bit too close to each other for someone who just met each other, but the others pay no mind to it. They just finish cooking the food and gather around the table, immeasurable bombarding Y/N with questions.

She answers to them to the best of her ability, though most of her attention is on Andy.

Humming quietly to herself, Y/N looks through the patient files on the tablet. She keeps glancing at her phone, frowning when there’s no new notifications. Her and Andy have been texting nonstop ever since they met, but now, Andy hasn’t answered to her in hours. Usually it doesn’t take her that long even if she’s working.

With a sigh, Y/N pockets her phone and sets the tablet down to a table. She has a surgery in half an hour, but until then there’s really nothing to do.

“Y/N!”

She turns towards the sound, her brows furrowing once she notices Andy walking towards her. “What are you doing here?” She meets her halfway. “Did something happen?”

“There was an accident during a call, but I-“

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s eyes start going up and down Andy’s body, looking for any significant injuries. She has a bandaid near her eye, but nothing else catches her attention.

“I’m okay. I wanted to see y-“

Y/N interrupts her once again, “are you sure? Did you already see someone? I can page someone over.” She takes out her pager, but Andy grabs her hands.

“Y/N, I’m okay. I wanted to see you, because I need to tell you something.” Nodding, Y/N stays quiet, giving her the space to talk. “I have feelings for you,” she starts, her voice quieter now, “and I would really like to take you out on a date.”

A big smile appears on Y/N’s face. “That’d be nice.”

“Okay, great.” Andy nods, smiling too. They look like two lovesick fools in the middle of the hospital hallway. “I’ll pick you up today at eight?” She raises one of her brows. “Wear something casual.”

“Got it.” Grabbing the tablet again, Y/N starts backing up slowly. “I have a surgery to go to, but I’ll see you today.”

Andy waves with a grin before walking away, feeling victorious.

Knocking on the door frame, Y/N walks into the locker room. “Hi, mi cara.” She smiles when Andy turns around.

“Hey,” she walks over to her and grabs her hand, pulling her deeper into the room to kiss her, “I am so happy to see you here.” Andy grins, moving them towards the rest room.

Y/N giggles. “I’m happy to be here,” she kicks the door closed once they’re inside the room, “the others have already gone home?”

“Yeah,” she kisses her, “we have all the time we need.” Pulling away momentarily, Andy pulls the doctor’s coat off of Y/N. “You look incredibly hot in your scrubs.” She eyes her body up and down.

“Even when I’m all hot and sweaty?”

“Even then.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N pushes Andy to sit down on the bed before getting on top of her, draping her arms over her shoulders. “You look very hot in your work clothes too.” She mumbles, going back to kissing her.

Andy grabs the sides of her waist so she wouldn’t fall. Y/N’s hands are about to go down to the hem of Andy’s shirt, but the sound of the door opening interrupts them.

“Y/N?”

Their heads snap towards the now open door, where Maya and Carina are standing, both shocked to see them together.

“Carina!” Y/N struggles to get up from Andy’s lap. “What- what are you doing here?” Andy stands up as well, her eyes wide. Truth to be told, she’s kind of scared of the Italian, especially now that she walked in on them making out.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing?” Her hands start moving in the air. “Since when have you two been together?”

They glance at each other. “Like, six months.”

“Wh-“ Carina groans, throwing her hands in the air while mumbling in Italian, which makes Y/N scrunch up her face. “Six months and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Y/N shrugs, “sorry, there was never really a right time, so, you know,” she glances at Andy, trying to come up with some kind of explanation, “it just never came up.”

Carina has her arms crossed over her chest and her face is in a deadpan look. Maya has a tightlipped smile on her face, “well, I’m happy for you two.” She turns to look at Carina, her brows raised.

With a sigh, Carina walks over to hug Y/N and Andy. “I’m happy too, but you are supposed to tell me things.” She points at Y/N once she has backed away from them, giving Maya room to hug them both.

“I’m not ten anymore.” Y/N smiles, holding Andy’s hand.

“You’re still younger.”

She sighs, but nods, there’s no use to fighting Carina. “We were about to go out to eat, do you want to join us? Or did we interrupt something?” Maya smirks, looking at the jacket still laying on the ground.

“Maya!” Carina looks at her with wide eyes. “That’s my sister.”

“Oh, shut up, you had a study on orgasms.” Y/N picks up her jacket and puts it on. “We’ll join you, but I think we have to change first.” She looks at Maya and Carina’s nice, fancy clothes before turning to her and Andy’s work clothes that they’re still wearing.

“We’ll wait for you in the car,” Maya states while they step out of the room, “don’t take too long!” The door closes.

Andy turns to Y/N. “That’s one way for them to find out.” Laughing, she grabs Y/N’s hips. “I’m guessing you’re borrowing some of my clothes?” She mumbles and smiles when Y/N nods. “I love to see you in my clothes.”

“Don’t start anything now.” Y/N raises her brows, pulling away from Andy to go to her locker and grab some of her extra clothes from there.

“After dinner?”

“Definitely.” She kisses Andy and winks at her, before going to the bathroom to change her clothes, leaving Andy to the locker room with a grin.

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irondad-and-spiderson · 2 months

Note

Hi! Sorry to bother, idk if you take asks like this (if you don't feel free to ignore!) but do you know any good fics where SI employees bully/threaten/mistreat Peter and Tony comes to the rescue? Thank you so much for your time 💙💙

Hi! I absolutely do! I might just take forever to respond and take your prompt a little loosely 😃 The three under the cut are employees with (valid) security concerns. I know there are more that I can’t find, so anyone feel free to add some 😉

A Big Security Issue by FotiBrit

When Peter lost his Stark Industries Staff ID, Tony handed the kid his own. That was never an issue, until Peter had to check in at the front desk.

The Cusp of a Breath by SpaceCowboysFromMars

“That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Peter says as he and Tony make their way into the crowd. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, cringing when he remembers how much the suit costs.

“You got shot on patrol last month.”

“This was worse.”

Or; Peter is introduced as the official heir of Stark Industries, but not everyone is completely welcoming of his presence. Luckily, he has a pretty awesome mentor to keep him on track.

the love (and other things) you inherit by ironfidus

“Which is why,” Catherine says, unblinking, as delicately as she can, “the board requires that you name a successor in the event of your untimely demise. The risk has simply become too great for us to ignore.”

Tony Stark’s spent a large portion of his life thinking about legacy: his legacy, his company’s, Iron Man’s. He’s spent a lot of time fighting to protect his legacy, too. But today, with a lawyer as his witness and FRIDAY as his one-AI cheerleading squad, he stops, takes a step back, and lets go instead—because for the first time, his legacy isn’t about him, not really.

And as FRIDAY would say: it’s about damn time.

Alternatively: Tony updates his will and gets himself an heir, Peter gets a promotion (for lack of a better word), and the rest of the world gets a wake-up call—in that order. Ft. an impatient board of directors, a Stark Industries charity gala, and a universe in which Tony Stark gets to be happy.

Security Bias by Sara (ctrsara)

Happy Hogan asks Daren Anderson to help him out with a little project.

My take on idk-bruh-20's irondad fic ideas #128: Fic where, after a security incident in which some bozo accused Peter of trespassing at Stark Tower, Happy holds an emergency briefing for the entire SI security team.

The topic of the briefing? The absolutely untouchable, vital-to-know-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job level of importance of one Peter Parker.

Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited by kingdomfaraway

While Leroy didn’t like gossip, he wasn’t immune to it and he’d heard about a young boy claiming to be Tony Stark’s intern showing up randomly throughout the building. He just figured it was some random mystery, a Stark Industries cryptid if you will.

Never did he think he’d have a sighting.

“Are you Peter Parker?” Leroy questioned, narrowing his eyes at the young boy, looking for any signs of deceit.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, hi!” Possibly Fabled Intern Peter Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge and lanyard, this one with his face on it and INTERN written underneath it. “Mr. Stark got me a badge so I can get nachos whenever I want.”

Chapter 1 of 200 Park Avenue (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara)

Peter hasn't seen Mr. Stark, or been able to go out as Spider-man since he turned down his invitation to join the Avengers a few weeks ago. He ends up at Stark Tower rather randomly, finding an unlikely hero in Mr. Stark's AI, then keeps returning for different purposes.

The first chapter is a short I did for Comfortember 2022 that I've just kept thinking about. I'm building on that story and creating a 5+1 to explore the new dynamic (post-Homecoming) in another way.

5 Times Peter Visited Stark Tower and 1 Time He Stayed

Home by patrochilles_trash ((it’s less angsty than it sounds))

Tony had been out of the country for weeks on SI business, and Peter was having a hard time. He missed him, plain and simple.

Okay. Maybe not so plain and simple.

Peter had a rough time in the weeks and months that followed the final defeat of Thanos in the ruins of the Compound. Thrust back into life, only to be forced to fight for the lives of the entire universe for the second time at only sixteen-years-old, and then to be told that his last living relative died in a crash during his five year absence did wonders for his psyche.

He developed a nasty form of separation anxiety toward his mentor-turned-adoptive-father -- not that Tony fared much better himself -- and his therapist had said it was a side effect of PTSD and that it would get better over time.

A small field trip fic to SI where Tony has been out of the country for a few weeks, and Peter isn't handling it well.

Don't be fooled. This garbage fluff to avoid my other fics that I'm writing

#ask #fanfiction #iron dad #tony stark #spider son #peter parker #fic rec #answered

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autisticlancemcclain · 11 months

Text

“Simulation complete.”

The first Black Paladin turns to his team, smiling widely. “Great job, everyone! That’s the highest level we’ve managed so far!”

The rest of team Voltron turn to each other to celebrate, cheering and high-fiving, smiling all around.

“Your new axe is amazing,” Keith informs Allura, clapping her shoulder. She grins at him, and then holds her bayard in front of her appreciatively, admiring it.

“I was, wasn’t I.”

She spins it in a show of skill, bright blue shine of it catching on the bright training room lights.

“Everyone did really well,” Shiro agrees. He faces to each of the paladins in turn, complimenting them in turn. “Keith, your reflexes were wicked fast today. You definitely shaved at least five full minutes off our time.” Keith preens, pleased. Pidge and Hunk roll their eyes in tandem, and they advance on him at the same time, play-wrestling him to the ground.

“Someone needs to humble you, Dropout!” Pidge yells teasingly.

“Never!” Keith shouts, wiggling out of Hunk’s chokehold.

Shiro snorts, walking over to separate them before things get out of hand. “Alright, alright, you three. Pidge and Hunk, you two did awesome as well. I won’t pretend to understand what that new gizmo that you made does, but it was really cool.”

Hunk and Pidge both beam at the same time.

“Thanks, Shiro!”

“Yeah!”

“And you, Lance.” Shiro turns to the final paladin, smiling warmly. He’s lying flat on the ground, slightly away from the rest of them. “None of us had to watch our own backs even once. Our Sharpshooter had us the whole time, huh?”

Without looking up, Lance lifts the hand not resting on his chest, forming a thumbs-up. “Yep,” he says weakly.

The rest of the team frown at each other. Coran steps away from his place on the wall, setting down the clipboard he was using to take notes.

“Lance, dear?” he asks, concerned. “Is everything all right?”

“Peachy!” Lance says quickly. He tries to sit up, and manages, but it’s obvious that it took way more effort than it’s meant to. He’s wheezing slightly, breaths quick and shallow. “Just — tired, man. Keith ran us through all those wicked drills beforehand, and the training was intense. You know how it is.”

Keith’s brow furrows. “They weren’t…that bad,” he says slowly. He’s not even trying to get a rise out of the Blue Paladin; his voice is one of genuine confusion. “No worse than usual.”

Lance waves a dismissive hand. His other attempts to find a comfortable resting place somewhere on his chest area, moving from his sternum to his left pec to just above his waist before he gives up, setting it slowly on the ground. “I’m just tired, I guess. Haven’t been sleeping super well.”

The team all exchange looks, again. They all know about Lance’s insomnia, the nights he spends on the observation deck, painfully homesick and unable to force himself asleep. They have a schedule, for it. It was Allura’s turn to keep a half-eye on Lance yesterday evening, make sure he went to bed. She was excited about it and had them do facemasks and watch a movie together before finally heading their separate ways around midnight. If Lance really was struggling to sleep last night, he went to great lengths to conceal it.

Pidge takes a couple steps forward, the first of them to move. She sits next to his extended legs, her own legs bent in a W — a bad habit she’s yet to break — and plays with her glasses. She watches him carefully, but he avoids her gaze, looking pointedly at his lap.

“You can come to us, you know,” she says hesitantly. “I mean, I come to you all the time when I’m homesick. And you’re always nagging me about a sleep schedule, mom.” She punches him teasingly on the shoulder, intentionally very gentle, but Lance still inhales sharply, trying to disguise it last-minute as a cough.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Keith snaps. “Something’s wrong. Out with it, Lance, or I swear to God —”

“There’s nothing wrong, Mullet,” Lance snaps right back. “So how about you keep your nose out of my business —”

“Well how about you quit being a stubborn dumbass and tell people when you’re hurt —”

“I’m not hurt! And who are you calling stubborn, Mr I’m Gonna Run After Lotor Even Though My Entire Team Is Begging Me Not To —”

“At least I didn’t pretend I didn’t have a fever until it got bad enough that I collapsed right into my goo at a diplomatic dinner!”

“At least I didn’t train myself into heat exhaustion!”

“At least I didn’t —”

“Both of you!” Shiro shouts, making the two of them freeze. “That’s enough!”

The second he’s done speaking, both paladins point aggressively at each other, yelling: “He’s not listening to me!”

Or, well, Keith does. Lance tries, but the sudden movement of his left arm makes him shout in pain. He tries to cut it off, dropping his hand back down, but the damage is done.

“Shit, Lance, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean — are you okay — ” Keith rushes over to Lance, tripping over himself in his haste and very nearly crashing into him. Lance swats him away as he gets close, insisting he’s fine.

“Go away, Keith, I’m fine, I appreciate your concern but —”

In his attempt to twist away, he bends his torso strangely, causing another half-strangled shout of pain to come from his throat.

“Okay, no, this isn’t happening,” Hunk snaps. Before anyone can react, and before Lance can stop him, he rips open his fanny pack, yanking out a smooth white cylinder and pointing it in Lance’s direction. It beeps once, then shoots a wide, blue beam of light onto Lance, scanning him from head to toe.

“Several injuries located,” the device reads. “Ready to list and suggest treatment.”

Six pairs of eyes whip towards the Blue Paladin, varying from disappointed to scared to furious. For a moment Lance’s expression is open, shocked, deer-in-headlights, and then it shutters, replaced with something determined and endlessly, endlessly stubborn.

“I’m fine,” he insists. “If anyone comes any closer I’m going to throw a hissy fit.”

“You’re already throwing a hissy fit,” Allura points out. “When normal people are injured, they just get treated.”

Lance sets his jaw. “I’m already treated.”

Keith scowls. “Well, obviously not, because you’re hurt. Dickhead.” He reaches forward and tugs on Lance’s jacket, clearly meaning to take it off to assess further damage, but Lance hisses at him, snapping his jaw.

“Are you a fucking scorned chihuahua?” Keith demands, snatching his hand back.

“Put your hands on me again and find out.”

Before Keith can argue any further, Hunk plops down in front of them, pressing the scanner’s button again so a loud beep rings through the room.

“Listing injuries and assessment now,” it says. “Injured person: young human adult. Injuries: newly broken rib. Heavy bruising around chest area. Set and healing sprain around left shoulder joint, previously dislocated. Deep laceration on right thigh, early stages of healing. Joint abnormality in left knee. Several small wounds in mouth, inside of cheek and lower lip. Minor hearing damage, old injury. Minor brain damage, old injury. Highly elevated heart rate. Shallow breathing.” The machine pauses for a moment. Six pairs of eyes now stare at Lance in shock, jaws dropped.

Lance shifts, and if possible his jaw sets further, chin raised stubbornly and brown eyes hard and defiant.

The machine prompts again. “Proceed with treatment suggestions?”

No one speaks.

“Shut down, Scanner 6X427,” Lance says.

“Shutting down,” the scanner responds pleasantly. It beeps one more time and then grows cold in Hunk’s hand.

Everyone erupts at the same time. There’s so much panicked yelling that it kind of all amalgamates into the sound of three crowded rooms, all voices competing with another, u til eventually it settles into: “Holy shit, we need to get you to a pod!”

“Not happening,” Lance says firmly. “You can’t make me.”

“Um, yes I can,” Keith says. “As the Black Paladin, I order you to go to a pod right fucking now.”

“Seconded,” Shiro says, eyes narrowed. “That’s double Black Paladin orders.”

Lance shrugs. “As the Red Paladin, I say no, and also piss off, just as a little extra treat.”

“Lance, get in a fucking pod or so help me God,” Hunk says through grit teeth. “I will carry you out, you little shit.”

Hunk’s threat seems to shake some of the irritating calmness from Lance’s frame, and his voice gets a little angrier, a little more desperate.

“Well it’s going to be a struggle and a fucking half for you, because I’m not going in that fucking death trap conscious!”

“Lance, you’re really hurt!” Pidge cries. Frustrated and angry tears have started to drip down her face. “You’re scaring me! Get in the fucking pod!”

Shiro and Coran are so worried that neither of them correct her on her language, as they often do almost reflectively.

“I’m afraid no medical attention is not an option, child,” Coran says, firm. “You know the rules as well as I.”

“The rules don’t say jack shit about a pod,” Lance says harshly.

Keith blinks at that, flinching a little in shock. Lance is — Keith is well versed in Lance’s volatility. As much as they love and rely on each other, they’re both very stubborn, and still fall into the occasional screaming match. Lance also ends up arguing with everyone else on the team, really, as people living in close quarters tend to do; with Pidge about her sleeping habits, Hunk about working himself to exhaustion, Allura about her reckless tendency to self-sacrifice when it’s not necessary — those fights are always particularly hard to witness, because Lance is right, but he of all people can’t get angry at her for it — and Shiro’s stubborn insistence that he comes last. About stupid shit, too, although usually much less angry; dirty dishes left on the counter; chore schedules ignored, outside clothes on the bed.

But Keith has never, not once in their three years in space, heard Lance raise his voice at Coran. In fact Coran is usually the one that Lance listens to without question, the one he trusts to know more than he does in every subject. Lance may roll his eyes and groan about things, but he has never outright refused. Coran has his best interests at the forefront of his mind, something he’s made abundantly clear.

But Lance has just snapped at him. And while some guilt bleeds into his eyes, none of the stubbornness leaves his expression.

Coran looks hurt, but his voice is still firm. “I’m not asking, Lance.”

It’s a rare thing to have Coran use Lance’s real name.

A tear drops from the corner of Lance’s eye. His chin trembles. “And I’m not going.” His voice wobbles; begging, almost, desperate, instead of the angry tone it had before. “I’m not.”

“Everyone stop,” Allura says. “Pidge, Keith, move.” Her voice is not rude, but leaves no room for argument. Both paladins follow her instructions immediately, scrambling back. Allura kneels in their place, right next to the Red Paladin, and places a gentle hand on his. She squeezes.

“What’s going on?” she asks, in a creole of Altean and Cuban Spanish. “This isn’t a trick. I’m not going to move you, or force you to go anywhere. Talk to me like you make me talk to you when I’m upset. Why this reaction?”

Lance’s face crumples. It’s slow, like he’s fighting with all he has to stop it, to keep his face blank or at the very least hard, but it doesn’t work; tears fill his eyes and overflow rapidly, and his breath hitches in his throat, and then again, and his shoulders shake and his hands tremble and he starts to sob.

“I won’t go in a pod,” he says. “Please. Please don’t make me. I don’t want to get stuck again. There’s no internal release, I checked the manuals, and when they defect sometimes they get sucked down into storage and they stay down there and no one would hear me and the BLIP reader wouldn’t find me ‘cause of the radiation reinforcement in the walls and I’d suffocate and die and I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t do it I’ll die I’ll suffocate I won’t be able to breathe —”

His already shallow breaths get even shallower, and soon he genuinely can’t breathe, wheezing, panic making his limbs flail slightly and his pupils to shrink down to pinpricks. Allura is the first to react, close as she is, firmly grasping both of his shoulders and straightening his neck to keep his airway open.

“Lance, you need to breathe through your nose,” she orders. “Close your mouth. Now. Yes, that’s it. Through your nose, okay? Like that. Exactly. Now purse your lips and exhale slowly out your mouth. Yes, perfect. Keep doing that. Do it with me. See how I’m doing it?” She breathes exaggeratedly, indicating for him to follow. “Good, good. Just like that. Keep going, asteraki. You’re doing great.”

Carefully so as to not crowd them, Keith sits on Lance’s other side, reaching forward and squeezing his ankle. Pidge follows suite, and then the rest of the team; sitting in a poorly-formed semicircle around their friend and teammate, chiming in with Allura with encouragement.

This is not their first panic attack, and it won’t be their last. Although this one was one they all could have prevented, as evidenced by the guilty way they look at each other.

Finally Lance begins to calm down, breaths evening out to a steady hiccuping, tears slowed to a trickle instead of a stream. Hunk digs in his fanny pack to hand Lance a tissue, but Lance grasps Hunk’s hand instead. Hunk smiles, tangling their hands together and keeping them that way, regardless of the awkward position and the strain on his arm.

“I dressed them,” Lance says, when he finally has his voice back. It’s hoarse, but earnest, pleading, almost.

“Dressed what?” Coran asks carefully. Out of all of them, he feels the heaviest guilt; knowing the role he plays for Lance means this was something he should have noticed first, not left for Allura to handle. It makes sense that she did — her own debilitating homesickness and depression means that she and Lance spend quite a lot of time with each other at their worst — but he still knows the paladin, knows him well, and he has the experience to identify that kind of fear. He has no excuse for failing to do so.

“All the injuries,” Lance answers. “I didn’t — I wasn’t ignoring them. I dislocated my shoulder two weeks ago, so I put it back into place with one of the x-ray machines to help and kept it stable for a while.”

“Is that why you kept stealing my hoodies?” Hunk asks quietly.

“Yes.” Lance smiles slightly. “And because I like them.”

Hunk snorts, smiling back despite himself. “Yeah, bud, I’m well aware. I’d say I want them back, but you can keep them for now.”

“Nice. I should get hurt more often.”

“Not funny,” each of them says immediately.

Lance winces. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, the rest of them are handled, too. I took a spear to the leg when I was training a few days ago, so I fixed it and stitched it myself. It was fine and it’s healing nicely and it’s not even a little bit infected,” Lance says to Pidge, who opens her mouth to protest. His insistence calms her a little.

“If you say so.”

“I do. I’ve given myself stitches lots before, don’t worry.”

“That is very worrying,” Shiro says. “All of us could help you with stitches, Lance.”

“You’d make me go in the pod,” Lance points out. “And none of my injuries are primary emergencies. I worked at the Garrison clinic for five years, and trust me when I tell you the staff there took student help way too seriously. Half of them straight up slept for their whole shifts. I know how to handle myself.”

“Some of that stuff is fine,” Keith admits. He’s been guilty of setting his own strains and pulled muscles so he can keep training. “I know you hurt your knee when we were doing that sim a couple months ago and putting a brace on was fine, we checked.” He hesitates. “But that other stuff sounds pretty serious, Lance. Numerous mouth wounds? Hearing loss? Brain damage?” He throws up his hands, frustrated. “That’s bad!”

“The mouth wounds are just me biting the inside of my mouth,” Lance explains. “That’s not even a real injury. I’ve been doing that my whole life. I’m never not done that. As for the other stuff…” He trails off, looking at his lap.

“From the Sendak explosion,” Coran says quietly. “Permanent damage.”

“But we’d know about that,” Pidge argues. “The pod says all that kind of stuff when the person comes out. It didn’t say any of that stuff for Lance. He was fine!”

Keith’s face goes white. “None of us were there.” As he says it the rest of them go pale, too, remembering that day. “We were — God, we were arguing about something stupid. I don’t even remember. Did you…”

“I caught myself before I fell,” Lance says, correctly guessing what Keith is too horrified to say. “I wasn’t — I’m not mad, guys. I don’t expect everyone to have just stayed waiting around a guy who most of you barely knew, at that point, in a medically induced coma. Besides, we were busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Hunk says. He’s started to cry, now, dark eyes blurry with tears and nose running. “I’m so sorry, Lance. I didn’t — I should have been there to catch you.”

“I promise you I’m over a thing that happened four years ago,” Lance says drily.

Allura pinches his ear. He yelps.

“Hey! No pinching the brain damaged person!”

“Not funny,” she says, although her mouth twitches. “And accept our apology, you jerk. I know it’s been eating at you. You’re a Leo and you told me that that means you hold grudges for a thousand years.”

“I regret teaching you astrology,” Lance mumbles. He is visibly relieved. “But, fine. Apology accepted, you bunch of goobers. Can we forget this happened, now?”

“Absolutely not,” Shiro says. “You still have hearing loss and brain damage. And a broken rib! I won’t force you into a pod, but we need to figure something out, kiddo.”

“Eh.” Lance waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve had two of the three for four years, now, so I barely even notice them anymore. The hearing loss isn’t that bad, plus I’ve always had audio processing disorder so I know how to read lips and I’m used to asking people to repeat themselves a bajillion times. And I’m pretty sure the brain damage thing just means I get more migraines than usual, which I already know how to deal with because of the ‘tism. The broken rib —” He falters. “Well, the broken rib doesn’t look great for me, but there’s no cure for that anyway. You’re just supposed to wait it out until it heals itself, basically, and the scanner thing didn’t say anything about a punctured lung so I’m good.”

“How you humans have managed to stay alive as long as you have astounds me,” Allura mutters.

“Fair,” all five humans say at the same time.

Lance moves to get up, swiping his cheeks to wipe away the tears. “Are we good now?” he asks hopefully. “Lancey-Lance is secretly a medical genius, all mistakes have been forgiven, we can go do literally anything else? Food would be great. I don’t know about you people but personally, being vulnerable makes me horribly famished.”

“Sit down, dear,” Coran says, steadying a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Alteans have better medical equipment, you remember. Not everything is a pod, they’re simply faster.” He turns to Pidge and Hunk. “I need the two of you to get the bone stitcher from the MedBay. Allura, go with them, the label is in a dialect of Altean they haven’t yet learnt, they’ll need your help to get it. It’s also quite heavy and quite high up.”

They nod and scurry off.

“What can I do, Coran?” Shiro asks.

“Get him his headphones and some water,” he suggests. “It’s been a lot of stimuli for one varga.”

“On it.”

“I can get my own shit,” Lance grumbles. “I don’t want people digging through my stuff.”

“Get up and I’m going to dislocated your other shoulder,” Keith threatens, half-joking. “Stop being a dweeb about needed help. It makes you look like a straight guy.”

Lance opens his mouth and then closes it again. “I hate when you use my words against me. It’s three quarters of the reason you’re irritating.”

“Shut up,” Keith says pleasantly.

They’re both grinning. Coran shakes his head at the two of them, knowing he will likely never understand their relationship.

The rest of the team comes back quickly, and they work together to set Lance’s rib, get him hydrated, move the mood into something lighter. They all head to dinner when he’s stable, eating their goo in exhausted but comfortable silence.

Tomorrow, Coran will have Lance run through some brain scans to make sure everything is as alright as it seems. Tomorrow, Pidge and Hunk will start working on a pair of hearing aids. Tomorrow, Keith will insist on helping Lance change the bandages on his leg wound; red to his hairline but stubborn and steady and gentle. Tomorrow, Shiro will sit with Lance on the observation deck, and they will discover that both of their mothers are nurses, and they will laugh about ridiculous ER stories they’ve heard. Tomorrow, Allura will help Lance bedazzle his knee brace as obnoxiously as they can.

Tomorrow, they will fix things. Tomorrow they will make things right.

But for now, they sit, and they eat, and they enjoy each other’s company and take great relief in the knowledge that their Blue and Red Paladin is truly, possibly for the first time in years, safe.

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featherandferns · 11 months

Text

'shut up' (fic)

300 followers special! thank you!!!!

jj maybank x fem!kook!shy!reader | the music the band plays in this are songs by beach bunny (that's the music style i envisioned for the reader) - check them out!

a fascinating new thing spin-off celebration fic for 300 followers (per this and this request haha)

content warning: drinking; anxiety

word count: 3k.

Blurb: it's been a month since the moment on the hammock. JJ calls you 'baby' like it's the most natural thing. But some things have been left unsaid. Maybe one night, at Pansy's, where things seemingly started, one of you will kick up the nerves...

Ironic, how the first time you played at The Wreck you actively avoided JJ Maybank’s gaze. Now you seek it out. Whenever you feel the stage-fright creep up on you like a spider stalking in the night, you dart your eyes across the small but ever-growing crowd and find your boyfriend. He watches you like you’re some star-studded bigshot. Like you’re Beyoncé or something, holding the stage and audience in your palm. It does something to your stomach, still, after the month the two of you have been officially together. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to having JJ look at you that way, so clearly and unapologetic. If you’ll ever get used to having the knowledge that he knows the songs are about him.

So, as you sing the closing lyrics to the final song of the set, you can’t seem to break away from his gaze. You know your friends will tease you both about it later, and that whilst you’ll shrivel up under the light-hearted scrutiny like a prune, JJ will grin and bask in the attention. The two of you seem to equal out the scales.

“Suddenly, everything is easy. I’ve never felt something so deeply. Cause with you, with you, I breathe again. Baby you’re my oxygen.”

When you and Pansy harmonise for the fade-out, you finally pull your focus from JJ’s smiling face. Instead, you smile at your bandmate and best friend. Bob your head along to the steady beat of the drums as the song ties off to a close.

The crowd breaks into applause. Cheers and whoops and hollers triumphing over claps that make you laugh into the microphone.

“Thank you,” you grin.

There it is again. Your eyes falling onto JJ and his on you; opposite sides of the magnet, attracting. He nods at you, proud, and you feel your grin turn mushy, teeth sinking into your lower lip in a failing attempt to restrain it. Damn him.

“Thanks for being a great crowd, guys! We’re The Wallflowers! Buy our shit!” Pansy shouts gleefully.

Routine as always: the lights flick on, the microphones disconnect, the Reggae playlist kicks up, and the crowd tumbles into conversation, pours over their drinks, perhaps filter out the doors. The Pogues wander up to the stage as Mike shrugs off his bass and Pansy her guitar.

“You guys were dope,” John B grins from below the small stage.

“Like always,” Pansy winks at him.

“I’m liking the new stuff,” Kiara smiles at you.

“Thanks! I’m trying to mix things up a bit more,” you say.

JJ’s holding out his hand for you to take. You use his help to jump down from the stage, standing by his side. Try your best not to retreat when he leans down to kiss you in front of everyone. It’s not that you don’t want him to you; it just still feels somewhat surreal that he wants to, and does so, freely.

“We still hanging out at yours, Pansy?” John B wonders.

“Mhm. Empty house kids,” she grins. “Sides, we need to celebrate our new drummer who did a fucking awesome job tonight.”

As if on cue, Xander wanders across the stage from where they’d been hiding behind the drumkit. They grin down at everyone, their brow piercing catching the light of the restaurant and twinkling.

“You’re already killing it,” Kiara says.

“Yeah, way better than the last guy,” JJ adds.

You elbow him. The look that you flash him, however, tells him that you’re not mad.

Benny had quit the band not long after you and JJ became a thing. Things were already messy from the fight at the fair and the tone was forever changed. It was obvious that yourself and Pansy were honouree Pogues now and that if Benny couldn’t pull his head from out of his ass (Pansy’s words, not yours) then there’s no room for him in the band anymore. The two of you had talked about what went down. It was awkward and uncomfortable and painful, to look at someone who you once saw as an irreplaceable friend and now only recognise as a decent drummer. Benny confessed that staying in the band with you, knowing he couldn’t be with you, would be too painful. You refused to let yourself feel guilty. You wouldn’t change how things went down and selfishly, if it meant you got to keep your friends and JJ in your life, then Benny would have to slip through the cracks.

JJ’s arm slinging over your shoulder, tugging you closer to his chest, has you tuning back into the conversation again. You wrap an arm gently around his waist. His tee shirt smells of salt water and cheap cologne. It’s so wonderfully him that you have to keep from burying in it. It’s strange how a few months ago you’d almost come to peace with the fact that you’d maybe journey through life alone romantically, with nothing but good friends and music to accompany you, and now here you are, fitting so well under JJ’s hold that it’s like you were made to be there.

“So once she’s finished up there, her and a few of her friends are gonna come over. If that’s cool with you, Pansy,” Mike finishes saying. By ‘she’, he means his now official girlfriend, Tara.

“Of course! The more the merrier!”

You smile at your little group of friends. Slightly misfitting and far from what you’d expect, but perfect, nonetheless. Pansy and JJ’s effervescent energies; Kiara and Mike both laid back and argumentative at the same time; Xander’s stories that allotted perfectly with Pope’s; John B flitting in and out of conversations seamlessly, like a school of fish leisurely navigating through a sea of kelp and coral. And you, surrounded by so much love you don’t really know what to do with it.

“Ready to go, baby?”

Baby. JJ started calling you that a week after the moment on the hammock. You liked it, being someone’s baby. Being his baby.

“Mhm,” you smile up at him.

With that, you filter out the restaurant. You’d already agreed with Kiara’s dad that you’d tidy up the band stuff tomorrow morning, before opening. This was your fourth time playing there, so it was a well-made routine by now. Walking towards the cars, Kie steals you away to have you ride with herself, Pansy and Xander in the pick-up. The boys pile into the Twinkie and Mike has to duck his head hopelessly as he clambers in. Oh to be six-foot six. The conversation that comes between the four of you is light and easy, with anecdotes about school being tossed around like a volleyball on the beach. By the time you pull up to Pansy’s house, your chest aches from laughing. The guys pull up just moments later in the twinkie as you climb out the pick-up.

“You guys giving my girl laughing gas or something? She’s grinning like a mad man,” JJ hollers as he jumps out the van.

“Just finally in the presence of someone who’s funny, is all,” Pansy jabs. Your friends ‘ooh’ in return.

JJ takes your hand and the lot of you climb up the stairs to Pansy’s house. There’s an unspoken agreement to hang out near the pool. People swipe up some beer and liquor and mixers on the way. Pansy connects to the speaker and you all relax into seats and loungers. Conversations carry from the cars to the garden like driftwood on the tide. JJ practically pulls you down to sit in his lap. An arm coils around your waist comfortingly.

“This okay, baby?” he murmurs into your ear.

Your skin prickles pleasantly. Baby.

“Mhm,” you nod, looking at him. He presses a kiss against your lips, fast and fleeting.

Then the two of you are accepting red solo-cups filled with beer and smiling into the chatter. JJ gets tangled up in some heated debate, leaning forward and energetically arguing his case through a grin. His arm tightens its hold on you, though never painfully so, whenever he does. For the most part, you’re content in listening along. Nodding and laughing. Whispering jokes into JJ’s ear that you don’t quite have the nerve to toss into the group, and basking in the laughter it draws from him.

When Tara does show up, ‘a few of her friends’ ends up being nearly ten people. They’re all nice enough, smiley with drinks in hand, but they’re also all buzzed and way more extroverted than you will ever be. The pitch of the conversation rises by about three notches. It’s harder to follow along with a conversation and harder still to sit in your blissful observation position on JJ’s lap. It seems Tara’s friends are hellbent on ‘including you’ in the conversation, but their way of doing so involves grilling you with questions. They’re not rude or invasive, but you don’t like being under so many eyes, waiting on what you have to say when you don’t really have much to say at all. Instinctively, you start drawing shapes on the back of JJ’s hand that’s resting on your thigh.

“Hey,” he says, pulling your attention to him. “You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You sure? Think you’re painting a Mozart on my hand there.”

“You mean Monet,” you say.

JJ rolls his eyes. Presses a kiss to your cheek. “Smart ass.”

There’s a roaring round of laughter. You sigh and try to ease the tension that’s forming in the back of your throat. It’s so dumb. These are your friends. You’ve met Tara before and she’s lovely. A little intimidating in a could-be-a-bikini-model-six-foot-four-long-perfect-hair way, but still lovely. Her friends aren’t mean Kooks. They’re all pretty chill. They seem to be meshing well with the rest of the Pogues, too. You catch Kiara’s eyes as you scan the conversation. She frowns the moment she lays eyes on you.

‘You okay?’ she mouths.

You nod. You don’t want to be a party pooper. Everyone’s having fun, including JJ.

He squeezes your thigh, grabbing your attention once more.

“Come on,” he says, moving to stand up. You frown but shift onto your feet, with JJ in tow.

“What’s up?”

“We’re going inside for a sec,” he tells you, intertwining his fingers with yours.

“I’m fine. Really.”

JJ looks down at you. Whilst his expression doesn’t exactly change, you get this feeling that his thoughts are ‘yeah, right.’

“Well, I wanna check out this Kook mansion and I need a tour guide,” he replies.

You smile at that, despite your efforts not to. Hands interlocked, you follow JJ out of the small gathering and into the kitchen. Flush like you’re on fire at the wolf-whistle John B sends your way when you do. In both your and JJ’s spare hands are your solo cups, half full of beer. There’s a pleasant hum to your thoughts, giving everything a colourful edge almost.

“You’ve been here before, remember,” you say to him as he guides you both through the empty house. It’s almost insulting that three people live here, at most.

“Well, I spent most of it in the bathroom so—”

“Oh! Really?”

He grins down at you and you laugh.

“Wow!”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to spend it in the bathroom!”

“Mhm,” you grin, rolling your eyes. The two of you make your way up the stairs. Automatic lights flick on as you do.

“I’d rather spend the night sat with some cute Powerpuff girl than hang out with the loser Kooks downstairs,” JJ says. That has you flustered. You squeeze his hand.

“Shut up.”

“You did it again.”

“Shut up!”

JJ imitates you, shrivelling up under the compliment, and you laugh and swat at his arm. His lifelong mission to make you accept a compliment is one month in and currently unsuccessful. As you guys wander down the seemingly never-ending corridor, you remember something you and Pansy did once. With that thought, you take the lead, pulling JJ behind you as you guide the two of you into one of the may spare bedrooms. It smells a little musty, though nothing like a museum. It’s fresh must: like worn-down reed diffusers and fresh cotton that never got tainted. On the bed lies tons of winter clothes as if someone was halfway through clearing out a wardrobe.

“Where are you taking me?” JJ asks, humour light in his voice.

“To my secret spot.”

“Ooh.”

“Ooh,” you echo teasingly, flashing a smile at him over your shoulder.

Handing your cup to JJ, you pull the window open and glance out, checking you have the right room. There’s the extension’s roof, underneath, solid as a rock. Smiling, you gesture your head for him to follow and then you’re climbing onto the roof. JJ chuckles a little.

“Didn’t know I was dating spiderman, but okay.”

“You can’t tell anyone my secret identity,” you joke in reply.

You’re watching where you’re placing your feet, checking your balance. Holding out your hand for your beer, JJ passes over the cup then grunts as he clambers out to join you. The two of you settle on the roof top. It’s a starry night tonight. The universe seems as though it may stretch on for miles. Countless sparkles of light illuminate above you, basking in the absence of light pollution.

“Woah.”

“I know, right?” you smile.

JJ grins up at the sky, captured in awe. It’s adorable how boyish and young he seems when he does. Some things that mother nature does can stop anyone in their tracks: young and old, fat and thin, rich and poor. Beauty doesn’t have limits. You would know, looking at one of the most beautiful things on the planet, right before your eyes. Dirty-blonde hair brightened by natural highlights from too many hours on the water, under the sun. Crinkles by the eyes that never quite go, even when he isn’t smiling. A jawline taken from a sketchbook and a smile that can make someone fold at the knees and swoon at the heart. You take to admiring your boyfriend the same way he admires the stars.

If you told childhood you that you were now sat on top of Pansy’s roof with your school-long crush, sipping beer and watching stars, you’d send her to A&E for a stroke.

“You’re staring,” he mumbles, not drawing his eyes from the view above.

“So?”

“So,” he smiles.

“You’re my boyfriend. I’m allowed to stare, aren’t I?”

JJ’s smile takes on a little edge, like he’s proud. He glances down at you. “Like how that sounds. ‘Boyfriend’.”

You flush. “I mean, you are, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I?” he teases.

You roll your eyes and gently shove his shoulder. JJ laughs. The sound makes you smile, like a reflex.

“Shut up.”

“Might start taking a shot for every time you say that to me.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, because you can’t think of something else to say.

JJ guffaws. He slinks an arm around your waist and tugs you nearer to his side. You rest your head against his collar bone with a sigh.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you eventually say into the almost-silence. There’s the carrying sound of your friends’ chatter from below, managing its way up to the roof.

“Of course I am,” he says, teasing worn down. “Come on – thought we made that happen on the hammock.”

“Well, so did I, but we never officially said anything,” you quietly tell him.

JJ swallows. He knows what you mean. It’s impossible not to. That day went from being one of the best, to one of the worst, to one of the best days of your life. Things were left unsaid from it but things changed, nonetheless. The spot next to JJ was reserved for you; his texts became more flirtatious, more sweet, more sensitive; the two of you would kiss, whenever and wherever (something that you still can’t quite get used to); and you and JJ would spend time together with nobody else around. The ‘will you be my girlfriend?’ thing felt pointless. The ‘I love you’ thing, however, felt a little less right being left untouched.

“I gotta tell you something,” JJ says. He shifts so the two of you can meet the other’s gaze. You swallow down the nerves.

“Don’t tell me: you’ve got the clap,” you deadpan.

JJ smiles. He laughs silently, shaking his head. You still can’t believe he finds you funny. That he wants to hear your jokes more than anyone else’s.

“Not quite.”

“Gonorrhoea?”

“Shut up,” he sniggers, shaking his head.

You point a finger at him, grinning. “Aha! You said the thing!”

“You’re impossible, did you know that?”

“Nothing’s impossible if you just believe in yourself,” you hum, perhaps a little more drunk than you thought. Maybe that’s just him though. JJ tends to have that effect on you.

The only way it seems that JJ can think of shutting you up is to kiss you. You smile, slipping your hand over his atop of the grainy fabric of the roof tiles. Kissing JJ is like seeing a supernova: impossible to describe; faultless and insurmountably beautiful.

“What I was trying to tell you,” JJ says the moment his lips break from yours. Then, another kiss. “Is that” – another kiss – “I love you.”

You break apart with that, falling short of breath. You slowly open your eyes. Glance up to his, near reluctant. Wait for his jeer down to his friends or the punchline to follow, because surely – surely, he doesn’t. Could he? He’d sort of said it on the hammock, but when you pushed, he pulled away, and it made you wonder if you misinterpreted it. There’s a difference between having a thing for the quiet, weird girl and being in love with her.

Maybe all of these thoughts read easy on your face, because JJ’s half-smiling, half-frowning, and thumbing at your cheek.

“I mean it,” he quietly affirms. “I’m in love with you.”

“How do you even know that?” you whisper.

JJ smiles fully now. He shrugs. “I just do. I just…I don’t know. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I didn’t even know it.”

“Everything?”

Your quietness? Your weird sense of humour? Your awkward punchlines? Your baking? Your crocheting? Your music? Your singing? Your body? Your figure? Your face? Your smile? Your voice? Your brain?

“Everything,” he nods reassuringly.

Kisses you once more, firm and fierce, and you kiss him back. That familiar zip chimes up and down your body, lighting up your neurons and firing away at your synapses. Being told by JJ Maybank that he loves you feels akin to Gabriel declaring to Mary that she was chosen. That you’re special, and beautiful, and maybe somehow sexy. That you’re talented and wanted and funny – he thinks you’re funny. He’s taken the time to know you and to understand you. He waited for you and you waited for him. And now, here, it’s like he’s the king of your heart. Maybe you ought to crown him for showing you these colours of the world and for teaching you the language of his tongue. For changing your life in every way a person probably can.

There’s only one type of crown you can think to give.

“I love you too, JJ.”

Thanks for 300 followers everyone <;3

299 notes · View notes

tieronecrush · 11 months

Note

OKAY I SAW SOMEONE ELSE ASK THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE BUT I HAVE MY OWN TWIST.

So actor!Joel and actress!reader are on set and they have a pool table & Joel finds out that reader has never played pool before and his determined to teacher her. So Joel invites her back to his place where he has a pool table in an “entertainment” kind of room at his place. Then he’s helping reader try to play but she can’t focus with his hands on her and him up against him so after a few shots she just decides to tease him. And then just take it away from there 😫

umm this request made my brain go crazy like first of all, actor!joel?? i picture him similar to matthew mcconaughey (probably cause both are from austin lol) but like slightly a little more awkward or kind of grumpy. just not as pretty boy suave kind of southern charm man like mcconaughey but still obviously handsome and endearing. also i am a sucker for competency of any kind so joel having a skill you don’t have and wanting to teach you?? hot. tysm for requesting this from me, i had so much fun with it!

orange crush

actor!joel x actress!reader

orange crush: the weaker player is given the 5 orange ball and the break, also known as the crush. this is a handicap with the name derived from the defense of the denver broncos football team.

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

word count: 4k

warnings: au joel, actor!joel, no age mentioned, no use of y/n, use of pet names (darling, sugar, sweetness, sweet girl, baby), really bad descriptions of playing pool/billiards, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of food/eating, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk

i did not proofread cause i am feeling lazy today, so apologies for typos or bad grammar

“Cut! Let’s wrap for lunch everyone, back to shooting in an hour!”

The loud bell rings twice after the director, Nancy, calls out to everyone on set, and you immediately relax from the scene's tension and fall out of character, looking up at Joel kneeling next to you on the mattress in the middle of the soundstage. Broad shoulders lead down to muscular arms, veins popping out of his forearms as he strains to hold his weight comfortably over you. His bare chest feels strong under where your hands are still resting, your legs spread around his hips. The intimacy coordinator, Julie, starts to cross the stage, with two robes in her hands.

“Great job, guys! It all looked awesome on camera, was the choreography more comfortable for you two this time?” Julie smiles as she hands Joel his robe, his frame scooting back away from you and standing up from off the mattress. He clothes himself as you sit up from your position, taking your own dressing gown from Julie.

“Felt a lot better to me, not sure how you felt about it?” Joel’s eyes fall away from you as you dress again, his body turning full towards Julie and his large hand moving up to cradle the back of his neck. The tiny hint of awkwardness behind his body language makes a smile tug at the corners of your mouth; the man is gorgeous and confident in his acting, but the suave persona that most of his characters have doesn’t quite reach Joel. He’s endearing and so incredibly respectful, his Southern manners and caring personality have pulled you to him like a magnet.

“I think it was a lot better too. Much more…natural, I would say.”

Joel nods in agreement and Julie smiles, clapping her hands together as she looks back and forth at the two of you standing on set. After a quick conversation about small details she wants to change up for the handful of takes they want to get after lunch, all three of you part ways. You run back to your trailer to change out of the (minimal) costuming you’ve got on and into some loungewear, heading back over to grab your lunch and eat with some of the crew like you’ve been doing for the entire shoot.

Your eyes scan the room for Joel, disappointment blooming in your chest when he’s nowhere to be found. It’s not like you two had made any plans to hang out over lunch, and after what you had spent all morning doing, you figured he wanted some space to recuperate before getting back at it in an hour.

Both of you have been spending more and more time together in between scenes and after half days of filming. He’ll grab you a coffee and breakfast from craft services most mornings, hand delivering it to you while you get your makeup done, and always getting the right amount of milk and sugar. After one conversation about how much you loved Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and how Joel had never read the classic novel, you had lent him your prized and battered copy. You'd shown up to your trailer the following Monday to the whole set of Jane Austen classics with beautiful artistic designs across their clothbound covers. The copy you had let him borrow sat next to the set, and the new Pride and Prejudice he had gifted you had been pulled out of the box and laid on top, and when you flipped open the cover, you were met with an inscription Joel had left in his chicken scratch handwriting:

“I can see why you’ve always loved it. You’re Elizabeth. And I admire you ardently. - J”

How could you not have a crush on him after that?

Once you're finished eating, there’s still a generous amount of time left on lunch so you head over to the break area filled with crew members playing cards, lounging around and chatting, and even playing ping pong and pool at the tables on the far end of the room. Searching for a group to join, the royal purple Lakers shirt you saw this morning in the makeup trailer catches your eye.

Joel is leaning over the pool table, cue balanced between the knuckle of his index finger and the pad of his thumb, concentration evident in his constricted pupils and the flat line of his lips pressed together. The hand reached back on his cue pulls the wooden stick back and snaps it forward, sending the white ball rolling quickly across the table and knocking the blue-striped ball inside the corner pocket.

Meandering up to the green felt-covered table, you settle next to one of the sound guys, Phil, to watch as Joel continues his turn. He makes it look easy, sinking two more resin balls into the pockets before his last shot misses by a few centimeters.

Joel’s focus breaks as he lifts his gaze from the surface and holds the cue vertically, head turning towards Phil to say something when he notices you standing there. A smile stretches his mouth to one side, boots shuffling along the concrete floor as he traipses up to you.

“I have to say, those were some impressive skills there, Joel.” He laughs softly and leans on one hip, holding the stick out to the side as it rests on the floor.

“Why thank you, sugar. Could’ve aimed a bit better at that last shot, but I think my angle was off in the first place so I don’t think I was gettin’ it in no matter what I tried.”

“I have no idea what you mean, so I’m just gonna smile and nod like I understand.” Your head moves up and down, and Joel gives you a playfully quizzical look.

“You’ve never played pool, like ever? Not even tryin’ one shot?” You give him a shrug, eyes pulling away from his to watch as Phil sinks one of his shots.

“Never. Didn’t have a table growing up and never had the chance to learn. I barely understand the basic rules, like why do you put them all in the triangle thing and how do you decide who’s the stripes or the fully colored ones?”

“Well, it’s pretty easy to pick up,” Joel glances at his watch and then looks back at you, your eyes meeting his as he addresses you, “We don’t have much time left on lunch, but I’ve got a table at my place if you’d wanna come by after filming tonight to learn.”

“Oh, no it’s alright. You don’t have to go out of your way to teach me the game, Joel. You should relax and enjoy the night off tonight.”

His lips quirk up in a boyish grin, head shaking as he hits the cue against the ground as if he were announcing a proclamation.

“I insist. I wanna teach you. Plus, what if the next big role you’re up for is for some femme fatale professional pool player? You would definitely need to know at least the basics to get the part.” That makes you laugh, picturing whatever ridiculous movie that would be a part of. Before you can get nervous about the thought of it being only the two of you at his house, the PA announces over the loudspeakers that you and Joel are being called back to set in the next ten minutes. You can feel a flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you match his smile, doing your best to hide the nervous excitement you’re feeling.

“Alright, Mr. Miller. I’ll come by tonight. How’s eight o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect, darlin’. I’ll send you my address.”

Joel is all over his house. Not physically, but you can see and hear and smell him around you as you make your way into the basement behind him, drink that he made you in hand, and listen to him answer your questions about when he moved into the house in the hills.

A worn chestnut leather couch filled with navy blue and rich maroon red throw pillows takes up most of the seating area. You’re surprised by how soft all of his furnishings are, the touches of mid-century modern with eclectic patterns across the whole place with a Turkish rug across the floor and hints of his Texan background in his art decorating the wall and coffee table books on the glass surface.

It feels like a home.

And it’s immediately comfortable, feeling like you’ve spent hours or days of your life here despite it being the first time.

His pool table is a deep wood, burgundy felt covering the playing surface. It’s a much more modern shape than most tables you’ve seen before, fitting in seamlessly with the rest of the basement.

Joel sets his glass of whiskey down, crossing the room to grab a cue off of the holder on the wall. A small cube of blue chalk sits in his large hand as he comes back to you, trading your drink for the chalk.

“You want to rub the chalk on the end of the cue, keeps it from slipping against the surface of the ball.” He places your drink next to his and steps to the side of you as you both settle at the edge of the table helping you to get the pool stick into position.

His hands cover yours as he instructs you on how to place your hands and fingers to balance the cue for a good shot, leaning back but placing his palm on your lower back as his deep timbre vibrates in your eardrum and sends goosebumps down your spine.

“So you’ve got it all lined up now, does this position feel good to you?”

You nearly joke at the question, your mind pulling you to a completely different scenario. With a hem, you clear your throat and nod, using all of your power to make your voice come out cool and collected.

“Yeah, feels good.”

“Alright then, sugar, give it a shot. Just aim towards the center to break, and then we can take it from there.”

You can still feel him close behind you as you pull the cue back with one hand, forcing it forward and watching as it strikes the solid white ball. Rolling across the table, it makes a knocking sound against the resin of the yellow number one ball. The rest of the triangle falls apart, sending each piece of the game in all directions. You stand up, grinning happily at the results, and feel Joel’s chest against your shoulders.

He steps back a few inches to look down at you, mirroring your expression with a glint of pride in his eyes.

“Great job, darlin’. Seems like you might be a natural at this.”

You’re tempted to make a “that’s what she said joke” to break the tension building in the air, but any words get caught in your throat at the feeling of Joel’s warm hand resting against your waist. He turns you back to the table, mapping out each possible shot you could take to decide whether you’d take the solids or stripes. You go with whatever shot he said last, your brain not computing anything else but his proximity and the smell of his cologne filling your nose. Cedarwood, cypress, patchouli, and vetiver mix together, wafting off of his skin and smelling of summer. All you want to do at the moment is bury your head in his neck, taking in the scent of his cologne with his musk and pressing soft kisses at the corner of his jaw.

Thoughts babble on about him, half listening to him as he explains the game and helps you with each shot that you make. Heat flows off of him, his calloused fingers from playing guitar brush against your exposed arms in your short sleeve blouse, gently manipulating you into place.

Every touch ripples more adrenaline through your limbs, head lost in the clouds as you imagine him bending you into positions for a different reason.

After a few more shots, fully distracted in your mind, you decide that you’ve had enough of being the only one out of focus. It was so easy for him to get you worked up while teaching you, but wouldn’t it be just as simple to do the same for him as the student?

In the next shot that Joel is teaching you, his hands fall to your hips to angle them closer to the table. You take the opportunity to bend a few inches forward, seemingly reaching to stretch your arm on the table without using your elbow like he had taught you only about fifteen minutes prior. The bend of your spine swings your hips back more, pressing your ass against his thighs and the crotch of his jeans.

“Basically, you’ll want to-to, um,” Joel trips on his words at the contact, letting out a quiet exhale before continuing, “You want to aim the cue to the right side of the ball to spin it and get it to curve towards the left.”

You feign understanding with a nod, using your years of drama training to act confused. You move the cue way too much to the right, looking back over your shoulder at Joel with doe eyes.

God, you hate that you’re acting dumb to tease him, but it’s what you can think of to keep his hands on you.

“Like this?”

His lips press together in a straight line, eyes avoiding yours as he shakes his head. Stepping out from behind you, he moves to your side and touches the cue instead of your hands to move it to the correct placement.

You take the shot, the spin of the ball too fast and charts off course to hit against the wall. Your back straightens as you stand up, looking at him next to you.

“Maybe it would help to see you do it?”

“Sure, darlin’.” Joel’s lips curl up into a soft smirk, taking the stick from you and setting up the shot for himself. You press in behind him, leaning to look over his shoulder at his form. Fingertips ghost up his spine, splaying out to wrap around the nape of his neck to support yourself. Your chest is pushed against his muscular back, and your free hand slides from his shoulder down his bicep to rest in the crease of his elbow.

A smirk finds your lips as you hear Joel huff out a sigh quietly, easily taking his shot and sinking the ball in the pocket.

Joel stands back up, and your hands stay on him for a second, dropping to take the cue back from him but instead of handing it back to you, he lays it across the table.

“You don’t wanna play anymore?”

Joel leans a hip against the edge of the playing surface, head shaking back and forth as he locks his gaze with yours. His eyes are darker than you’ve seen them before, a confident composure across his relaxed features. He doesn’t say anything more, and you stutter to fill the silence.

“Well, um, should I head out? I know we have an early call time tomorrow so I totally get it if you wanna get some sleep.”

Joel stands up straight, broad frame taking up your vision as he closes the gap between the two of you. One of his hands goes to your cheek, thumbing skating across your skin and your eyes flutter closed at the touch.

“I don’t want you to go, sugar. And I don’t think you wanna leave either. Am I right?”

A thick swallow echoes in your ears when you nod, eyes opening again to fasten with his.

“Yes.”

“And I think, maybe, you want me to kiss you as much as I want to kiss you. Is that right, too?”

“Maybe. I want you to kiss me, but I don’t know how much you wanna kiss me, so I can’t confirm or deny that thought.”

Joel smirks and chuckles softly, eyes rolling playfully.

“Always contesting.”

“Yeah, but you like it.”

It’s your turn to smirk, leaning your head into his expansive palm. He tilts your head back to look up at him more, a glimmer of lust in his eyes, and his head moving closer by inches to ghost his lips over yours.

“I do. I like everything about you,” the Texan drawl weaves into his words, a rustic rasp in his voice that floods your core.

Before you can respond, your bottom lip is caught between his in a light kiss.

After a few seconds, he pulls away and you chase after him, connecting in a deeper kiss with him. Your hands find his chest, one slipping up and around his neck to hold him close. Your lips part as you inhale shortly, and Joel takes the chance to lick into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan that gets swallowed in the exchange.

Joel’s hand drops from your face, gripping your hips with his other and turning you to push you back against the pool table. His bulge is flush against you and you cant your hips against him in an attempt to release some of the growing pressure in your gut. Joel groans against your mouth, fingers notching in the waistband of your jeans, pulling his lips away and saying in between panting breaths.

“Is this alright?”

You nod quickly and grab his hands in yours, guiding them toward the button and zipper of your pants.

“More than okay, Joel.”

He takes your words and actions in stride, fingers popping the button loose and drawing down your zipper. He pushes the fabric over the swell of your ass and down your legs while you tug your shirt over your head. As Joel settles on his knees to free your ankles, your hands find the collar of his shirt and pull gently to hint at him.

Immediately, he strips out of the t-shirt he was wearing, tossing it to the side with your garments. Large hands skim across the velvety skin of your thighs, Joel’s ghostly kisses cresting waves of goosebumps. He presses his lips to your clothed mound, a shiver crawling up your spine as it arches and pushes your hips closer to him.

Joel looks up at you with a devilish grin on his face, grip shifting to the sides of your legs and working to turn you around. A hand at your lower back nudges you to bend forward to lay your front on the table’s surface, a whine falling from your lips when you feel Joel’s breath fanning across your panties that are stuck to your center with your wetness.

“Please, Joel…”

“Hmm? What, sweet girl? What do you need from me?”

His hands tease over the folds of your cunt, featherlight touches pulling soft whimpers from you. Your eyes close as you focus on the feeling of his fingers on your skin, taking a breath before answering.

“I need you to touch me. Please, baby.”

Joel hums at the pet name, pressing a kiss to one of your asscheeks before grazing his teeth over the same spot. You moan his name and he chuckles darkly from behind.

“I can do that for you, darlin’. Can I taste you too?”

“Yesyesyes. Pretty please.”

Joel works your panties from your waist, dropping them to fall to your ankles and you step one foot out of them. His hand holds one of your thighs and one of the sides of your ass, pursed lips blowing cool air against your soaked pussy.

“So pretty. Did me teaching you and having my hands on you get you dripping like this, sweetness? Naughty girl.” He smacks a light slap to your backside, using his digits to rub soothing circles into the spot as he leans between your legs and licks up from your clit to your taint, tongue pausing to slip into your entrance to tease you. A moan slips loudly from your lips, eyes screwing shut as you blindly reach to grip the edge of the table.

Joel sucks as your clit, thumb notching at your entrance. Your hips press back to feel more of him, and he lets out a groan at your need. He pulls away with a smack of his lips, biting a nip into your inner thigh.

“Taste so good, baby. Such a sweet pussy for a sweet girl.”

One of his thick fingers drags through your seam, gathering your wetness before slipping easily into your cunt. As he thrusts his digit in and out, his lips attach to your clit again, alternating between tongue-swirling circles and suckling at the spot. Whines pour from your mouth, his name the only coherent word you can speak.

A second finger glides in along with the first, stretching you further and filling you up even more. Grinding back against his face and hand, Joel’s moan vibrates against your pussy and adds to the pleasure he’s building up and up as he kneels behind you.

“Fuck, Joel, want your tongue.”

“Anything you want, sweetness.”

His fingers pull out of you, quickly being replaced with his tongue thrusting into you. Wanton moans and whines fill the room along with the squelch of your wetness against his mouth, the stubbly, patchy beard covering his chin scratching against your sensitive skin. His fingers coated in your arousal find your bud, working the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter toward your release.

“I’m close, baby, so fucking close.”

Without a response through words, Joel works you faster, free hand gripping tightly to keep you in place as you try to lean away from the intense stimulation he’s giving you. Eyes screw shut, jaw dropping with a rumbling moan of his name as you come, white spots sparking against the black of your vision.

“Such a good girl. Such pretty sounds from you, sugar. Could listen to you all night.”

His fingers are still circling languidly around your clit, his tongue swiping along your folds to collect your come. Your hips twitch in overstimulation, a hand reaching back as you straighten up, tangling with his graying locks to pull him away from you.

His chin and lips glisten in the low lighting of the basement, a dab of your wetness caught on the tip of his nose. A haze covers his eyes as he looks up at you as if you were from another world, completely pussy-drunk. Kisses are pressed delicately to the back of your thighs and you hum contently, tugging at his hair to ask him silently to stand up.

You turn as his arms wrap around your waist, hands gripping your ass to pull as close as possible. The two of you share a kiss, the taste of you all over his lips and his tongue. Pulling away, you rest back in his arms, a confession crossing your mind.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything, sugar,” Joel rasps out, squeezing the swell of your ass.

A smirk plays at your face, teeth catching your bottom lip between them before you speak.

“I know how to play. My dad started teaching me when I was like twelve. Had a table in my basement and everything.” Joel’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and after a beat of silence, a loud laugh breaks through the room and his head falls back. He laughs for a hot minute before looking back at you, a wide grin on his face.

“Are you telling me that you kind of…hustled me?”

“I mean, if you can do it for getting eaten out instead of money, then yeah, I guess I did.”

That gets him to laugh again, shaking his head as he leans down and kisses you sweetly.

“Darlin’, if that’s what you think of it as, you can hustle me any day you want.”

It’s your turn to press a kiss to his lips, pulling away with a grin.

“Well, I’ll make sure to only hustle you. Things might get awkward if I did it in the break area on set.”

“Extremely awkward. But I’m honored to be the only one to get hustled by you.”

You laugh and shake your head at his cheesiness, rolling your eyes playfully before grabbing his shirt off the ground and pulling it over your head.

“Alright, rack up, Miller. We’re playing for real. Winner gets hustled, by my definition of the word.” You send him a wink as you step over to grab a cue, watching as Joel scrambles to set up a game for the two of you.

“Oh, you’re on, sweet girl. But I hope you realize, I’m winning either way.” He smirks at you and gives you one last kiss before nodding to the table.

“You got the crush, sugar. Go for it.”

“We both have the crush, honey. That’s how we ended up here.”

tagging some peeps: @swiftispunk @joelsversion @johnwatsn @beskarandblasters @atinylittlepain @lunapascal @ladamedusoif @pedrospartner @pedgeitopascal @addictedtotlou @death-wife @wannab-urs @northernwindd @devilmademepostit @scrambledslut @pr0ximamidnight @theelishad @thetriumphantpanda @dinsdjrn @midnightswithdearkatytspb @spideysimpossiblegirl

#joel #writing #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller au #actor!joel #requests #asks

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hubristicassholefight · 8 months

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Preliminary Round: Final Fantasy

Propaganda Below cut

Alisaie

When she first shows up she's wearing matching outfits and wielding matching grimoires with her twin brother, but when she properly joins the game's main cast it becomes clear that she has swordswoman energy so incredibly strong that as a magical prodigy her chosen fighting style is "manifest sword out of aether and then hit people with it." She later simplifies this to merely wielding a sicknasty crystal rapier; As we know, fury and compassionate outrage are more powerful under when concentrated, which makes this tiny elf sword nerd a volatile pressurecooker of heroism. She's here to care about the little guy, make frustrated noises, and charge off to solve and/or cause problems, and truly what else is swordswoman energy about?

She wanted to use a sword so bad she summoned one made of pure magic, before a friend gave her an actual sword because he was worried about the toll summoning a sword made of pure magic was having on her, I love her and her brother so much. One of them is trans (they did the identical but different-gender twins thing). At one point Alisaie mopes because her and her brother didn't get new outfits when everyone else did. She then jumps off of a balcony because she saw an opportunity for adventure. Canonically doesn't like pickles on burgers (she put them on someone else's plate!! the scandal!!)

Lucia

she fights with a sword and shield— very classic paladin flavor. she’s achieved and maintained high ranking status for her combat prowess!; nobody is immune to hot lady knight especially when she is over six feet tall and in full plate armor tbh . easily the hottest defector from the evil empire in xiv. also she can pilot a big robot so that’s automatically a point in her favor imo

Mylla

She's the leader of the gladiator's guild. Gladiators are the class that use swords and shields. She kind of gets sidelined once it upgrades to the Paladin job for a bit, but then they went 'no Mylla and her guild are cooler than these idiots' and did a tournament arc

Lightning

She uses a Gunblade. A sword thats also a gun. Said to be very rare because it takes so much skill to use. Does lots of slashing and backflips. Later becomes Champion of A God and sword fights a guy for eternity. Later becomes champion of a Different god and uses lots of different swords; She is dramatic and has lots of character growth and is awesome.

Agrias

She has the class Holy Knight which enables her to use Holy Sword techniques as long as she has a sword equipped, which pretty much makes her the most powerful swordfighter your party can recruit (with the exception of Cidolfus Orlandeau, who has her skillset plus extra); You meet Agrias at the start of the game, and it's a few chapters before she joins your party permanently during which she gets quite a bit of screentime. This is significant, since Tactics lets you dismiss any character that's not the protagonist, and consequently the story is written to not assume you have any particular character in your party except for guests, meaning Agrias gets more story time than most characters that join your party.

Paine

starts out as a swordfighter with a big sword with a skull design. #girlboss; ffx-2 is a Wild Ride already but that they gave us a goth lesbian with a sword as our third party member was a great choice. i love her and also ffx-2. it's underappreciated.

Terra

Swords are one kind of weapon she can wield. Her ultimate weapon is known as Apocalypse.

Celes

She was turned into a Magitek knight by the Gestahlian Empire which she betrays. Swords are one kind of weapon she can wield. Her ultimate weapon is a sword known as Save the Queen.

#final fantasy #alisaie leveilleur #lucia goe junius #mylla swordsong #lightning farron #agrias oaks #paine #terra branford #celes chere #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy xiii #final fantasy tactics #final fantasy x 2 #final fantasy vi #poll #official #prelims #swordswoman showdown

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nogenderbee · 9 months

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Hii Bee!! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕ᴗ◕⁠)⁠ﾉ*✧

May I request the pjsk boys with a reader who has low stamina and is really bad at any kinds of sports; then on one day during PE lesson, the teacher demanded the reader's class(imagine the pjsk boys are in the same class as the reader)to run 5 laps around the school playground non-stop(means that stopping or walking to catch on some air for even 1 second aren't allowed, or else punishments like running 1 more lap are given)as a warm-up, the reader barely made it in the end due to their low stamina, not to mention that the playground is quite huge, it's about 200-300m for only 1 single lap; therefore, how would the pjsk boys help and comfort the reader afterwards(EG: giving the reader some small praises, handing the reader their own water bottle to drink since the reader's throat was burning like hell, being a wall for the reader to lean on since the reader's legs were super sore, etc)?

This is again my own experience at school rn, every PE lessons are litteral very exhausting hell to me, I hate PE lessons ngl. Btw, this idea popped up into my mind when I was running the 5 laps during PE lessons today, it was kinda silly of me to imagine the pjsk boys cheering for me whilst doing so just for comfort, lol. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)|||

If you decided to write this request, thank you so much for doing so! Have an awesome day/afternoon/night, Bee! ♡⊂⁠(^ω^)⁠つ♡

Hello! And of course! I honestly relate so it was pretty nice to write~ Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as I did ^^

Akito, Toya, Tsukasa, Rui with reader who's low stamina

TagList: @bleachtheidiot @yulikesminori @miya-akane @coffeeykhs @alicewinter @indi-has-fallen @vodka-glrl

⊱ when task was given, Akito probably argued with teacher a bit. Not necessarily with anger in angry tone but he tried to get at least one lap less! If he succeeds then good for you and he'll definitely be proud for a long time! If not, you only heard him mutter few curses while passing you

"That... ugh... well whatever, I tried. Don't worry tho, we'll get it."

⊱ during running, he probably kept you company or ran a little bit beside you to hopefully make it a bit better for you but he won't admit to it

⊱ he also wanted to make sure no oke throws their few cents about your low stamina so he was usually passing everyone that passed by you

⊱ he won't talk with you and will tell you to not talk yourself as to not get tired too quickly, but he may start telling you few stories when he sees you're out of it

⊱ and when it's finally over, he'll pat your shoulder and give you your or if you forgot yours then he'll give you his water bottle

"Hey, good job there. It was one of a hella big step. How about we go for pancakes after school, hm?"

⊱ Toya immidietly knew you'll struggle theoguh this task and he hated the thought of it... so of course he decided to stay close to you if you won't mind

⊱ he also tells you to run slowly and in your own peace, after all there's no tempo in which you need to run, you just can't stop

"We can run slowly. Task is to run set number of laps, not to run at specific peace."

⊱ during running, he'll drop small compliment every loop or maybe even a bit more often sometimes

⊱ he's not good at talking so he'll just run about next to you and make sure you won't faint on spot next to him

⊱ as soon as you finish 5 laps, he'll just pick you up and carry you to the closest bench where he passes you water bottle

"You did really great job, Y/N. I knew you could do this."

⊱ after school, he probably offers to carry you either way at least for few minutes to make sure your legs won't hurt too bad tomorrow

⊱ let's be honest, Tsukasa is the type to make whole drama to teacher about it and put on his acting skills for a challange if it means he can make your life a bit better

⊱ but when his plan fails... he thinks of many ways to make it better for you... and that's when he finds the moment when teacher turns around and immidietly takes you ok piggy back ride so you can have at least one lap less!

"Listener quick! We have a second so jump on my back and I'll carry you for at least a lap!"

⊱ but if you're running on your own and there's no way for teacher to turn around, he'll literally give you the best motivating lines he could think of on the spot

⊱ and when you're finally done, you can be sure he'll literally carry you bridal style while absolutely spoiling you with compliments

"My star! That was truly magnificent show! I believe we should celebrate our victory in our favorite spot!"

⊱ and after classes, he's literally ready to carry you for the whole day just to make it a bit easier for you after this big step

⊱ Rui just knew how much you didn't wanted to go through this so of course he tied convincing you to make up some excuse if you don't want to participate in those classes

⊱ bur if it doesn't work and you have to go through this classes, he'll try to be there and cheee you up!

⊱ he also makes few notes to himself and will definitely try to taking of some inventing that could help you with this problem

"Hmm... if I make something similar to my invention 0084 but adjust- oh don't worry, I was just lost in my thoughts for a second there!"

⊱ after you did it, he'll gently pat your shoulder and compliment how well you did there, just to ask if you want some cold water since he'll go drop by shop really quick

⊱ but overally, he's just there assuring you that you did really good job!

"You did amazing job there, darling. You don't know how proud of you I am~"

⊱ be prepared because on next day you may or may not receive new invention of his~

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Alcina divorces Y/N but they eventually get back together part 2

I love this AU. Read the first part here! Let’s get into it!

The last few months had been hell. You were staying with Sal, but you were rarely home.

You took any jobs you could get. Mostly to keep your mind off things.

Once you got off from work, you went straight to the bar in the village and tried to ease the pain with booze. It didn’t help much, though.

Sal was worried about you. He tried not to pry, but he always offered to take you fishing or to watch a movie with you.

The girls would visit at least once a week, but usually more often than that. Bela always brought you fresh food from the castle and Dani would hardly let you go because she cuddled you so much.

Cass was more reserved around everybody else, but you could tell how much she missed you. The both of you would excuse yourselves to go talk privately. She told you a lot about what Alcina had been up to and it comforted you to know that she was keeping a regular schedule. You didn’t want her to be miserable like you. After all that had happened, you still loved her dearly. There would never be another person that could take her place.

On one particular visit, the girls all had mischievous glints in their eyes. You asked them what they were up to, but Dani just giggled and said they had a fantastic plan. You were worried. When the three of them put their minds to something, there was no telling what they could accomplish.

Bela told you that Alcina would be working closely with Mother Miranda on a new experiment and wouldn’t be home for several days.

You raised an eyebrow at this. Alcina rarely left the castle and in all the time you had known her, she had never spent even one night away.

“Wow, it must be important.” You said, furrowing your eyebrows.

Dani gushed and told you what the three of them had decided. “We’re going to throw a bit of a… Soiree while mother is away!” She said excitedly.

You couldn’t help but crack up. “So, you’re gonna throw a crazy party while your mom’s out of town? That’s awesome. Will there be drinking and debauchery?” You grinned.

Cass rolled her eyes. “No, Y/N. It’s not some silly little get together. It’s a masquerade ball. Everyone there will be in disguise.”

Dani nodded excitedly. “Yeah! And there will be beautiful girls there, Y/N. We’ve invited pretty much the whole village! You have to come!” She begged.

You blushed at the idea of the girls trying to set you up with other women. “B-but! I don’t even have a costume, and I bet I can’t get out of work!” You spluttered in embarrassment.

Bela shushed you. “What part of ‘we invited the whole village’ did you not understand? Besides, we’ve already got something for you to wear.” She says and turns to hand you a sleek black outfit and mask.

Your eyes widen at just how much thought the girls had put into this. “Damn. Well, I guess I have to go, now.” You smile. This would be a fun distraction and you’d never turn down spending time with the girls.

——————————————————————————

The day of the masquerade ball arrived and you were a bit nervous. You didn’t know what to expect, but you decided you needed to suck it up and get ready anyway. You couldn’t let Bela, Cass, and Dani down.

You had to admit, the girls had done a great job of finding your costume. It fit like a glove. Did they commission it from Donna?

Once you put on your mask, you were ready to go. It felt kind of nice pretending to be someone else for a while.

The party was in full swing once you got to the castle and it made you feel nostalgic to be back after so long. You wished you could go back in time to fix things, but you tried your best to not get in your head and upset yourself.

You spotted Bela, Cass, and Dani in matching outfits (Of course) and went over to say hello.

Dani wolf-whistled when she saw you. “Wow, Y/N. You clean up very nicely, you know that?” She teased and immediately gave you a hug.

Cass and Bela were just relieved you showed up at all. You surprised them both by pulling them into a group hug.

You reluctantly let go of your girls and nervously scratched your head. You were worried the girls were going to get into trouble.

“You don’t think Alc-” You stopped yourself and winced. You almost said her name after all this time and it stung.

Bela gave you a sympathetic look before cupping your face. “Everything has been taken care of, Y/N. Now, go mingle. I see some women over there who look very impatient to make your acquaintance.” She said and gestured to a group of young women who were checking you out.

You blushed, but Dani gave you a gentle push and sent you on your way.

Once you were out of earshot of the girls, they quickly huddled together.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Cass asked, suddenly unsure.

Bela nodded. “Yes. Mother should arrive any minute. We just have to get her to see Y/N talking with another woman and her possessiveness should do the rest.” She said confidently.

“How are you so sure she’ll react like you say?” Dani asked her eldest sister.

“Because, Dani. If I know anything, it’s that mother is painfully jealous. And, I know she still loves Y/N. They should have never separated. They’re made for each other.” Bela concluded.

Dani giggled. “So romantic! They’re soulmates!” She exclaimed, feeling more sure of their plan.

Dancing and conversation flooded the foyer for the next half hour and made the castle come to life.

You were politely mingling with other people, but on the inside you couldn’t help but think how much more fun you would be having if the lady of the castle was there with you. She was always so good at making small talk, but you were struggling a bit.

Just as a pretty blonde from the village had finally convinced you to dance with her, the castle doors opened, revealing someone you hadn’t seen in months but couldn’t couldn’t get out of your mind since the two of you parted.

“Alcina…” You whispered.

Note: Dramatic! I’ll end this one in the next installment. Hope you enjoyed!

Masterlist

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #re8 lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #alcina dimitrescu x reader #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil imagines #lady dimitrescu x y/n #angst #angst drabble

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