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mariasont · 2 months

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can you do aaron x wife reader who also works in the bau with him & on a case a police officer openly flirts with aaron in front of the team and reader so she stakes her claim on her husband && the team ( mostly derek & pen ) are teasing the two of them for it ??

Marked Territory - A.H

A/N: AHHHHH thinking ab claiming aaron hotchner as ur man has me giggling & kicking me feet

THANK you sooooo much for requesting angel <3 hope you like it!

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

wk: 1.2k

pairings: aaron hotchner x wife!bau!fem!reader

warnings: heavy makeout, jealously

You stood a few feet away with a watchful gaze, arms locked across your chest. The consultant was laying it on thick, her eyelashes sweeping up and down in a practiced rhythm aimed at Aaron. It made you want to throw up. You couldn't help but let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff. The consultant's laughter pierced the quiet, an exaggerated display that felt out of place. Her hand rested on Aaron's arm a moment too long. Your glare could have set the room on fire, you were sure of it, and it only seemed to intensify when Aaron offered a polite, yet distant smile in return.

"Careful there, sugar," Derek joked, sliding into place beside you as he nudged your side. "You're about two seconds from turning this into a crime scene."

You offered a half-glance towards him, "I suppose I can't fault her taste," you said with a forced lightness, even as a twinge of jealously coiled tightly within you, your attention fixed on the hand that dared to claim familiarity with Aaron. "But good taste doesn't come with good sense, apparently."

Penelope swept in with a gasp that could rival a Greek chorus, her eyes wide with a feigned shock. "Wow, I could practically taste your fury from down the hall! Mrs. Hotchner, are we in strategy mode, or should I grab some popcorn?"

You rolled your eyes with a dismissive wave. "You two are ridiculous. What do you expect me to do? Drag her by her hair? Please, I trust Aaron," you stated firmly, because, well, you did. This, however, didn't stop the tiny spark of irritation that flickered within, unbidden and unwelcome, but you squashed it with a laugh. "Besides, if I started a catfight every time someone flirted with him, I'd need my own filing cabinet for all the assault charges."

A glance was all it took for Garcia and Morgan to share their amusement. "Sure, sure," Garcia drawled, her voice dripping in sarcasm.

Morgan's eyebrow arched in silent agreement as he smiled knowingly. "Of course, you're calm. But we both know if that bubble of anger pops, it's going to be one hell of a show."

You tried to ignore it; you really did. You buried your nose in your work, determined to keep your mind off that infuriating woman. You shuffled papers, dove into your case files, and tapped away at your computer with a vigor that doesn't go unnoticed by the team. Every time you caught a glimpse of Aaron, there she was--the consultant--hovering like a shadow. It's almost comical how she mirrored his every move, but you were not laughing.

You found reasons to be anywhere but where Aaron was, taking your coffee break when he's in the break room, opting for the stairs when he took the elevator. It's a dance of avoidance that has you mentally exhausted, but you're trying to channel your inner zen, and being around that woman is doing you no favors.

The office air is thick with tension, a tangible presence that envelops your desk, your focus splintering with every laugh and hushed conversation that drifts over from Aaron's direction. You're the very image of concentration until you see it--the consultant, her proximity invasive, her hand lingering on his shoulder with a familiarity that sears through your veneer of calm. It's the tripping point, the moment your restraint fractures.

You stand, a fluid motion that betrays her anger that charged the room with an energy that has the whole team's attention snapping to you. They recognize the signs--the firm line of your jaw, the fire in your eyes--a rare display that signals an unstoppable force is about to be set in motion.

"Hotch," the name is a clear, firm declaration across the room, a tone you usually reserved for the field. "Can I speak to you for a second?"

The room falls still, a collective breath held by the team as Aaron excuses himself and follows you into his office. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving just the two of you. His gaze meets yours, a furrow of worry creasing his brow as he takes in the tempest swirling in your stance.

"Honey, are you alright?" he asks, the professional facade giving way to a soft undertone of worry, as he takes a deliberate step towards you, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.

With a swift assurance of privacy, your eyes lock on the drawn blinds, and you waste no time diminishing the space between you, hands clasping up to his neck with an urgency that pulls him down to you. Your lips found his in a fervent collision, coaxing a surprised murmur from him. He softly pulled back, his chuckle deep and knowing, as his hands encircled your waist.

"Honey--I, we're in the office."

His words may have carried a hint of reprimand, but the gentle exploration of his hands across your back drawing you nearer seemed to contradict him. An innocent smile graced your lips as your fingers wove through his hair, eliciting his head tilting back in contentment. "Just missed you is all."

An eyebrow lifted in amused acknowledgement. "Mm, is that so?"

Gently tugging his head closer, your lips crashed against his with a desperate intensity, your hands gripping him as if he were a lifeline.

With deliberate strokes, you raked your fingers through his hair, creating artful disarray. Your hands glided to his tie, tugging it just enough to break the perfect line, then across his jacket, crumpling the fabric with feigned carelessness. Each touch a strategic step in enhancing his unkempt image.

A gentle exhale escaped you as he pressed you back against the desk's edge, his hands forming a cage around you, both protective and possessive. Your lips curved into a smirk, your teeth capturing his bottom lip and tugging with a teasing pressure, probably a little harder than you should have, causing him to pull back. "Christ, sweetheart."

Instinctively, your hand rose to trace his bottom lip, smoothing over the swollenness your teeth had caused. A soft smile graced your features as you took in the delightful disarray of his appearance. With a satisfied nod, you left a featherlight kiss on his cheek and glided towards the door. "I love you, Mr. Hotchner."

His eyebrows knit together in loving exasperation as he observed your retreat, his hand absentmindedly caressing his lip. God, you kept life interesting. "I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner."

Emerging from Hotch's office, your hair perfectly disordered, a small smirk etched on your lips. You watch as the consultant's eyes stretch wide, a flush of embarrassment covering her cheeks. With a sly wink tossed her way, you glide towards Penelope and Morgan.

"Well, well, well," Morgan drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded confidently over his chest. "I had a feeling those claws were just waiting for the right moment to strike."

"That's our girl! Showing the world whose boss without breaking a sweat." Penelope chirped. "Well, I mean, maybe a little sweat. I'm seriously striving not to speculate about what you two were doing in there."

A playful smirk dances on your lips as you peer over your shoulder at Hotch's door. "Just wait for it," you tease, fingers poised for the dramatic reveal as you count down. "3, 2, 1.."

Right on cue, Hotch steps out, looking every bit as ruffled as you'd intended. His tie hangs crooked, his suit crumpled, and you didn't miss the dark red tint around his bottom lip. The sound of Morgan and Penelope's laughter filled the air as you offered a nonchalant shrug.

"It's all in the day's work, besties. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner x your #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fic

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uzurakis · 7 days

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BLUELOCK REQS HERE!! Hehe how about (any characters you want) and what cute pet names reader and them use for each other and how they react when they first used it? Hope you have a great day!!

THEIR ENDEARMENTS FOR YOU?

featuring: itoshi rin. itoshi sae. michael kaiser. ryusei shidou. mikage reo. bachira meguru. isagi yoichi.

n. first time writing for the boys and i went overboard with 7 charas (i usually only write 4) and i could write more than this but it took every reflex in my body to stop myself. i might want to rewrite the rin one a separate full drabble in some short time ahead. thank you for the req sweetie, i hope you also have a great day/night >3<

ITOSHI RIN. you blinked, taken aback for some reason by the surprising nickname. a beaming grin appeared on your face as you made the decision to take advantage of the moment. “baby?” you repeated, teasing every piece of him. “since when did you start calling me that, rinnie?”

he rolled his eyes, clearly flustered. “don’t call me that,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. but you leaned closer, unable to resist teasing him further. “aww, does baby rinnie not like his new nickname?” you cooed, batting your eyelashes playfully.

rin’s eyes narrowed, and he huffed in annoyance. “fine, i’ll call you dumbass instead,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. it has come to a conclusion that you two will never stop pestering each other.

RYUSEI SHIDOU. "damn, sexy mama, lookin’ good," he called out, and before you could react, he grabbed the belt holes of your jeans, pulling you close with a playful tug. you could see the amusement in his smile and the naughtiness so very visible in his eyes.

you felt your cheeks heat up at his unexpected move and nickname. “shidou!” you exclaimed, half-laughing and half-embarrassed. “god, when did you come up with that?”

he leaned in, his hands messing up your hair. “just calling it like i see it,” he teased, pulling your hair back behind your ear as he lowered his lips right beside it. “you like it, doncha?”

MICHAEL KAISER. “i’m off to practice, mein liebling,” he tied his shoelaces as you stood by the door. you looked at him, puzzled by the unfamiliar words. “mein liebling?” tilting your head, wanting to tell you don’t understand any ounce of german. “what does that mean?”

kaiser smirked, clearly enjoying your confusion. “you can search for it yourself,” he replied, leaning back against the wall. “i’m a busy man, you see.”

you pouted, playfully nudging his shoulder. “come on, michael, tell me. is it something nice?” he chuckled, revealing his red eyeliner as he closed his eyes in amusement. “of course it is, idiot,” he teased. “i’m calling you an idiot in german.”

raising an eyebrow, you’re clearly unconvinced. but kaiser shrugged nonchalantly. “well, you’ll just have to trust me,” he continued, yet you caught a sly grin that flashed across his face. oh, he’s definitely messing with you.

MIKAGE REO. “here you go, milady,” he said, placing your cup in front of you with a flourish and a slight bow.

“milady?” you paused before taking a sip from your cup. “wow, reo, what a gentleman you are today,” you teased, maybe thinking of calling him ‘my lord’ in return.

the man stood up straight, smirking broadly, and sat down across from you with his knees crossed.. “well, i aim to please,” he replied, his tone light and teasing. “only the best for you, milady.”

ITOSHI SAE. your boyfriend raised an eyebrow, oblivious to the effect his words had on you. “is something wrong?” he was slightly concerned. “what’s up with you?”

you tried to suppress your flustered state, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you. “no, nothing’s wrong,” you stammered, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “it’s just… you called me ‘love’.”

he paused for a moment, then shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “i guess i did,” he said, sitting down across from you. “well, get used to it. because that’s how i feel about you, love.”

BACHIRA MEGURU. "here, cutiepie!" he jogged over to you, a big grin plastered on his face as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

you took his face and used the towel you were holding to wipe away his sweat. “cutiepie, huh?” you replied, pinching his cheeks with the other hand. “that’s a very sweet thing coming from you, meguru.”

bachira laughed, plopping down beside you and draping an arm over your shoulders. “well, i think it suits you perfectly,” voice always light and playful. “you’re the cutest person i know.”

ISAGI YOICHI. “hey, angel,” he greeted, his voice a bit shy as he scratched the back of his head. his cheeks were flushed, not just from the run, but also from calling you by the new nickname.

your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheeks. “you’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, you know that?” you teased, pulling back slightly to see his reaction. “so, you’re calling me angel?”

isagi’s blush deepened, and he looked away, clearly embarrassed. “yeah, um… i just thought it suited you,” he mumbled, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “but if you don’t like it, i can stop.”

@uzurakis

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bookyeom · 4 months

Text

pairing: vernon x reader word count: 3.7k warnings: angst (she did it y’all!!!!), swearing, kissing, wet!vernon

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. Happy Birthday, Bononie!

kissing in swimming pools by holly humberstone

do you think we were made to last in the coldest of weather? maybe i don’t have to leave so soon you look heavenly in this shade of blue

Vernonie [8:48pm]: finally back from dinner

Vernonie [8:49pm]: everyone’s gone btw, so i’ll come get u now?

Y/N [8:51pm]: yeye! Just text when ur outside

You hear his car before you see it.

His parents must have kept his old, beat-up car from high school for when he came back for the summer, you muse, and it makes you smile. You’d spent a lot of time in that car, listening to whatever new indie band Vernon had “discovered” that week, or eating take-out in the department store parking lot after hours, or your personal favourite: with the engine shut off at the lookout Vernon had discovered on his way home from work one day, tucked away from most of the world as the two of you reclined in his car seats and looked at the night sky.

You used to wonder if it was there that you fell in love with him, but the truth is that you loved him long before he showed up at your door at 1am, eyes wide with excitement over his new discovery, and brought you there in your pajamas.

You still have the hoodie he’d leant you that night in the closet of your childhood bedroom.

Tonight, you shut the door quietly behind you out of habit, twisting the knob so it doesn’t make a sound. You’re long past the days of sneaking out, but your muscle memory won’t quit.

It’s been eight months since you last saw Vernon. You only came home for two days at Christmas, claiming you couldn’t take that much time off from your part time job, and had managed to avoid him. You had still needed the space from him, then. December had only marked four months since he’d broken your heart, and you weren’t sure at the time if you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again.

The months after Christmas break had finally begun to heal you. Your new semester had started, and you had decided to dive headfirst into both academic and social endeavors instead of wallowing away in your dorm room. You’d finally made new friends, your grades had improved, and while it still hurt to see his name when it popped up across your social media platforms, it wasn’t all you thought about anymore.

Right now, you kind of can’t wait to see him.

“Hi,” you say, breathless, and when Vernon meets your eyes, you know you’re not breathless because of the jog from your front door to his car.

He looks good. His hair is a bit longer, curling at the ends and falling softly across his forehead, and you think his shoulders have filled out. His jaw is just as sharp, eyelashes just as long, and you immediately wonder how you’d gone so long without him.

“Hi, stranger,” he says, and you’re terrified that the sound of his voice might tear you apart — but it doesn’t. You hold firm, despite the sound of your heartbeat roaring loud in your ears. It hurts, but it’s a dull ache instead of the sharp pain you’re used to. Seeing him sends a wave of relief through you instead of the dread you’d been half expecting, and you can feel the tension in your chest ease just the slightest bit. You can do this. Because it’s Vernon, and because life sucks without him.

You stare at each other for a few moments, and then he raises an eyebrow as if in a challenge, and you can’t help it. You break into a smile, and then you’re surging across the middle console and pulling him in for a hug. He laughs against your neck, and you know he’s just as happy to see you as you are him. The hand that was on the steering wheel finds your back, and your eyes fall shut.

“I missed you,” you say honestly, and you swear you can feel him exhale.

“Yeah,” he says before squeezing you tight, once. Brief, but enough for you to feel it, to understand, as he adds, “Me too.”

You pull back. Vernon puts the car into drive as you click on your seatbelt, and you fall into an easy, comfortable silence as he begins to make the familiar way back to his place.

When you texted him a few weeks ago, your hands trembling but determined, you hadn’t been sure what he would say. You hadn’t spoken in months.

For a while, you didn’t think you’d ever get over the rejection of last August, but a year away at university had done you good. It was full of distractions; you’d even had a couple of flings here and there. Vernon had texted you a bit at first, because you’d insisted that you were fine, but it had hurt to see his name show up on your phone. You had responded slowly, using any and all excuses to explain away the days that passed without you answering. You’d texted sparingly throughout the year on birthdays and holidays, and you knew he watched your stories the same as you watched his. You knew he knew the real reason why you were distant, but he never pushed. After all, he’d broken your heart, not the other way around.

Eventually, you had recognized that the distance was helping, and conversations between the two of you had become even more sparse after that. It had been hard — one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do — but you’d needed the space. So when his response to your text a few weeks ago had come quickly and enthusiastically, a Vernon-esque “bet :)” in response to your ask to hang out when you got home for the summer, you had been so relieved that you’d cried. Though you’d known he would never hate you, deep down a small part of you had still been afraid that you’d pushed him away for good.

The silence in the car tonight is comfortable, and you’re grateful. Vernon is tapping in tune to the beat on his steering wheel while you hum along in quiet contentment. After a couple of songs that you recognize play in a row, you turn to him in surprise.

“Is this the playlist I made you for your birthday two years ago?”

Vernon simply nods, eyes on the road as he makes a turn. “Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Vernon laughs. “Am I not supposed to listen to it?”

“Just surprised me, that’s all.”

”Okay, weirdo.”

The conversation moves on, but you don’t forget about it, even as you pull up to Vernon’s childhood home.

It looks almost exactly the same. You follow Vernon up the steps and to the front door, through the foyer and to the kitchen where you used to help his mom prep for their summer barbecues. He tosses you a bottle of water wordlessly before he’s slipping out the back door without warning, and you trail behind without question. His peculiar mannerisms don’t faze you, even after all this time apart, and that realization brings you a warm sort of comfort.

As soon as you step through the back door and into the warmth of the summer evening air again, you can’t help but smile. This, too, remains unchanged. The heated pool with its blue and white tiled sides; the metal table with its umbrella, a single tip bent out of shape so that it sags just in one small part; the overgrown trees whose leaves spill over the sides of the wooden fence. You’d spent many days and nights here, too.

You join Vernon, who’s already sitting on the edge of the pool with his legs hung over the sides.

“Damn, you didn’t waste any time, Sol.” The nickname falls out before you can stop it. It’s been so long since you’ve been around him, since you’ve even let yourself think of him as anything other than Vernon. If he notices your slip up, he doesn’t say.

”It’s hot out,” he points out, simple. “Why wait?” He takes a swig of his own water bottle, and you’re smiling again.

You join him without further comment.

Quiet settles between the two of you again, which would be fine if you weren't suddenly itching to ask him a million questions. How was his first year of university? How are his parents, his sister? Is his favourite food still carne asada tacos? Does he still only own t-shirts and jeans? Is he… seeing anyone?

Is he happy?

Had he really missed you?

“I’ll be right back.”

You’re surprised when Vernon gets up, barely missing you with the water he sends splashing as he does. But you don’t question him, your legs swinging back and forth in the water. You watch the underwater lights distort in the ripples you make, distracted by the simple movements and your racing thoughts. When you hear him re-emerge, you turn to find him with two towels in hand. Your eyes widen and you frantically shake your head.

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit, Vernon.” And I am not getting into that pool with you in just my underwear.

He pulls something out from under one of the towels, and you recognize it as one of his favourite band tees that he’s had for years. He raises his eyebrows at you, eyes twinkling in a teasing challenge, and you narrow your eyes at him. The smile on his face briefly sends you reeling back — back to before that night last summer when everything changed. Back to when he was just your best friend who liked to tease you for fun, who brought you your favourite ice cream every movie night, who took you to your high school graduation dance even though you knew he would have rathered gouge his eyes out with a spoon.

Back to when you were in love with him, but he didn’t know yet.

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll get in.”

He grins, and your chest does a little flip-flop. You forcefully ignore it as you take the shirt from his outstretched hand. He turns around to give you privacy, and you keep your eyes on his turned back as you remove everything except your underwear and his shirt. Though he’s grown up now and wears things that fit him better — you had noticed the bomber jacket in his backseat, and the t-shirt he’s wearing that fits him just right — he used to love things that were three sizes too big. The old, worn shirt just brushes your thighs, but you don’t have time to think anymore about it when he moves to pull his own shirt up and over his head.

You watch the muscles in his back contract, and you swallow. Don’t go down this road again, you tell yourself. It’s just going to hurt like hell.

If you’re honest with yourself, you’re starting to wonder if you’d ever really strayed from that path in the first place.

Because when he turns back to you with raised eyebrows and a smile, when he pulls you with him by the hand, it hits you with as much force as the cool water you jump into. And when you resurface and your eyes find him already looking back at you, his hair sticking up every which way and water dripping from his lashes down onto his cheeks, it hits you again.

That you don’t know if there will ever be anyone else for you but him.

You turn away from him, running your hands through your hair, trying desperately to keep your cool. You feel like you’re being punched in the stomach, like that sharp pain you’d felt since last August had never left. You thought you were ready to see him again, and you had been so, so wrong.

You can feel all those months of mending, of trying desperately to get over your feelings for him so you could have him back in your life — you can feel them as they slip away.

“I’m sorry,” was all he’d said that night, and your heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. You could tell through blurry eyes that he was hurting, too, because he loved you, you knew he did. Just not like that. He hadn’t said anything else, even though it looked like he wanted to, and you just didn’t understand. You thought for sure that he felt the same, because he’d kissed you back, because you knew him just as well as he knew you.

And it really felt like you’d healed. Just an hour ago, you’d even been excited to see him again.

You will yourself to breathe.

“Hey. I’m sorry I pulled you in with me.”

You don’t respond.

“Are you okay?”

You don’t answer as his voice breaks through your racing thoughts, your back still turned to him.

“…Y/N?”

He sounds concerned, like he cares. You know he does — know that he always has. And it hurts.

You can feel the water moving behind you when you still don’t respond. You can feel it as he takes a step or two closer, and you can almost imagine the look on his face as he tries to figure out what he did wrong. You feel like you’ve been burned when he reaches for you, when his hand tries to find your arm to turn you back to him. You can hear his inhale when you flinch away, your skin on fire where his fingertips just barely brushed your shoulder.

He tries again, because he loves you. Because he loves you — but not like that. “Talk to me?”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you take a deep breath. You know you have to face him in order to get through this, to leave here in one piece even if it’s by pretending. You have to. You don’t want him to know, don’t want him to know that you’re still the reason you can’t be close to him, that you still love him, that you probably never stopped.

But when you turn to find him right there, find him so close, when you see that his eyes are full of worry, you can’t find a single word. He looks beautiful in the dim blue light of the pool, and it makes your heart ache.

“Y/N.” Your name is nothing but a whispered breath as he says it, his eyes locked so intently on your face that you suddenly feel warm all over despite the slight chill of the water. His gaze pierces through you, and you watch as it travels across your face, down to your lips, where it lingers.

You’re not sure you’re breathing, not sure what to do, not sure how to possibly move on from what feels impossible. Why isn’t he moving away? Why is he so close?

“I…” He tries again, eyes still on your mouth. Then he snaps his gaze up again. “I’m… I’m really happy that you’re here.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You…”

“I missed you.” He looks hesitant before he says it, but he says it anyway, and your breath catches when you hear the tender, soft tone of his voice. It makes your head spin. “I really missed you. So much.”

You take a steadying breath at the same time as he does. The air between you feels charged — charged with something you won’t let yourself name.

Then he’s stepping even closer, a hand lifting to your face, and you freeze. You can’t move — you don’t even know if you want to. You’re confused, but you don’t move, and all you can manage to say is a single word.

“Sol,” you caution.

He takes a deep breath in, and then he says, “You haven’t thought about it?”

His hand is gentle on your jaw, thumb tracing lines back and forth across your skin. You feel goosebumps everywhere he touches. Your eyes search his, trying desperately to understand. You hate that you’re finding him extra hard to read right now — now, when you need to know what he’s thinking more than ever.

“Thought about what?” Your voice is small, and you hate it.

Vernon’s other hand lifts to your face, tilting your chin up towards him. His eyes search yours as he speaks, his voice low. “Last summer.” He pauses. “Us.”

The words hit you like a truck.

“What the fuck, Vernon?” You finally manage. You can feel the tears begin to well up, and you pull his hands away from your face. “Don’t you dare.”

He takes a step back, eyebrows knit together. “I’m sorry.”

You stare at him incredulously, frustration bubbling to the surface the longer you look at him. “Don’t be an asshole.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and all you can hear is the water gently hitting against the side of the pool. You frustratedly tuck a lock of wet hair behind your ear before crossing your arms.

“Why would you say that to me?” You’re hurt, and he knows it.

“I just…” He searches your face for a moment before he breathes out, “I think about you all the time. I miss you all the time.”

You can feel angry tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. You blink them away rapidly as you spit out, “You were the one who kissed me back and then pretended like nothing happened. You—“

“Would you have gone?”

You blink when he interrupts you, and it takes you a second to try and understand what he means. You wrack your brain, trying to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “What?”

“Would you have gone to school there if I had told you I loved you last summer? Or would you have chosen somewhere closer?”

You’re absolutely dumbfounded as you process what he’s saying. You’re blinking away furious tears, mouth agape as you try and settle on something to say. “Was that your fucking choice to make?”

“I was trying to make it easier for you. It’s your dream school.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “What the fuck? I was in love with you, Vernon!”

“I was in love with you, too!”

The silence is deafening. You stare at him with wide eyes, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it. Then you squeeze your eyes shut, your hands lifting to cover your face as you try and regain your composure.

“I thought I was doing what was best for the both of us.”

His voice is quiet. You know he’s telling the truth. It hurts, but you know he’s being honest. That he thought he was doing the right thing.

“I thought that maybe the distance would make it a little easier,” he continues, voice carrying softly across the water in the space between you. “But it didn’t. Not for me.”

Moments pass, and you realize you’re shaking. Your hands stay covering your face as you take deep breaths, waiting until you’ve recovered enough to say, voice low, “I have never been more upset with you than I am right now.”

He’s quiet for a moment before he responds. “I know, and I deserve it. I’m sorry that I made that decision for you. I really am. I shouldn’t have done it.”

You nod after a minute, after you force yourself to breathe, letting your hands fall from your face. You can’t look at him, though, eyes instead focusing on your fingers that begin tracing patterns in the water at your sides. “Okay.”

“And I'm…” He trails off, and you wait. He takes so long that you look up to find him looking at you, waiting, and something in his eyes has you stuck there. He searches your face, and then he says, “I’m sorry that I made you think that I don’t love you back. Because of course I do.”

Your heartbeat has begun to roar in your ears again. “You do, present tense?”

Vernon freezes, eyes wide. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he finally settles on something. “Shit. Sorry, fuck, I—”

“Is that a yes?”

He inhales sharply. “Yeah — yes. I don’t expect anything from you, though. I promise I’m not —“

“You are such a fucking idiot.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I know. I know. I’m—”

“I spent so long figuring out how to put myself back together,” you say softly, and he cuts himself off. You can feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids again. “Without you.”

Vernon’s shoulders sag, and he nods, looking down at the water. “Yeah.”

Your breath catches before you steady yourself and you say, “It’s literally always been you, Sol. Even though you’re a fucking idiot.”

His eyes are wide when they shoot back up to meet yours. You inhale a shaky breath, watching as he waits, unsure.

“It’s still you,” you add quietly, and you’re certain that you hear his breath catch.

“I’m in love with you,” he breathes out before you can say anything else. “I love you back. I did then, and I do now, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I wanted to, I swear. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m…” He trails off, a hand running through his hair as he finishes, “I’m just really fucking sorry.”

“I believe you,” you say softly, because you do. You believe him, and you’re not sure your heart has ever beat this fast. Because he loves you — the same way that you love him. Vernon looks down at the water again, and you think you can see the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks as he thinks. “Sol?”

Your soft voice makes him look up. He still looks uncertain, like he doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do.

“Come here?”

You’re in his arms so fast you can barely process. He’s hugging you so tight against his chest that you can feel the warmth of him through your wet t-shirt, and it sends shivers down your spine. He doesn’t say anything else as he holds you, and neither do you. Your arms are wound around his neck, and you can feel the way his nose nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder.

You pull back, your hands finding either side of his face. He blinks, slowly, taking in every part of you in the same way that you’re taking in every part of him. You brush away a stray drop of water that falls from his hair down onto his forehead, and you’re certain you’re dreaming. He’s so beautiful, a perfect juxtaposition of sharp edges and soft lines, so… Vernon.

And he’s gazing at you like you hung all the stars in the sky — because he loves you, in the same way that you love him.

For the second time in a year, you kiss him first.

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the sixth of our Thirteen Valentines in honour of Bononie’s birthday. Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

#Vernon x reader #vernon angst #vernon fluff #vernon x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #vernon imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #thirteenvalentines #my writing #chsfic

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lovergojo · 4 months

Text

HONEYSUCKLES

synopsis: Zayne thinks you look beautiful in the snow, and that honeysuckle’s are meant for your love.

cw: reader referred to ‘girlfriend’ but other than that, no other uses of she/her, third person point of view, no use of y/n, black!reader friendly! Reader has hair, but it’s not descriptive.

ZAYNE

It’s not out of the norm for Zayne to be late for dates. He’s a very busy man, and a doctor, so of course patients should come first. What is out of the norm you might ask? Him not texting you that he’ll be late.

Surely, he has a good reason for not texting you right? You don’t want to be a bad girlfriend and just leave in case he comes back. So you wait half an hour, which turns into a whole hour.

Now things are fishy.

You’re looking around the snowy sidewalk, it hasn’t gotten cold enough for you to leave, because if there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that Zayne will absolutely text you to go home if he wasn’t going to show up at all.

You look up at the street lamp, focused on the bright area it swallows up. There’s a tap on your shoulder and you spin around to face the stranger.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you to wait inside somewhere nearby. I didn’t think I’d spend so much time in that flower shop.”

Right in front of your face, blocking your view of Zayne’s face, are yellow honeysuckles.

“Oh!” You take hold of the honeysuckle’s, looking up to meet Zayne’s gaze.

Beneath the glowing streetlight, Zayne looks cute. His cheeks are red from the cold, and snowflakes decorate his raven colored hair strands, as well as on his long eyelashes. You can’t help but huff out a laugh.

“Hm? What’s so funny?” He looks at you with a straight face, but you catch the curious glimmer in his eyes.

“Nothing. You look cute covered in snow.” You smile and stand on the tips of your toes to brush snow off his hair.

“Thank you…you also look very beautiful in the snow.” His hand guides up to the apple of your cheek, giving it a quick squish between his pointer finger and thumb. “I got so distracted by your beauty that I was late.” He says.

“Liar!” You tease.

“It’s the honest truth.” *he chuckles, and looks over his shoulder to point somewhere behind him. “See over there? I was standing right there staring at you.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, why the flowers?”

He offers his arm for you to hold on to, and you gratefully accept, wrapping your arm under his and resting your hand on his bicep.

“Do you know the language of flowers?” He speaks while walking, headed towards the restaurant you both decided on for this particular date night.

“Hmm, can’t say that I do. What do these mean?” You bring your eyes to the yellow flowers.

“Try and take a guess.”

“Mmm…maybe, something like ‘I love you’?” You say cheekily, and he can’t help but chuckle at how bashful you look.

“Yes, pretty close. These mean ‘true love’ or ‘affection towards one another’ and ‘first love.’ ”

“And I am..?” You question, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“You are all three.” A small smile spread across his face, leaning down to press a kiss against your temple.

“I apologize for being late again. Next time, you can just go home if I take too long. I’ll meet you back there.”

You hum. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

You smile, and tighten your arm around his.

“It’s okay. I’ll always wait for you, no matter how cold it gets.”

“That’s fine, but I would prefer my lover to not be sick on our dates.”

“You know Elsa from Frozen said the cold never bothered her anyways.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line..?”

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #zayne x you #love and deepspace x reader #zayne fluff #lad x reader #lad zayne #𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ―୨୧⋆ ˚

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onepiecepetalfanfics089 · 2 months

Note

How do you think Sanji would react to reader fasting?

Honestly, hard to say lol! Very intriguing though! I feel like it would honestly depend on the reason they’re fasting, as long as they’re doing it in a healthy way, and they promise to eat when it’s time then he’ll be okay with it! but here’s a little something that I wrote for it 💗

Tapping your fingers nervously on the side of the decks railing you sighed, recently you had started fasting. What was there to be worried about?..the whole crew was very much understanding and it shouldn’t really be that much of a problem at all right?..

Yeahh maybe not..

The only problem was Sanji, the cook of the crew.

Usually with anything else he would be fine with it, Sanji is a very easy going and chill person most of the time, but when it comes to his cooking..and you?..

You didn’t want to upset him at all, his food was absolutely delicious and it’s not like you were doing it out of spite or anything..so why on earth do you feel so anxious?

Well, how bad can it really go? Today is a chill day, despite all the crazy adventures you all go on, you were at sea and not heading anywhere for a while. You definitely had a few hours until the crew usually ate dinner-

“Y/N! Hurry up! Didn’t you hear me yelling dinner was ready? Sanji even made your favorite!”

You jumped slightly, why you?…

Standing behind you was Usopp, hands on his hips and a thick eyebrow raised. He knew about your fasting since you trusted him quite a bit. You glanced away, looking at the beautiful sunset before to try to avoid his stare.

“Uh..well..”

“Wait..don’t tell me you haven’t told him yet?..!”

He said, blinking and speaking in an almost incredulous tone. You e been fasting for about..a month now..he was honestly impressed at how you kept it so hidden.

“I just..haven’t got to it yet okay?!”

You said with a sigh, glancing at him and turning back towards him, leaning against the railing with pursed lips almost.

“Like I said earlier, I don’t think he’ll understand maybe!”

You said, another sigh escaping your lips. Like it was contagious, Usopp let out one as well, a half smile displaying on his lips.

“Oh please..everyone knows you’re practically his favorite..you’ll be fine.”

He said, waving a dismissive hand at you. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes you decided, it was time..he did have a point after all..

As you and the Sniper of the crew approached the dining hall, your thoughts were a bit..cluttered. At the same time you knew you weren’t to be so nervous, why should you be? But you just didn’t know how this was going to play out..you were positive Sanji had never been confronted with his whole life!

The sound of laughing and chatter soon filled the room you were in as you saw everyone eating happily, not a care in the world for them it seemed. Plates being sat on the table, glass clinking together was also heard. Your eyes slowly wondered around the room for your cook with the curly eyebrow.

And then, you spotted him.

He was standing by the sink, finding up something that was covered by the counter walls. Usopp gave you a wink fur good luck and went to go join the rest of the crew, grabbing his plate.

You took a deep breath and then sighed.

Man, you were really doing that a lot today huh?

Once you were behind the sink, you approached him, giving a polite yet sweet smile.

“Hey Sanji!..”

You said softly despite the fact that you were a bit uneasy for obvious reasons..

He took a glance at you and then another, blinking a bit before you saw his eyes light up, a big grin now plastered on his face. Come to think of it, he always had that when he saw you..

“Ah, Y/N-chan~! You’re just in time..I was getting a little worried..but I have your plate right here, ready for you to eat~!”

He said in that sane high pitched tone he used with you that always made you laugh. Now that you think of it, was that what he was doing and why he was standing there? You glanced down to see your plate by his hands at the moment, all fixed up and perfectly positioned.

Your heart almost melted..he was standing here the whole time, waiting for you and guarding your plate from a certain captain with a straw hat..

“Aww, that’s very sweet of you Sanji but..that’s exactly what I came here to talk to you about..I need to tell you something..”

You said, looking over him for a minute to make sure he was paying attention. His gaze was locked on you, rather intently..

Great! Now’s your chance!

“So uh, I’ve recently decided to start fasting..it’s because {your reason}, the reason why I haven’t told you id because well, I didn’t want you to get offended..your cooking is absolutely delicious! I’ve just made this choice..so..I hope you’re okay with it..”

He paused.

You glanced at the smoke spread around him from his cigarette, his blue eyes staring into yours the whole time. He then..chuckled a bit.

He closed his eyes for a moment taking his cigarette out and blowing smoke out almost efficiently.

“Well..Y/N..i cant force you to do anything..I’d just wish you would’ve told me sooner..just promise me that you’ll continue to eat full meals..and stay on the schedule your on..okay?”

You couldn’t have smiled more.

The next day rolled around and you got up early, earlier than anyone else to eat of course. Walking to the kitchen, you opened the fridge to make you something quick yet filling.

There you saw a plate of your favorite foods, covered in plastic wrap with a note attached to it.

“For Y/N, hope you enjoy my dear! ♡”

A/N:Hiiiii!! So sorry for the late notice but I had a busy day yesterday 😭 so this should hold you goes over until I can post the next chapter or Enchanted! It will be posted later tonight or tomorrow at latest! I will warn you guys that it will most likely be veryyy veryyy late! But I hope you liked this little oneshot! It’s a cute story don’t ya think?~ And I will say my writing has very much improved 😋 but I’ll see you later my lovelies! Thank you so much to the person who asked this! 💗🌸

Until next time my lovely petals~! 🪷🌷(by next time I mean like, in a few hours!)

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cocteaucherry · 26 days

Text

her way

summary- you were once on top of the world, unfortunately that was taken away from you, but all of a sudden two men, the best at their sports ask for help.

tags- 18+, mentions of bruises, anxiety, broken bones, anxiety attack, ooc probably for some characters, maybe some smut (or threesome) in further chapters. figure skating (can you tell I used challengers for inspo?) gojo x reader, geto x reader, female reader

a/n- (making my monthly comeback, also thank you for 200 followers every like and follow means the universe to me! debating on a chp 1

you once were on top of the world

Doing the thing you loved every day every second, the costumes, the flair, the elegance.

Your long time senior coach, Yuki, made sure to always support you, even.. if she usually made it to rehearsal thirty minutes late.

“Yeah yeah that was great! But make sure you’re more solid off your double jump!” Yuki smirked leaning against the short wall of the skating rink.

“Weren’t you on your phone half the time?” You raised an eyebrow panting loudly as Yuki gave you a coy laugh.

“See? Stop paying attention to me and you’ll land your jumps.”

Oh how cynical it would be for you in the future.

You had officially made it to the Grand Prix finals, the world's eyes battering down your whole back, at least that’s how it felt to you.

You sat stretching your legs, the world around you invisible until you went on in approximately nine minutes and ten seconds. Your nerves were particularly bad today but you couldn’t focus on that right now.

You were so out of it you didn’t even notice the figure approaching you, all you saw were long legs in dark sweatpants.

You peered through your eyelashes to see the figure standing in front of you, snowy hair and sunglasses inside? Sheesh, how arrogant could this guy be?

“Y/N, right?” A grin appeared on his smug face as his hands slid into his pockets, “yeah? Is there something I can do for you?” You grunted standing up your eyes physically widening as you saw how tall he really was, getting a good look at his face and you began to recognize the man.

“Wait.. you look familiar..?”

His face drained of color as he cleared his throat, “Satoru Gojo, two time gold winner?” He pointed towards his face, “Figure skating Mozart on the ice rink?- wait you seriously don’t know who I am?!”

“I was kidding, MAYBE I’ve heard of you,” you chuckled and he let out a huff of frustration, “You’re good friends with.. what’s his name? Suguru Geto correct? I’ve heard he’s the Prince of Ice, huh?”

“That’s correct, he’s also fairly talented.” Satoru hummed in an almost annoyed tone? You pushed it off not thinking much of it.

“Must be hard huh? I mean being best friends in this line of business and somehow you always come out on top?” You questioned staring closely through Satoru’s glasses, you could almost clearly see the bright blue of his eyes peeking through the expensive lenses.

“Ahhh,” he grinned, adjusting his shades, “Suguru and I don’t lose our minds over a little friendly competition.”

“The Grand Prix is a friendly competition for you?” You scoffed crossing your arms and he nodded bashfully, “when you have no one to compete against it’s not really a competition.”

“Right, well I’m gonna get going soon.”

You desperately wanted to cut the conversation short but talking to him seemed to ease your nerves tremendously, “Thanks for talking with me though!” you smiled brightly getting set to walk towards the rink.

Satoru wanted to talk more but his words were caught in his throat, “I’ll cheer you o-on!” His voice fucking cracked and he wanted to slam his head against the wall.

Yuki stood nervously and annoyed at your apparent “lateness”

“Y/N! What the hell? You were supposed to be here a few minutes ago?” Her face was red with anxiety it seemed.

“I'm still here on time! Don’t worry Yuki,” you groaned and a smile appeared on her face, “I know I know, you should’ve been here though I was just talking to a certain someone you should be interested in,”

“Really? Who?” You said enthusiastically but before Yuki could start your name was called over the intercoms to get on the ice, you slid your windbreaker off revealing your light purple bedazzled costume. “I’ll tell you after, get out there and don’t fuck up!” Yuki pulled you into a quick hug before lightly pushing you into the direction you needed to go.

“Awhh, cmon Yuki!” You groaned walking your way carefully onto the ice, your mind repeating your step and jump sequences in your head.

Your legs jittered but you took deep breaths skating to your starting position.

Your routine started and you were doing great, landing your jumps, your spins were fluid and solid and then the second half was ending. Your routine was coming to a close and all you had to do was nail a double jump pretty simple right?

Then how come whenever you were in the starting position something felt off..

you were in the middle of the air getting ready to land before your ankle had twisted in the wrong direction causing you to eat absolute shit on the ice.

A loud CRACK! Resounded itself along with the searing hot pain your ankle felt as you tumbled on the ice, Oh God let this be a bad dream please God..

Hot tears poured down your face as you heard the quick loud flashes of cameras and the loud whispers of the crowd, your heartbeat sped faster and faster and you swore you were going to blackout, which is what you did.

You woke up from the blaring fluorescent lights and the steady beeps of the machines around you, your mother and father sat next to you with bated breath as your mother immediately jumped to hug you crying into your shoulder.

You groggily searched the room for Yuki only to find her in the hallway talking to the doctor, this wasn’t gonna end well.

You peered down at the large cast encasing your ankle and the bruises that crowded your leg, you wanted to cry but no tears came out.

Hours later you finally decided to turn on the TV, wanting to avoid seeing you eat shit on 4K you were instead met with a different kind of news.

Males singles winners,

Bronze- Yui Haibara

Silver- Satoru Gojo

Gold- Suguru Geto

Satoru had lost? You wondered how he felt right now, sure a small smile was on his face but he was adamant on winning.

Just like clockwork Yuki had come in holding two vases of flowers, “How you holding up?” She asked walking to the counter placing the vases down,

“‘As well as you think, everyone’s kind though.” You’ve gotten multiple concerned texts from figure skaters and fans and while you greatly appreciated it your face burned in embarrassment. How could you have messed up horribly?

“Of course they are, Goddess of the Ice,” Yuki hummed, checking the cards attached to the vases, “Well look at that, flowers from both Gojo and Geto.”

“Really? I feel honored.” You smiled but it quickly faded, “Tell me how bad it is Yuki.”

Yuki sighed leaning on the counter, “Well, your ankle is pretty fucked up.. might be time for you to look at possibly retiring.”

Your coach’s words circled in your head as you took a plane trip back to your hometown, your mother and father agreed to look after you in the meantime as you sought out your decision.

The past few days you had been in limbo, just living but no substance you even spaced out mid conversation with your best friend Utahime.

She offered you a place in her family’s shop where you could spend your hours conversing instead of just sitting around the house.

“Okay! Would you rather take care of ten newborn babies or fight a judo boxer?” Utahime asked, flipping through the channels of the front counter TV.

“We’ve played this for twenty minutes!” You groaned, placing your head in your hands, “the ten babies sound great though.”

Utahime had childishly given you a coloring book but you didn’t complain, you continued to scribble, enjoying the blissful silence with the occasional talk of the TV.

The bell of the front door opening broke you out of your silence, but before you could look up the voice seemed to give it away.

“Y/N! Long time no see!”

Your eyes were brought up to see the familiar sight you were “graced” with 5 weeks ago.

“Think we could talk for a minute?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto angst #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #geto x female reader #challengers #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujustu kaisen smut

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flametrashiraarchive · 11 months

Note

Hi! I saw your requests were open! I'm obsessed with Rengoku and Tomioka, so I was wondering if you could do something for either one or both please. I have issues with dizziness, almost like vertigo, but worst. They hit randomly and when they do, the only thing I can do when they hit is lay down and try to sleep through it. Could you maybe write something where they're taking care of Y/N with similar issues? Or trying to help them?

-☀️

Hello nonny! I’m so sorry about your dizziness. That sucks so much.

I’m gonna do both your boys because you deserve nice things.

Also, I’m doing this as if you’re dating them, because see above.

Giyuu Tomioka

You're traveling together when the dizziness comes. At first, when you stumble into him he gives you an exasperated look, but when he realizes you aren’t feeling good he grabs you, holds your arms and tries to get you to look at him.

“Dizzy?” he repeats it slowly. “Has it happened before? Do you know what to do?”

He helps you down to the ground, takes off his haori and folds it beneath your head. He sits there all evening as you sleep, keeping watch on the surrounding forest. Occasionally, his gaze drops down to you and a crease forms between his eyebrows.

He’s going to ask Shinobu about this later and see if she can suggest anything to help you. And if she can’t, he’ll just be there for you and do whatever you need him to do.

When the sun comes up he reaches out and puts a hand over your eyes, allowing you to sleep for as long as you need to.

And when he feels your eyelashes flutter against his palms he moves his hand away slowly and patiently, letting your eyes adjust to the light.

Kyojuro Rengoku.

“What is it? Are you hurt?” His fiery eyes grow wide as you stumble. He catches you and lifts you, holding you in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

He worries, thinking back over the last few meals you took together and wondering if it was something you ate which he managed to avoid. When you explain about your dizzy episodes and that you need to sleep it off, he carries you to bed, hurries to get you a drink of water–just in case– and then lies beside you.

The only thing he can think to do is what his mother would always do when he wasn’t feeling good; he strokes your hair and hums gentle songs to try to help you fall asleep (if that has the opposite effect he will leave you in peace and go and sit on the porch to study, but he’ll make a point to check in on you every half hour, tiptoeing so he doesn’t wake you.)

He wears a concerned expression all day– possibly achieves a new personal record for the longest time he has gone without smiling or making some kind of noise. When you wake up he’s right there, taking your hand and kissing it.

“How do you feel? Do you need anything?”

Sometimes you have to give him a little task, just so he feels useful in these situations.

#rengoku x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #kimetsu kyojuro #kimetsu rengoku #rengoku fanfic #rengoku headcanons #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku kyojuro #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x reader #giyuu headcanons #kimetsu giyuu #tomioka x y/n #kimetsu tomioka #tomioka x you #giyuu #hashira

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misshoneyimhome · 5 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/misshoneyimhome/737356008159084544/httpswwwtumblrcommisshoneyimhome736812845987

Prof!Willy anon and omg what you wrote was so good!! You don’t have to turn this into a series (but if you do I wouldn’t be opposed). Another thot/element to make it spicier is there being a little bit of an age gap like Willy is 30 ish and reader is like early to mid 20s. During one hookup, Willy has made you come so many times and he says something like “guys your age don’t know how to fuck a girl like this do they huh? can’t make you come over and over like I do?”. Also may I propose that he gets so turned on by being called professor in bed.

Oh, bb, I almost feel like I should head to church or something 🙈

These thoughts are stirring up all sorts of naughty ideas, and I just can't not go my instincts, you know 🙃😏

I hope you enjoy this next part 🙏🏼

Warnings; 18+ smut; oral sex (f receiving); fingering; unprocted sex (p in v); mild anal play (trying something new here��);

[Prof!Willy x reader]

“Guys your age don’t know how to fuck a girl like this do they huh?" I William Nylander (AU) 🖋️⚡️

"Alright, everyone, that’s it for today's session," the lecturer announced to the auditorium, signifying the end of the class and prompting the students to start leaving their seats. Most of them began making their way towards the exit, except for a couple of girls.

"Hey, Professor Nylander?" Angie spoke in a sweet, flirtatious tone as she approached the blonde man at his desk. "I was wondering if there's any chance I could earn some extra credits," she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"This isn't high school, Miss Turner. Here, you're an adult expected to earn what you deserve through your efforts," Professor Nylander replied, brushing off her not-so-subtle attempts to flirt with him.

"Well, my grades haven't exactly been the greatest. So, I was thinking, if maybe there was anything I could do to have them go up a little? Maybe you could tutor me?" Angie persisted, briefly turning around and offered her friends a wink.

Nylander sighed deeply. Angie had positioned herself half-sitting on his desk, her eyes suggesting a desire for the slightly older man, while her two friends in the background smiled in anticipation of her success.

"Why are you even taking this class, Miss Turner? It seems it's not for the curriculum," Nylander raised an eyebrow.

"I'm a professional ice dancer, duh. My coach thought it might be good for me..." Angie rolled her eyes, clearly not invested in the subject. However, this attitude didn't sit well with the professor.

"Miss, I don’t exactly have the time for tutoring, nor would it be appropriate… you’re on your own," he tried to tell her off with a stern expression, defusing the flirtation she was trying to create.

Because it had no work on him. He had no interest in spending more time than necessary with the student.

No, there was only one of his students he’d spend time with outside of school: you.

And naturally, you’d observed the whole scene from your usual seat.

Glancing up at the professor behind the girls, you briefly caught his look and curved a light smirk on your lips, as you couldn’t help but feel a little good about how desperate the girls were to flirt with him. A man they didn’t seem to have a chance with. And a man you were sleeping with in secret.

So, the girls let the matter drop and walked away from Professor Nylander, past you on the stairs and made their way out of the room.

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you packed up your stuff and approached the man by his desk, just like Miss Turner had just done, standing in front of him.

"Oh, professor, can I earn a bit of extra credits?" you mocked her voice in a silly manner, exaggerating batting your eyelashes as she had done, prompting a chuckle from your professor.

"Oh, are you sure you’d be willing to do that, miss y/l/n?" he flashed you a mischievous grin.

“I thought it’d be highly inappropriate, Professor Nylander," you teased further, raising your eyebrows up and down.

"For everyone else, sure, but in your case..." he said in a low, suggestive tone, leaning against his table while keeping a composed distance. "I can't wait to see how you'd attempt to earn those extra credits."

Despite whispering with a seductive tone, he made an effort to maintain his composure, aware that someone might enter at any moment and discover your clandestine relationship.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to demonstrate later – at your place, perhaps?" you suggested playfully, accompanied by a teasing wink.

"Can't wait..."

And with those words, you then departed the lecture room, purposefully strutting confidence as you walked away, making sure he’d look at your ass.

And of course he did.

"You know, she's actually quite pretty," you remarked softly while enjoying the sushi take-out on the sofa. "Angie Turner, I’d get why you might be tempted."

William Nylander, your professor, regarded you with a curious expression as he joined you, settling in with his own take-out box and chopsticks.

"Why would you say that?" he inquired, prompting you to respond with a gentle smile and a slight shrug.

"Just in case you might want to be sleeping with other students... besides me," you mentioned, shifting your gaze to your sushi.

"What makes you think I’d want to sleep with anyone else?" William chuckled lightly.

“I don’t know… I mean, I don’t know who you sleep with besides me – it’s not exactly something we’ve talked about,” you elaborated with a soft smile.

"Do we need to talk about it? Are there others for you?" he queried, the two of you sitting on his sofa, locking eyes with one another amid the background noise of the TV.

"No," you replied gently, offering a faint smile. "In fact, there's no one else."

"Not even Josh Adams, whom you've been flirting with?" William's gaze momentarily fell to his food as he asked, then returned with a more serious expression.

"What… I haven't been flirting with Josh... and how do you even know about that?"

"I do see you outside the auditorium," he chuckled softly. "Just thought maybe there was something going on between you two, you know, someone closer to your age," he playfully winked while taking a bite of nigiri.

And you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"Closer to my age?" you grinned at him. "Well, I suppose he is but... hang on, are you feeling jealous, Willy?"

"What? I'm not jealous..." William chuckled, before taking another bite of sushi.

"Oh, you're totally jealous!" You couldn't help but laugh, finding it amusing that the guy you were sleeping with might be jealous of one of your classmates.

However, William didn't really have any reason to be jealous because you weren't flirting with Josh. Not in the slightest.

Josh was simply keen on getting your notes for Nylander's class because everyone knew you excelled in your grades. So, he'd put in a lot of effort, trying to charm you into sharing your notes, but it hadn’t really work on you. You believed others should make their own effort instead of taking advantage just because you were rewarded for your hard work.

And it wasn't just because you were sleeping with you professor. No, you were actually interested in the subject.

"I'm not jealous, y/n," William chuckled. "Why would I be? I bet I fuck you better than he ever could..." he said somewhat darkly, finishing his last piece of sushi with a confident smirk.

"Oh, darling, I know you fuck me better than he can," you teased with a mischievous smile, knowing that such a comment would stir something within the man next to you.

"You've slept with him?" he asked, his eyes almost piercing into yours as his smirk slowly faded.

"Only twice, Willy... second semester, and then never again," you tried to offer him a reassuring smile, but it seemed your teasing joke stirred deeper emotions within him, and now he couldn't quite contain what seemed like a bit of jealousy.

"Was he any good?"

His question intrigued you, sensing a slight challenge in his demeanor now that there was a point of comparison. And you knew exactly how to reassure him that there was no real competition between the two, yet you also felt the temptation to play with the little spark you unintentionally ignited in William.

So, setting aside the empty take-out boxes on the coffee table, you smoothly leaned in and seductively whispered in his ear, "He was nothing compared to you... professor."

And that seemed to work wonders on William.

Quickly, he pulled you onto his lap, rising from his seat, lifting you effortlessly as his lips met yours in an eager kiss.

Your fingers instinctively tangled in his blonde hair as he carried you towards the bed, while tongues fiercely entwined, stealing every breath.

William then placed you on your back, lips still connected with yours, while he hovered at the edge of the bed with your legs wrapped around him. It was passionate and intense, saliva mixing as your bodies intertwined.

But then he abruptly pulled away, breaking the kiss by biting down your lower lip, standing upright, and his gaze serious as he looked down at you.

William knew that the 10-year age gap didn't matter much in the context of their purely sexual relationship. However, he was also aware that his additional years of experience could work to his advantage, and he knew precisely how to showcase it.

Firstly, he unbuttoned his shirt swiftly, tossing it aside to reveal his toned chest. Then, he expertly unbuckled his belt, slid down his trousers, and kicked them off to the side as well.

Your gaze followed him intensely, both of you exchanging hungry looks, and you could definitely feel your cunt pounding in anticipation, even though he hadn't even begun yet.

Next, he undid your jeans, skillfully removing them along with your underwear. And with a deft move, he pulled your jumper over your head and unhooked your bra with a simple snap.

And soon, you found yourself completely naked before your professor. As he knelt down, your legs being tossed over his shoulders, and his mouth eagerly delved into your heated area.

"Fuck, Willy, yes," you moaned loudly as he worked his magic mouth, licking up your folds, sucking your clit, and exploring you entrance with his tongue.

William’s mouth wasn't just adept at speaking in class; no, he also had a talent for bringing you to your first orgasm simply by eating you out. And as he held your thighs firmly, the waves of pleasure washed over you, causing you to arch your back and grip his shoulders with your heels.

And your second orgasm was then brought to you by a combination of his skilled mouth and fingers working in tandem. His rough, long fingers curled inside you perfectly, making sure he hit you most sensitive sport every time, as he then pushed you to the edge once more causing you to loudly moan his name, and your mind consumed by a hazy pleasure.

William knew your body so well that he didn't have to think much about making you feel good. He just knew what to do.

"William..." you gasped as he stood and released his hold on you, his large, proud length strained against his boxers, leaving a damp patch of pre-cum.

“You’re doing so well, baby girl,” he praised with a lustful intense glare, almost incapable of restraining himself from fucking you senseless. But he needed to show you just what he could do to you. That no other young boy could.

And as you tried to slowly crawl up the bed to find the pillows to rest on, William forcefully pulled you by your calves and dragged your ass back down to the edge of the bed, your arms coming to extend above your head as your hair was spread messily out on the bed, positioning you with your legs on either side of him.

"Oh, so you think I'm done with you?" he chuckled with a dark tone, and you couldn't help but smirk in return, intrigued as you were.

Because, obviously, he wasn't finished with you.

And this time, he wanted to feel himself inside of you. After pulling down his boxers and freeing himself, he held your legs around his waist and pushed forcefully, easily entering you deeply.

"Yes! Willy," you cried out as he completely filled you up, starting to rock his hips hard and deeply, while gripping your thighs tightly.

"Yeah, baby girl, you like it like this?" he breathed out deeply with every thrust. "You're such a good girl for me…"

His praise was like sweet music to your ears, and you couldn't help but release loud sounds with every pound from William, stimulating you entirely as he hit deep inside.

Because under him, you were a total mess, surrendering completely to his touch with every movement, and again feeling another orgasm building up.

"Willy, I can't...!" you almost whined, sensing the climax approaching.

"You can't what, baby? Take me? Oh, I know you can take me!"

In one quick move, William pulled out, flipped you around onto your hands and knees, then with his strong hold, pushed you back and resumed thrusting forcefully.

And just when you believed he couldn't become more intense and rougher, he proved otherwise.

William fucked you, and he fucked you hard. His skin audibly smacking against yours, as both of you were breathing heavily, the room filled with warmth, sweat, and passionate cries.

It was all incredibly intense and very much overstimulating.

You could hardly articulate a verbal warning. So instead, you simply gave in and reached climax once more, covering his shaft with your juices, as your head fell onto the mattress, feeling your essence trickle down your inner thigh.

William felt immensely satisfied with your response to his work, and he just couldn't resist complimenting himself for his efforts.

“Yeah, baby girl, guys your age don’t know how to fuck a girl like this do they huh? Can’t make you come over and over like I do?”

And no, they truly could not.

Your knees were growing weaker by the second, and there was no way you could endure another intense orgasm brought on by the man behind you. Yet, summoning a bit of strength, you forced yourself onto your elbows once again, earning only a smirk from William at how he had rendered you weak-kneed.

And then his gaze shifted to your bouncing ass as he continued pounding, he felt unable to restrain himself. So, he allowed a few drops of saliva to slip out of his mouth and trickle between your cheeks, where he then positioned his right thumb just above your tight hole, playfully applying a little pressure, which evoked a new, loud moan from your lips.

"Oh god," you murmured, dropping your head in defeat to the overwhelming pleasure once more, as you felt his thumb very gently press your tense muscles.

And you weren't alone in nearing climax. William too was on the verge of losing himself entirely.

"Baby girl, just give me one more," he demanded with a husky voice. And he did not have to tell you twice.

With his member deeply inside you and his finger teasing your other opening, you unraveled for the fourth time that night, your mind going completely blank and your body trembling beneath you.

"Yes, professor," you gasped out.

And those words, coupled with your tightening around William's cock, led him to follow suit, as he experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life. Releasing a deep grunt, as he expeled all the air from his lungs, and covered your walls entirely with his cum.

The air hung heavy with your labored breaths and the scent of sweat for nearly a minute before either of you could muster the energy to move and disentangle, slowly easing down from your intense high.

It had been a whirlwind of passionate and overwhelming pleasure. Only when William drew you close for a tender and calming embrace did the comfortable silence between you break.

"So, you really don’t sleep with anyone else?" he teased, glancing down at you while you rested your head on his chest and looked up at him.

"How could I ever sleep with anyone else when you fuck me like this?" you responded rhetorically, with a light chuckle.

"I suppose you can't, huh?" you both laughed softly. His question, however, prompted you to shift from your relaxed position. And as you stretched your arm, you now peered down at him.

"What about you? You never mentioned if you were sleeping with anyone else?"

Your tone was gentle, yet William sensed the undertones of seriousness, and he couldn't help but return a soft expression and a slight shake of his head.

"No, baby, you're the only one," he smiled back at you before pulling you into a passionate yet soft kiss.

#thirst week #18+#william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #prof!willy

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outermaybanks · 18 days

Note

Request for John b: John b punishes female reader for being a brat. (daddy kink, maybe bondage kink if you want)

a/n: omg my first request !!! thank u so much for requesting i hope u like it ♡ also John B just radiates someone to call his girl ‘pup’ i can’t help it

nsfw 18+

John B putting you in your place

You couldn’t help it, not really. Sometimes John B was just so… preoccupied with whatever was going on at the moment, which right now was a Pogue hangout.

You had come to John B’s with direct intentions, ones you thought he was well aware of, but soon after you arrived, JJ came out of the guest bedroom with the news that Pope was on his way with Kie. You looked to John B, confusion over your face.

“Bonfire,” he answered simply before pressing a too quick peck to your lips, then walking past you to follow JJ outside.

You couldn’t believe your boyfriend was so oblivious sometimes.

Fine. You thought. If he wants to play dumb, I can play dumber.

You went into your bedroom, which was really John B’s bedroom but for the past year and a half of your relationship, it had become yours too. You went straight to your dresser, to the bottom drawer, all John B’s favorites resided there; white tank top, no bra, ripped denim shorts, and your black thong.

After you got changed, you went into the bathroom to reapply your mascara before you put your hair up in a messy bun, John B’s favorite to grab. Then you gave a spritz of your perfume before walking out of the Chateau, feigning casual as you strode straight up to John B, who was currently in a beer chugging contest with JJ.

JJ surrendered first, which meant he was the first to notice your outfit, his jaw going slack and his eyes immediately averting to his friend, just as John B finished his can.

“You lose!” John B shouted, still oblivious as he threw his can to the ground, it was then he noticed the weird look on his friend’s face, and turned to see you. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“You won? Good job, baby!” You cheered, coupled with a small jump.

“Jeeeesus christ,” JJ said, fully turning around to avoid looking at you.

“Sweetheart, your outfit…” John B chuckled to try and seem light hearted.

Your eyebrows screwed together, a small pout on your lip, “What? I thought you liked this outfit?” You looked down at your outfit.

“I like the outfit,” JJ spoke up, his back still turned to you. His comment earned him a smack on the arm from John B.

“Baby girl,” John B said slowly, trying to get the hint across. “I do like that outfit, I just think… it’s too cold for it. I want my girl to be warm.”

“It’s July, Jombee, I think I’ll be fine.”

John B got a serious look in his eye. “Y/N…”

“John Booker,” You mimicked his tone. “I don’t understand what’s wrong. JJ likes the outfit," you argued.

“Let her wear what she wants, man, you’re not her dad,” Kie spoke up from the hammock.

“Yeah, John B, you’re not my dad,” You repeated slowly, looking at him with a smile before walking over to the cooler, bending down to reach inside for a drink.

You barely got the lid off before John B raced over to you, pulling you aside. “Okay, point taken. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling neglected, okay? Just go inside and change and I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Why would I feel neglected, Jombee?” You tilted your head to the side, batting your eyelashes, still feigning innocence.

“You’re pushing it, pup. Be a good girl, go change.”

Now you were annoyed. This was his fault, he was the one who wasn’t paying attention to you when you clearly needed it, and now he was threatening to punish you?

“I don’t want to change. I like this outfit.” You crossed your arms, huffing a bit.

John B took a deep inhale, his eyes devouring you as they scanned your body. Then he walked away, leaving you confused and following after him.

“Hey, guys, we’re out of logs, can you guys make a run?” John B asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, you had just seen a stack of logs behind the shed he pulled you to.

“Keys?” Pope asked, and John B reached into his pocket, tossing the keys to him. JJ immediately took the keys from Pope and the two boys raced to the van, while Kie took her time getting out of the hammock.

“Don’t have too much fun without us,” Kie mumbled as she walked past.

“What the hell was that?”

But John B didn’t answer you, he grabbed you by your wrist, leading you inside with very little fight from you. Once you reached your shared bedroom, John B practically threw you inside, slamming the door behind you.

“Dude! What the hell a-”

“What did you just call me, pup?” John B asked, towering over you. His eyes were huge and hungry, filled with lust. The air around you changed, and suddenly, you didn’t feel so vindicated.

“Fine! I’ll change my outfit!”

“Nuh uh, too late for that. On the bed, now. Face down.”

Your bottom lip quivered a bit, but you obeyed, laying on your stomach on the bed.

John B’s hands slid up the back of your thighs, the cupped the plump of your ass as he let out a took a deep inhale. “You think you’re so clever, huh?” His hands moved up, fingers sliding under the strap of your thong. “Didn’t know my girlfriend was such a slut, prancing around in practically nothing in front of my friends.” He pulled back the strap and let the string snap you, causing you to hiss.

“Noooo,” your whine was muffled by the mattress. “Wasn’t for them, just you… wanted to show you what you were missing…”

“Yeah? Well you got my attention, baby girl.” His hands reached around to unbutton your shorts before he pull them down your legs. You let out small yelp when his hand came down on your right cheek.

“Thought this was what you wanted, pup? My undivided attention.” You don’t know when John B got his pants off, but you could feel his hard dick pressed against your ass.

“Mmmm, want you Jombee…”

“How does a good girl beg?” His hands were now pawing at the flesh of your ass.

“Please daddy, please fuck me?”

His hand came down again, making you wince.

“Thought I wasn’t your dad?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I was bad, I’ll be good,” you pleaded.

“Go lay by the headboard.”

You crawled to the top of the bed, then looked at him as you turned to lay on your back, hesitantly; you didn’t want to make the wrong move. But he nodded approvingly, so you committed, laying with your back against the pillows.

John B reached around his neck, untying his bandana, and immediately your face scrunched with confusion, then morphed into upset when he brought your hands up to the headboard.

“Daddy…” you whined, leaning forward a bit. “I’ll be good, I promise. Just wanted you.”

“You have me, baby girl. You’re gonna have all of me,” John B said softly as he tied the knot connecting your wrists to the headboard.

John B kneeled in front of you, his dick perfectly at eye level. You bit your bottom lip as your mouth filled with saliva at the sight of precum leaking from his perfect pink tip. “Open.”

You looked up at him through your lashes as you slowly opened your mouth, but John B shoved his thumb into your mouth, forcing your mouth open wider before replacing his thumb with the tip of his dick, slowly sliding in.

“You said you wanted to be a good girl, right?” John B asked, and you carefully nodded with your lips wrapped around him. “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick.”

You kept your eyes on him as you began moving your head back and forth, opening your throat as wide as you could to fit the thickness of his cock. Despite your throat being used to his size, tears began springing to the corners of your eyes.

John B took a deep breath, a small moan slipping out. “There’s my good girl.” His hands found their way to your bun, his fingers digging into it. You wanted to be his good girl more than you wanted anything else, with each movement you tried to hollow your cheeks more and more. You ached to touch him, feel close to him, so you gave your all to sucking him off, hoping if you did a good enough job, he’d allow you to touch him.

“So fucking good at this, baby, fuck- you want my cum, sweet girl?” John B said softly between labored breaths, you nodded your head the best you could without disrupting your goal at hand. “Look at me, pup.” Your eyes immediately raised back to his eyes, but John B held your head up to look at him anyway, as his hips started snapped fucking himself with your mouth. You clenched your legs together underneath him as you felt your wetness pooling just from pleasuring him.

“Here it comes, be a good girl, okay baby? Yeah? You’re so fucking good for me, just for me. Feels so fucking good- ah- fuck!” John B just before you felt his warm cum spill into your mouth. You swallowed it all before licking his tip a few more times for good measure as the man above you caught his breath.

“Such a fucking good girl.”

“Yeah? I was good?”

“You sure were pup,” John B said before his head dipped down to press a soft kiss to your lips, he could still taste himself on your tongue. You pulled at your restraints, desperate to touch him, which made John B laugh.

“My poor baby…” He taunted, making you whine. “Ah ah, good girls don’t whine.” You settled for pouting instead. He gave you a devious smile.

“I want you to remember this the next time you feel like giving me a boner in front of my friends.”

John B lowered himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his still hard dick through your folds. You bit your lip as you watched him; this had been what you were waiting for all day, but nothing could have prepared you for the delicious stretch when John B suddenly slid all the way in to the hilt, a loud gasp turned moan escaped you. John B chuckled as he lifted your legs higher before he started his movements.

“This what you wanted? Speak up babygirl.”

“Yes daddy, this is what I wanted,” you breathed out as John B started with a slow pace.

“Yeah? Poor girl just needed my cock?”

“Needed it so bad, Jombee, craving you all day.”

His pace picked up, spurred on by your words; John B was always a sucker for dirty talk. You let out a pathetic moan as you tried to move your hips to match his movements.

But John B didn’t want to share control, so he pulled out, a disappointed gasp falling from you. With his hands on your waist, John B turned you to lie on your stomach, forcing your hands tighter together. His hands once more palmed at your ass before his fingers slid down to open you up for him to slide back in, his cock reaching deeper inside you and pulling sinful noises from you against your will.

“Fuck- mm- Jombee- oh my god-” You panted out between his thrusts as your face was pushed into the pillow from the position of your bottom, and the movements of John B’s hips. Small uh’s fell from your lips as your brain turned hazy from the bliss of pleasure.

“Baby girl just needed to be fucked dumb, isn’t that right, pup?” All you could muster was a eager nod of the head, John B chuckled before slapping his hand against your right cheek, pulling you closer to him by your waist as he moved faster.

“Close- close daddy, so close,” words fell from you without thought. “You feel so fucking good, daddy, you fuck me so good.”

“Already? Poor baby, so pent up. You gonna cum on my cock babygirl?” “Please let me, daddy, I want to be good. Want to show you how good you fuck me, please.”

“You gonna let me cum inside you like a good girl?”

“Yes!” You practically begged, on the edge of your orgasm. “Please, daddy, cum inside me, wanna feel it.”

John B knew just how to send you over the edge as his hand snaked around your bodies, inbetween your legs to slowly rub circles on your clit. You face fell back into the pillow as you let out a scream in pleasure, before your boyfriend’s name fell from your lips.

“Shhh, I’m right behind you baby, so close, just be good, let me use you a little longer.”

You bit your lip to try and suppress the moans caused by the overstimulation, but when his pace faltered a bit, you heard him let out a grunt before you felt familiar warmth of his cum inside you. You hummed with pleasure, proud of yourself for pleasuring him.

“You did such a good job, pup,” John B said softly, in between breaths as we reached up to untie the bandana from around your wrists. When your arms fell back down, you mustered up your strength to wrap them around him. John B held you close, laying on his back so you were laying on his chest.

You two laid there for a few minutes, catching your breath as John B caressed your head and whispered praises to you. “So proud of you. You’re such a good girl for me, Y/N. I love you, so so much.” He pressed a kiss to your head, and you let your eyes close, still buzzing from your orgasm and happy with your choices for the day.

©outermaybanks 2024

#john b x reader #john b routledge x reader #john b prompt #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #jombee #john b routledge

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sports-on-sundays · 10 months

Text

prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 2

Warnings : Switch between second and third person

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - The prince chooses who he wants to marry and grows closer to the one he wants.

Author's Note : Link to Part 1. There will be a Part 3.

Requested? : No.

You wake up to the sound of knocking. You slip out of the bed you've slept in for this night and pad across the floor to the door. The sun is shining in bright through the curtains. You open the door, still wearing just a nightgown. Standing in front of you is one of the other princesses, also still in a nightgown, with her hair in curlers. "Princess Y/n, I've been meaning to speak with you as soon as I soon you! Can I come in?"

You sigh, but shrug, opening the door to her. The two of you sit down on the bed, and you ask, "What could it possibly be?"

"You came yesterday dressed like a peasant! And what's more, you stayed with Prince Charles longer than any of the rest of us!"

"I did...?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. "It didn't feel like that long."

"You must've been in there three times the amount that I was, and I was in there for one of the longest amounts of time! What did you do with him in there?"

You shrug again. Of course, your mind immediately goes to the hand holding, hugging, and the kiss of your hand, but you just say, "I don't know. We just talked."

"About what?"

"I am not obligated to tell you."

She rolls her eyes. "But isn't he just dreamy?"

"Well, he's never been in my dreams, so I would say not. Anyway, is there anything else you have to tell me?"

"Just that a servant came to tell me that a breakfast is being prepared for all of us, in which the prince's advisors, Prince Charles, his mother, and his brothers will attend.. They're going to tell us which one of us Prince Charles has chosen! I'm sure it will be me! We're very close in age, you know, and I think I put forth a good image. I'm sure I have more of a chance than you do, at least."

You nod and just say vaguely, your thoughts elsewhere, "Sure... I'm sure. Anyway, would you kindly mind leaving so that I can prepare myself? Tell the servants I don't need help getting ready."

She looks at you with a strange look, and mutters, "Alright, then. I'll tell them that. See you later, Princess Y/n."

"Yes, just be on with yourself now, please."

And at that, she gets up and walks out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her. You get up to turn the lock, and then go to the wardrobe. Last night, the servants told you that everything you'll need to get ready tomorrow would be in there.

There are many dresses in there to choose from, and you decide to get dressed in a beautiful but very modest dress, as it seems like Prince Charles' advisors are very traditional people. So you first put on a corset, not too tight, before putting on a white dress with a white top and flowing silky skirts. The longer sleeves also flow out, and the dress goes down to your ankles. You bathed last night, so you put oils in your clean hair, before tying it half up. You put on plain heels that aren't too high, and some nice sparkling jewelry, and then go to your makeup.

You suddenly hear Prince Charles' unique accented voice saying in your head, Cover up your beautiful face with all that makeup?

You sigh and whisper to yourself, "Yes, Prince Charles, I'm afraid I have to." You darken your eyelashes and put slightly darker than your skin sparkling eye shadow around your eyes, before finishing it with some brown winged eyeliner. "There, Charles. That's not so bad, is it?" You brush your eyebrows and cover your imperfections, before finishing up with rouge on your cheeks and lips.

Then you exit your room. There is a servant in the hall, who immediately offers to lead you to the dining room where breakfast is going to be eaten.

When you get there, you look around to realize in embarrassment that you're the last one to arrive. But then you shrug it off, deciding that's a stupid thing to be worried about, and sit down in the empty seat.

King Lorenzo welcomes us all to the table, before everyone starts eating. Apparently, once everyone finishes their food, the three princes, the queen, and Prince Charles' advisors will exit the room and discuss the decision one last time, before coming out and announcing it.

In the meantime, you eat, and the advisors and princes start conversing with you. You keep quiet, until the youngest of the three princes, Prince Arthur, addresses you quietly, as he is sitting very near to you, "Princess Y/n."

You look up, meeting his eyes. "Yes, sir?"

His face is lit up a little as he says, "If you were to marry him, what kind of wife would you be?"

You blink in surprise at this question, and say after some thought, "Well, I suppose I'd make sure to take care of my responsibilities. I'd care about him and help him, as it would be my duty, but of course also visit my country very often, which I always care about and want to help. And when it comes to having children..." You try not to sigh. "I'd prefer to take care of them myself rather than servants."

He looks a little surprised at this comment, but nods, saying, "Alright. Thank you."

"Prince, do you have any children?"

The younger man shakes his head, responding, "No, I do not. But if I did, I wouldn't want servants taking care of them, either. Our parents always took care of me, Charles, and Lorenzo."

You nod, and once it's clear he has no more to say, turn back to your food. You have to be very mindful to sit up straight, use your napkin, and eat very cleanly, in front of all these people.

The only other person, it seems, who does not speak much at all throughout the whole meal is Prince Charles himself, the one this whole breakfast is centred around.

Finally, though, the eating is finished, and everyone exits the room, leaving only the seven princesses and the servants.

You sit. And sit. And sit and sit and sit. It seems to take an eternity, and you can only wonder what they're talking about.

And there's a nervous anticipation within you, just wondering...

Will you be the one in the end? Or will it be one of the others?

All of the girls are fidgeting and whispering, but you sit completely still, back straight, staring ahead, as your thoughts fly through your head as fast as warhorses running into battle.

"So it's the quiet one in the white dress you want to marry?"

"Yes," Charles nods, responding to one of his advisors. "She's humble, willing, kind, and the kind of woman I want to marry."

Charles' advisors look unsure, but his older brother pipes in, saying, "If Charles has finally found someone he actually wants to marry, it would be foolish to say no."

"I agree," says the boys' mother. "I trust him if he says she's the right one."

"What do you think, Prince Arthur?" asks of the advisors. "Because what if Prince Charles really doesn't know what's best for himself? I still think Princess-"

"I will not marry the fifteen year old," Charles interrupts sternly.

Arthur says, "Advisors, who am I to have a say? For I am not my brother's keeper, am I? In fact, I am younger than him. But if you ask for my words, I say let my brother do as he pleases. For if he uses his own judgement and things go bad for him, who's fault would that be? His own. He is an able adult, just like the rest of us, who can decide for himself. I doubt this will be a terrible thing, but if it is, the only one who will have to deal with that is Charles himself."

Suddenly, Charles laughs, nudging his younger brother in his ribs, saying, "I believe that may have been the most intelligent thing you've ever spoken, brother."

But the younger just rolls his eyes at this, and everyone becomes serious again as the conversation over the matter continues.

Finally, the door opens, and the group of people enter the room again. Every sits down, except for Prince Charles, who remains standing. He's wearing a very handsome outfit, with a white and gold coat, a read sash, and fitting pants. "Ladies," he begins. "All seven of you were very kind, and I would consider marrying every one of you, but in the end, one had to be chosen. After a long time of thinking it over and considering, I've decided..." He trails off, studying each of our faces, it seems, as if he's trying to build of suspense. But really, it seems more like he's hesitating.

"I've decided that I would like to marry Princess Y/n."

The whole room suddenly bursts out in surprise. All the princesses and advisors stand and shout in confusion, but before anything else can happen, Prince Charles swiftly leaps onto the table, and off on the other side, next to you, before grabbing your hand and running out of the room with you. He slams the door shut, and keeps running, still holding your hand. You trip over your cursed high heels, but Prince Charles catches you, keeping you standing, and you stutter, "P- Prince, I need to... I can't run in these shoes!"

You expect him to stop and let you take them off, but instead, he suddenly picks you up, carrying you bridal style, and keeps running. "We'll go faster like this," he says to you.

"Prince, what is all this? Where are you bringing me? Can you please put me down-"

"No. I'll explain once we get there," he says firmly.

You sigh in annoyance, but decide perhaps the smartest thing to do now is to just trust him. He runs through the halls, until he reaches a door, opens it to the outdoors, and starts running down the stone stairs in front of us. "I can run myself," you say. "It's probably hard for you... I don't want us to fall, and these are steep stairs."

"It's okay," he replies, his grip on your mid back tightening. "We're almost there anyway, and I won't fall. I've got you."

"You're... pretty strong, huh?"

"Thank you," he nods, reaching the bottom of the stairs. He runs down a beaten down path, into a little woods, jumping over roots and catching himself on the uneven ground.

"Be careful... I don't want you to trip and fall. I can run if you want..."

"Don't worry. I won't loose my footing."

And, he doesn't. You honestly can't believe how athletic he is, with so much agility, to be able to do this so easily. Soon, he stops at a clearing. The prince seems barely winded, and actually has a good mood about him. It's a sunny day, and you start look around. "We can walk now," he says before you can get a good look, and gently puts you down back on your feet "If I were you, I'd take off my shoes now."

You nod and do so, but when your feet touch the rough rocky ground, you yelp in surprise. Right away, Prince Charles does something surprising. He slips off his two boots and says, holding them out to you, "Here. Put these on."

"They'll be way too big..." you say, unsure. "And what about you? Your feet will hurt, and you'll damage your socks."

Suddenly, he smiles.

And it's a smile brighter than the midday sun up above the two of you, shining on your skin.

"Don't worry about my socks," he says, taking them off. "And my feet can handle it. I walk barefoot often enough."

But you stare at him and his little smile, barely even hearing the words coming out of his mouth. In his eyes, you can see a certain happiness, and with the smile, two dimples appear on his cheeks.

You nod, snapping back slightly back to yourself as you slip on his boots. Then you turn to him and look him in the eyes, which shine bright green in this bright lighting, and say, "You have a beautiful smile."

He looks you back in the eyes, still smiling, and says, "I'm sure you do, too, though I've never seen it."

You nod and say simply, "Do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Never stop smiling."

He looks at you, eyes twinkling, and says with a wink, "That's a hard task, but I appreci-"

"No, but you don't understand," you interrupt, taking a step closer to him. He also takes a step closer. "I believe your smile could fix the worst day, and light up the saddest soul."

This makes him smile even more, and he wraps you in a hug, laughing a surprisingly cute little laugh. "Now I'm allowed to hug you. We're officially courting. Anyway, the place I've wanted to bring you to is right up ahead here."

You nod, and the two of you start walking. This seems to be some sort of wide kind of trail, and the middle of it is growing with long, tall grass, about Prince Charles' height, with beautiful flowers of all colors growing in it. You walk along, enjoying the warm day, inhaling the sweet scents of nature, and listening to the birds sing without a care in the world.

Soon, you come along a little shed made of wood. In front of it sit three wooden chairs. "Let's go sit there," he says, pointing to them. So you go and sit down together. After a few minutes of just sitting together, ceasing the day, watching the tall grass dance in the light breeze, Prince Charles says, "Mama, Lorenzo, and Arthur all said I should court and marry you. My advisors disagreed, and they outnumbered the four of us. The only way to get out of there was to convince them that I had given in, and that I would choose one of the other princesses. So I made it seem like I was going to. But then when I walked out, I didn't. And I grabbed you and ran, to get away."

"Well... We'll have to go back there, no?"

"Yes of course we do. I just want to wait it out. Wait until things calm down there first before going back. But I am marrying you. My heart is set on it."

"So you want to marry me that much?"

This time he looks surprised. "Why, of course!"

"Oh..." you nod.

"I'm sorry... That isn't what you wanted...?"

"No, no, no... As long as... Well, I think you're starting to grow on me," you smile at him.

And he smiles back. "There's that lovely smile. I knew it'd be beautiful."

"So, tell me about this place. Surely you aren't the only person that knows about it?"

"No, no, I'm not. Arthur an Lorenzo knows about it, and a few other guys, too."

"This place feels like it has many stories for some reason, Prince. It feels like it has a story of its own."

"I suppose it kind of does. Lots of things happened here. I love this place because of the memories. But in a strange way as well, I hate it."

"Why could that be?"

"It's empty now. It's overgrown and quiet. This was... I loved this place. I still do. Back then, no adults knew about this place. Now I suppose only adults know about it. People grow. Places grow. Places also change. But most of all, people change."

You nod, gently placing your hand on his. "Do you dislike that?"

"Maybe a little bit."

"Do you wish you were still a boy?"

"Sometimes..." he pauses. "It was good times. Good... Good memories."

"What did you do here?"

"Well, we would mostly have competitions," he starts, another beautiful smile forming on his face. "We would be racing mostly. We had our ponies, and we'd race. We did other little things too though. We arm wrestled. We would bet on who we thought would win the chariot racing championship. Sometimes inside this shed here, do little things like play cards or draw pictures. It was fun. It was good fun."

"Do you still preserve the shed?"

"Yes. I... I do." He waits a few seconds, before saying, "Sometimes it's hard to let go."

"And sometimes there are things that you should never let go. Prince Charles, when i look at you, there's something beautiful within you. An innocence that makes you child-like. Being around you feels like being free. Completely free. You're a man who longs for the freedom and joy that children have implanted in their hearts. You have an adventurous streak, and you want danger, but you have such a kind, kind heart. A heart that wouldn't want to fight. A heart that just wants to run free. And I think that's beautiful."

"I guess so, but it's not convenient," he says with a soft, sad smile, looking down.

"Nothing good is convenient. Come on now. Why don't you show my the inside of this shed?"

He nods, standing up, and swings open the door, saying, "For years I've felt like a boy and a man at the same time. Everyone else was getting older as I stayed young. But now... Now I think maybe, with you, I can... I can finally grow up."

"And if you never do completely," you say, stepping into the shed, "I'm okay with that."

In the middle of the small room is a table. Sitting on it is a stack of playing cards and some dice. On a shelf in the corner is a little kid's helmet, and a stack of wood. Sun is shining in through a window that is covered by a thin, faded curtain. There are other little knick-knacks, like a top, a little carved toy horse, a little knife, and a pair of gloves used for gardening.

But your eyes are drawn to some names carved on the wall. There is a small list, but some parts of the list stand out to you more. The first name is written is Charles, but it's crossed out, and next to it is the name Max. Then under that are the names Arthur, Pierre, and Esteban. Then at the end of the row, written again, this time not crossed out, is Charles, and underneath his name are the names Lorenzo and Jules.

"Pierre and Esteban. Those are two princes of other countries, no?"

"Yes, they are. They also still race with me."

You nod. "You all used to be friends?"

"Yeah, some of us were friends. Some of us just competed against each other. Everyone who ever came here carved their name on this wall."

"Who's Max?"

"Another guy I still race with. We've always been competitive."

"And obviously there's Prince Arthur and King Lorenzo. Who's Jules? Does he still race?"

Prince Charles seems to stare for a few seconds at the name, before saying, "No. No, he doesn't." There are a few seconds of silence, and just as you're about to ask further about Jules, Prince Charles says, "Either way, you're here now. I say you ought to write your name up there," he says, handing you the little knife.

"But I never raced h-"

"But you're here. Go on. Write it."

And so underneath Jules' name, you write your own. "Good?"

"Perfect," he says with a little wink, taking the knife back from you and setting it down.

"So does that mean Lorenzo and Arthur know where this place is, then?" you ask, but suddenly you're answered when you both hear running footsteps from outside. You both immediately turn in that direction, and hear a voice call, "Charles? Charles? Are you there? It's Arthur!"

"Yes, we're inside!" Prince Charles calls back.

And soon, the wooden door swings open, and the younger, slimmer, but likely just as strong, prince walks into the little building. "Charles," he says, looking around. "Gosh, I haven't been in here since... years."

"I figured it'd be a good place to go."

Prince Arthur nods. "Fair enough."

"What's the condition of the advisors?"

"Annoyed, but they will have to get over themselves, no?"

"True enough."

"So we go back. Princess Y/n goes home. We send a letter to her father, and then she comes back in... I don't know. Probably a week. You come back in a week to court with Charles for a month, and at the end of that month, you marry."

You nod. "Alright..."

"So you should come back with me now." Prince Arthur looks down at the boots on your feet and the nothing on Charles' feet, and says simply, "And you can't be arriving like that. You might get killed."

Prince Charles chuckles. "We have her shoes. We'll switch shortly before we get there."

Prince Arthur nods, and the three of you set off, down the path, you in the middle of the two princes. As you walk, Prince Arthur talks to the two of you about racing, life, and so on. He seems to just be enjoying talking to his brother.

Soon enough, you get to the castle. You switch shoes, and Prince Charles looks down at you, saying, "Well, Princess, let's go."

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goatcheesecak3 · 3 months

Note

I read your Gavin Ellis fic and I’m so in love with him I wanna keep him in my pocket.

I wanted to request a fic (f! Or nb! Reader) where the reader is a close friend of Gavin’s and Ray’s. At a party, the reader meets someone and starts dancing with them (maybe even plans to go home with them), and Gavin has a high-key jealous moment about it.

Or, a second (angstier) idea: The reader saves Gavin from getting thrown off the roof, but gets really really injured in the process of stopping the cop.

Jealous

Gavin Ellis X F!Reader

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: brief mentions of drug use, alcohol and physical altercation.

Summary: after Gavin has ignored you all week, you decide to try and make him jealous.

A/N thank you so much for your request!! I love writing about Gavin because he's just sooooooo??????? i've gone with your first idea, but I definitely want to do the more angsty fic in the future! I think i just need to get better at writing how Gavin would act in more serious situations first teehee <3 also, for my male readers, i pinky promise I'll get the m!reader versions of my gavin fics up within the next few days, i've just been trying to get some new stuff out since i've been slacking with fics in general lately

The music was loud, the drugs were plentiful and the atmosphere was electric. Gavin’s parties were always eventful, the lack of rules usually lead to some sort of drama. So far this night some drunk arsehole had already jumped off the roof in an attempt to impress some girls (y/n couldn’t figure out what was more surprising; the fact that he only twisted his ankle, or the fact that the girls were actually amused). Y/n, a close friend of Gavin’s sat on a sofa, quietly sipping a beer next to Ray, another close friend.

“Do you want to go and see what Gav’s up to?” Ray asked.

Y/n scoffed at this, she and Gavin had been having a somewhat weird patch in their friendship. After drunkenly making out a week prior on a particularly crazy night out, things had been weird between them. Y/n had tried to brush it off and forget it ever happened, but Gavin seemed to be avoiding her.

“If the prick wants to talk to me he can come over here, I’m not gonna chase after him.” She rolled her eyes.

“But… and don’t take this the wrong way,” Ray gulped, not wanting to trigger her short temper, “you’re the one that came to his party”

With a raised eyebrow and an all too defensive tone, y/n responded, “I’m only here to steal booze and maybe take someone else home. What about that guy, David? The one on your footie team? He’s not half bad looking”

Ray sighed defeatedly. He hated when he got caught between y/n and Gavin’s drama, it was like putting up with his mother and stepdad all over again.

“I think David’s in the kitchen, just, please don’t make things weird, y/n, I like being friends with both of you”

y/n’s face softened.

“I promise I’ll only make things weird for Gav, never you though Ray” she smiled playfully, placing an affectionate and friendly peck on his cheek before arising from the sofa and making her way to the kitchen.

Y/n’s seemingly foolproof plan to hook up with David was in action, as she stood in the doorway to the cramped kitchen making eyes at him across the room, smiling seductively. David wasn’t necessarily the sort of guy y/n would usually go for, but he would do, and most importantly, it would serve Gavin right for being such a dick all week.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know Miss y/l/n would be here tonight, to what do I owe the pleasure?” David smirked, leaning against the doorframe nonchalantly.

“well you can start with a jack and coke” she grinned back, biting her lip and laying it on as thick as possible.

“your wish is my command”

y/n knew this dance, she’d done it plenty of times before. Twirl your hair, bat your eyelashes, pretend to give a shit about football, grind a little on the dancefloor, and before you know it, you’ve got yourself a nice no-strings-attached stress reliever. Piece of cake.

“wow and they let you have the penalty kick? That’s soooo funny” She feigned laughter, touching his arm lightly.

Tired from pretending that David was at all interesting to talk to, y/n pulled him towards the front room, where people had began to dance. Leant up against a back wall, watching bitterly and ignoring his friends, was Gavin. He’d worn his favourite top, a tight red shirt with the top few buttons undone – a look which y/n had complimented him on before. Sure, he’d been playing hard to get since the last time they saw eachother, but he was hoping that at the night of his party y/n would see how he was dressed and be all over him. Instead, however, to his absolute disdain y/n had completely ignored him and was now dancing with some jackass from his footie club who spent most games on the bench. He tried not to let himself care, but his blood boiled when he saw David whisper something in y/n’s ear.

“so… am I gonna get lucky tonight?” he slurred, drunk and sloppy at this point.

“ugh stop talking, you’re ruining this for me” y/n rolled her eyes. David was attractive enough, but in all honesty his voice was a tad bit grating, and his drunken pawing at her body as they danced was far from sexy.

The pair continued to dance, David too drunk to get the not-so-subtle hint to stop blabbering, as he kept rambling about something that didn’t matter. Gavin, who was practically seething with rage and jealousy at this point, finally decided to do something about it when he saw David’s hand trailing it’s way down to y/n’s ass. Before anyone knew what happening, David had been aggressively shoved to the floor.

“I told you y/n’s off limits” Gavin spat.

“Hey what the fuck is your problem, mate?” David groaned, pulling himself up off the floor.

Y/n put her palm to her face, practically mortified.

“Jesus Christ, Gav, calm your tits” she scolded.

Gavin didn’t stick around to see if David was okay, instead he grabbed y/n by the arm and pulled her out to the garden to talk.

“Gav, what the f-”

“why did you do that?”

“do what?”

“that! In there, parading yourself around with that dipstick like I’m not right in front of you” he spat.

y/n had to hold herself back from laughing in his face, “why the hell do you give a shit? You haven’t said a word to me all week, are we even mates anymore?”

Gavin responded in a way which y/n could have never predicted. Gavin Ellis, the cocky, loudmouth arsehole who had an answer for everything had been rendered speechless. His mouth hung open for a minute, as he blinked slowly, eyebrows furrowing and his brain overheating.

“o-of course we’re still- what, were you actually upset by that?” he finally managed.

“uh, no shit I was upset by it. So what, we make out at the pub and all of a sudden I’m a stranger? Pardon me, but I thought after all these years of friendship I would at least get a heads up before you decide to drop me” y/n rolled her eyes, pulling a cigarette out of her pocket and lighting it. Despite her somewhat feisty exterior, she didn’t like confrontation, it made her anxious, and so she wanted to keep her hands busy.

“DROP YOU?!” Gavin spluttered, “Why would I- Y/n, I would never drop you, I just felt like I should keep my distance because-“ he stopped himself.

“Because what?”

“C’mon y/n, don’t make me say it” Gavin bit his lip and looked away nervously.

“Because what?!”

“Because I’ve got a thing for you, alright?! And I didn’t wanna make an dick out of myself!”

“so… you ignored me altogether?” she asked, her demeanour switching to one of kindness, while still being amazed at Gavin’s stupidity.

“look, it seemed like a better idea in my head”

“I’m sure it did” y/n chuckled, “I can’t say I’ve never considered it, y’know, me ‘n you”

“Really?!” Gavin grinned, his face turning every so slightly pink, “so… do I have a chance?”

Y/n smiled, biting the inside of her lip.

“yeahhhhh, alright. Fuck it, let’s give this a go. But no more playing it cool, and no more drunken nights at the pub, if you’re really serious about me, I wanna be treated like a lady”

Gavin was practically cheesing like an excited kid at this point, never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined things going this well.

“How about I pick you up on Friday for steak and a film?” he winked.

“I think that sounds like a plan” y/n giggled.

As a rule, y/n never kissed on a first date, let alone before it even happened, but she was feeling adventurous, and fuck it, that boundary had already been crossed a week prior. She leaned back on the wall of the house, and placed her hand gently onto the nape of Gavin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

The kiss was surprisingly gentle, Gavin’s hands finding their way around y/n’s waist and holding her tight.

“just FYI,” he mumbled into the kiss, “now that we’re a thing, if I ever catch another bloke dancing with you like that again I’ll deck the cunt” he chuckled.

“Is it bad that I find that hot?” y/n giggled

“not for me it isn’t”

#gavin ellis x reader #the mule gavin #gavin ellis #the mule #the mule 2014 #leigh whannell #angus sampson #x reader #x you #x yn #x f!reader #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #saw blog #adam stanheight

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ourolite2 · 5 months

Text

ᨳິ petites idées!　　sfw & suggestive black chongyun.　reader gender unspecified, slight physical teasing. also, bahamian slang was used which i hope was applied properly bcs i am not bahamian LMAO. please do correct any with accuracy if i'm wrong! ༄

•　 chongyun is from the CARIBBEAN. he is BAHAMIAN. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! therefore i'm certain he knows variations of creole spoken in the bahamas, such as bahamian creole and haitian creole. however, his accent and his usage of the language grow in prominence when he code switches specifically. otherwise, his accent is subtle and only heightens when excited or uses an expression. nigga stepped back in surprise and went "mudda sick!"

•　 side note, chongyun also prefers oils like peppermint and eucalyptus because of their heat-defying properties. get too close and you’ll have a breath of fresh air from anywhere above his neck with the slightest whiff. i’d argue that this adds onto his natural scent and repels demonic energy from him, making his duties as an exorcist nothing but effortless.

•　 this is not only my theory but neso’s as well, that high temperatures of weather provoke unbridled frustration, while a high degree in spice provokes his code switch into a more slang-embedded and chatty persona, regardless of the emotion with this linguistic swap. high temperatures in the aspect of becoming overly flustered or anxious would result in stereotypical lightskin ass behavior. symptoms include smooth and failed rizz, leaning against a nearby wall, nodding upward in a 'sup' motion with a sweet smile, and other laughter-bellyache inducing antics.

•　 under the same subject, arousal can also cause certain emotions since.. other parts would become more heated than anticipated. this does not result in smooth behavior, but rather improper use of slang and a few mumbles of "goddamn" or "gyat" to himself. he is not smooth, he's adorable! uh-- well... unless it's hot outside while such occurs. then he'd come off more embarrassed with an attitude due to his ineptness to hold eye contact, in addition to how much he's stuttering and fidgeting in your presence. hm... this is still pretty cute tho, isn't it?

•　 y'know, there's so much black cuisine beyond soul food, but to start off with such chongyun's favorite sides would be potato salad, banana pudding, and deviled eggs because they're delectably served cold of course. as for other types of black cuisine, specifically bahamian or just caribbean, he likes conch salad, johnny cake with some vanilla icecream, crab rice served at room temperature, and despite his sensitivity to heat, chongyun can certainly exalt freshly made plantain fufu with various kinds of soups. also, if his environment is colder his emotions are less chirpy, allowing him to prefer being more composed and chill (pun intended), therefore warmer foods become considerably more tolerable for his yang energy to handle.

•　 you uh.. you guys know how he has those calming herbs in his popsicles for his yang energy? well.... what if he smoked those herbs to calm down? y'know how he doesn't come off aggressively and he's a chill sweetie? well.. imagine he's miffed and just reaches for one of his joints...

•　 okay, okay. let me close off by saying i looooove the pretty blue theme for chongyun's character, especially in his natural features, meaning his hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. his clothes matching is just a perfect plus. he'd have three strand twists done in his hair as his day-to-day style as well as his favorite style. the contrast of light blue to his gingerbread cheeks and tawny forehead is so eye-catching, radiating soft, approachable energy. assuming xinqiu is also black here, he definitely re-twists chongyun's hair for him sometimes; this is because doing it himself can make chongyun too hot, since wash days are a workout and a half. he'll have to constantly take a popsicle break til' he runs himself dry. if not xinqiu, however, y/n can lend a comb and a few hours, right?

꒰꒰　　Fifteen minutes after washing and conditioning the lapis exorcist's head of hair, Y/n was confined to numbing their body by sitting in the same position as they moisturized his detangled spirals and corkscrew curls from the ends up. T'was doubtless that the young man was unfazed and emotionally pacified by the massage of cold-pressed cream and peppermint oil to his scalp and ends. Chongyun sighed in delight behind closed, mocha lips, ever appreciative to have someone so amply amiable to assist him with this monthly test of his sanity. "Dunno how I'd do this without you, Y/n. I admire your skill and precision, ‘cause Lapis knows I physically can't fuc-.. can't function..."

Y/n peered from behind him with a velvet grin, taking pride in being so adored for their charitableness. Even so, they were rather rushed and absentminded in their pursuit to deliver succor before Chongyun blew a fuse on his own, so they had no medicinal popsicles on hand to subdue his yang energy's lingering emotional outburst.

Thus, Y/n hummed patiently in response to his subtle agitation layered in clouds of gratitude. "Hmm? No, no, your skill and precision out-rival mine in many things, baby blue. You're an exceptional exorcist for one, aren't you?"

Y/n's words were warmhearted enough, in fact, to cause a drought upon any venom brooding beneath his furrowed expression. Continuing massaging his scalp with the eucalyptus now coating their fingertips earned them another exhale of relief from the miffed munchkin. Alas, this relief was faulty and short-lived, unlike the addictively euphonious voice beginning to toy with his muddled mind.

Y/n leaned further down so that their chest was pressed to the back of Chongyun's head, followed by tilting his head back enough to face them. They endowed a silken kiss to his now ever-more baked forehead, leaving one hand to caress the front of his neck and the other to hold onto his lower cheek and chin. With how his eyes could only widen in a failed quip, his plump lips parting and spreading into a naturally flustered smile, you'd think he must feel heavenly against Y/n's spread thighs. However, the opposite was evident, as his body's temperature began to rise and only increased with Y/n's giggles in response to his adorable reaction.

'Poor cute little thing.' Y/n mused, with their widened lips stuck in that gorgeous upturned setting. Their hand placement was all the more amusing (to them at least) as Chongyun breathed out an incoherent 'damn' under their touch, denying himself any further vulgarities as they continued kneading their fingers onto him and trailing their nails across his sensitive skin, goosebumps present and halfway-completed hair neglected.

"Don't start with your failed, flirty antics on me either, baby blue.. Just enjoy me like this, I'll fix your head momentarily."　　꒱꒱

⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

Text

Eyeliner

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes - @allhailqueenolivia

Prompt: #18 Scenarios - A doing B's makeup

TW: None!

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 1190

A/N: A is Elvis + B is the reader! i hope y'all enjoy :) also this is definitely 100% based on the clip from the montage where Elvis does Priscilla's eyeliner bye why is that so attractive???

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Ugh!!” you groan, slamming the eyeliner pencil down onto the bathroom counter.

You reach for the face towel again, wetting it and leaning toward the mirror so you can see well enough to carefully remove the hideous smudge that you just made. Your hands shake just the smallest bit as you blink away tears of frustration.

“You doin okay in here?”

You glance up the mirror to see the reflection of your husband leaning against the doorframe to the bathroom. You shake your head and scoff.

“I just can’t get this stupid eyeliner to work. It keeps smudging and the lines are all uneven. And now I’m gonna have to redo basically my entire face because I’ve accidentally erased half of the white paint trying to fix it,” you complain, dropping the rag onto the counter and staring hopelessly down at the disheveled mess of makeup scattered around you.

You’re trying to get ready for a Halloween costume party. You and Elvis are going as vampires. While Elvis neglected to go for the full look with face paint and makeup and everything, you never half-ass your costumes. You bought the whole shebang: white face paint, sponges, eyeliner, and adhesive fangs. You’re all good to go…if you could just get this stupid makeup to work right.

“I’m sure it ain’t that bad. Lemme see ya.”

You see Elvis approaching out of the corner of your eye, his massive black figure a shadow in your peripherals. You heave a sigh as his hands come to rest on your shoulders. He gently squeezes the tender muscles between your neck and shoulder and rests his chin on top of your head. Your eyes flick up to the mirror and you gaze at your husband through the glass. He smiles, his eyes running up and down your figure in the mirror. You quirk an eyebrow, wondering what he sees. He gently rotates you, holding you out at arms-length so he can assess the damage. You sniff, embarrassed by your inability to get the job done. His fingers wrap gently around your jaw, turning your face from side to side. He stares down at you, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful shining blue eyes.

“Ah that can be fixed, darlin,” he says. “Come ‘ere.”

He pats the toilet seat. You sit, the itchy black material of your costume scratching your thighs. Elvis rummages around, gathering some materials before he drops to his knees between your legs. You shift so that he can fit between your thighs. He snatches up the white face paint and dabs a sponge into it, raising it up to your skin. You close your eyes as he gently pats the liquid all over your face. Then, he takes some white powder to set it. You squeeze your eyes shut as it dusts around your face.

“Open for me, doll.”

You open your eyes, eyelashes fluttering to flick away the stubborn clumps of powder. Elvis smiles and nods, looking satisfied with his work.

“How did you know to do that? Use the powder, I mean?”

While you ask your question, he reaches for the eyeliner pencil and twists it so that the tiny black tip emerges from the capsule.

“Baby, you're forgettin that I’m in showbusiness,” he says with a smirk. You giggle and lean forward so that he can see your eyes better.

His fingers firmly wrap around your jawbone and he tilts your head up. Your vision is naturally lifted to the ceiling but you sneak a glance down at him as he gently rests the side of his palm against your cheekbone. He carefully and gingerly swipes the eyeliner pencil along your waterline. You try not to blink, the soft pencil tickling your eyelashes. You can’t help a smile as it spreads across your face.

“What’re ya smilin at?” Elvis pulls back and you glance down at him, gigglings rising into your chest.

“Nothing. Just you,” you reply, biting the corner of your mouth.

“Well stop it,” he jokes, shaking his head. “You gonna mess me up.”

You look back up to the ceiling as he returns to his diligent work. Out of your peripherals, you watch him scoot closer to you and tilt his head as he concentrates on getting the lines just right. His hand comes to a gentle pause by the edge of your eye. You glance down at him, wondering what’s wrong. He’s staring up at you, his eyes trained intensely on yours. There’s a tiny crease on his forehead from his concentration. You want to reach out and smooth it over but you can't move.

“What?” you ask, suddenly worried something’s gone terribly wrong. Elvis just shakes his head and smirks.

“Nothin. Just you,” he says and you smirk as a quiet chuckle escapes your lips.

His fingers tighten on your jaw and his eyes flick down to your lips and stay there for a few seconds before he leans in, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You kiss him back immediately, bending forward to rest your hands on his shoulders. The hand that was holding the eyeliner pencil lowers and then returns to cup your jawline and neck. His fingers wrap around the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. You slide forward just a little on the smooth toilet seat, gripping onto the velvety fabric of his vampire cape. One of his hands falls to your thigh, squeezing your skin through the black dress. You accidentally moan quietly into the kiss and then start to laugh, your lips slipping from his.

“Hey, listen, I know you don’t wanna wear makeup, but you need at least one thing,” you say, leaning over to reach for the deep red lipstick you’d picked to match your costume.

You also grab the handheld mirror from your makeup bag and lift it up, gently swiping the lipstick around your lips. You place them both down and giggle, glancing at Elvis with a mischievous expression. He tilts his head to the side, shooting you a confused look.

You slide your fingers onto his neck and into his slicked-back black hair. You lean forward and press your lips to his again, kissing him exactly once before dragging your lips to the side of his mouth and nudging them against his skin to spread around the red material. You can feel his fingers tighten on your thigh as you drag your lips down his neck, nipping gently at the skin there. You pull back with a satisfied smirk pasted on your face. Elvis looks shocked, his eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Not exactly blood but close enough. It looks alright,” you say, placing your hands on his.

He lifts his fingers up and intertwines them with yours, squeezing your fingers. He smirks at you before running a tongue over his canines.

“On second thought, maybe I will wear them teeth,” he responds, raising your finger to his lips to give your fingertip a soft bite.

“Well, Count Presley, you have permission to turn me anytime.”

He raises his eyebrows and you giggle as you lean forward for another kiss.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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#elvis #elvis 2022 #milasthings #milaselviscontent #milasfics #milaselvisfics #spoopy szn 2022

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maple-the-awesome · 2 years

Text

Blind Bindi ||

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 1,152

Overview: Matt knows you well...A little too well. While you normally wouldn't complain, it can play against you when you're trying to sneak a 'houseguest' into the apartment.

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"What do you have there?"

Matt knows the answer. Hell, he knew the answer before you even entered the apartment. That's why he had already been standing there with crossed arms and a tapping foot, fully intending on catching you by surprise when you tried to sneak in through the front door.

Despite being aware of his enhanced senses and ability to read you like an open book, you decide to play dumb and keep it a secret from your boyfriend, slowly shutting the door before innocently fluttering your eyelashes his way.

“Is that how you welcome back your girlfriend of three long years? How about a 'hi, sweetheart. Did you have a good day at work'?"

Matt rolls his eyes mockingly," hi sweetheart. Did you have a good day at work?"

"Not really, no. I had heaps of paperwork that I spilled coffee all over...Besides, you know my days are always boring until I get to come home to my handsome and amazing boyfriend in whom I adore so so much.”

Stretching on your toes, you press a kiss to his cheek but make sure to keep your body leaned further away which isn't an action gone unnoticed especially when you quickly pull back once he tries to wrap his arms around your waist. Alas, he manages to grab hold of your wrists, holding you gently in place.

"Did you gain some weight while at work?" He wears a stupid smirk on his face, poking the soft 'fat' of your stomach which he knows for a fact wasn't there this morning. Fat also doesn't squirm when poked.

"Well, you know I love my secretary's cookies. I practically ate the whole plate which means I should really get to the kitchen and grab something healthy to eat, so if you'll excuse me, Mr. Murdock, I- mmm," your words are cut off when Matt's lips capture yours.

It almost makes him chuckle to hear your heartbeat increase; and not in the normal drunken love sort of way. It's adorable and a part of him is tempted to grant you mercy by stepping aside, curious to find out how the rest of your half-baked plan will play out. Of course, it’s fun to just flat out tease you, too.

Your lips part enough for him to breath out your name, his thumbs rubbing soothingly over the soft skin of your lower arms before you finally groan in defeat.

Stepping away from your boyfriend, you unzip your coat part of the way to stubbornly reveal a fluffy cat hiding there rather calmly. The sleepy creature pokes its head out with a yawn before perking its ears up, taking in its new surroundings.

"...Her name is Bindi..." You sound so deflated.

"And why did you bring 'Bindi' home?" Matt raises an eyebrow, taking your delayed answer as a sign that you're currently puffing out your bottom lip while trying to think of a good argument.

"Okay so like, there was this pet adoption day they were doing in the work building and I wasn’t even considering adopting anything, but I also can't just say 'no' to petting a bunch of cute doggies and kitties so I went down during my lunch break and- pet her Mattie!" You practically leap in front of him, using your arms to keep the cat secure to your chest while also leaning her close enough for him to pet.

Hesitatingly he does, noting she has typically soft cat fur,” sweetheart-"

"-But that's not all! Matt, do you know what her full name is?"

He presses his lips together.

"Matt, guess what her full name is?"

"...What's her full n-?"

"-Blind Bindi! She's blind- like you!" You're beaming, figuring yourself to be so damn clever and cute and God is it killing Matt.

“She just came right over to me- walked past everyone else and just curled onto my lap as if it were fate; like she could sense how good I am with adorable blind things!"

Matt curses the way the corner of his lip twitches.

"One thing led to another and I was suddenly sitting back in my office with this little brown cat- she's a brown tabby- sleeping on my lap. I know I should've called you first to ask and I know you always say no seeing eye dogs, but hear me out: she's not a dog and she can't see, and you never said no blind eye cats.”

You remove Bindi from your coat, cuddling her close to yourself with a finger pointed towards Matt accusingly as if you've just tripped him with the greatest defense he's ever heard throughout his entire career of law...and he must admit it was pretty good.

Running his knuckle over the top of Bindi's head, Matt purposely takes his time thinking when feeling your eyes burning holes in him with anticipation.

"Blind Bindi?"

"Bind Bindi."

"And you said she's a tabby?"

You hold her against your cheek," yep! A brown one. That way I can have two brunettes. I’m collecting, you see.”

“No, I can’t,” he states matter of factly, making you huff,”...and you love her already, don't you?"

"Not as much as I love the man standing in front of me. He’s impossible to compete with, in fact Bindi and I already had ‘the talk’ to make sure she understands. No matter how snuggly she is, Mattie’s number one snuggle buddy always and forever,” once again, you flutter your eyelashes, hoping he can hear it along with the happy purring from Bindi. Indeed he does.

Sighing dramatically, he heads back into the kitchen yet that quiet chuckle that soon follows tells you he’s just putting on an act. Padding after him, you hover over his shoulder while watching him return to cooking dinner, doing your best to be patient, although it’s a difficult feat when you can see the corner of his smirk.

"...So, can she stay?"

Humming, Matt puts on his best lawyer voice while stirring the spaghetti noodles," after carefully considering the evidence presented, the court has decided to rule in favor of 'Blind Bindi' staying at the Murdock residences, however, she will be prohibited from taking Mr. Murdock's place as Mrs. Murdock's favorite 'blind thing' and ‘snuggle buddy’.”

You smile ear-to-ear at this, finally setting down Bindi to free your arms for the goal of throwing them around your boyfriend, squeezing him tightly with a squeal of joy," thank you!"

Matt smiles himself, turning around to wrap his arms snugly around your waist and pull you to his chest. Once again, his lips finds yours, enjoying the way your heartbeat follows its normal routine of beating lively with admiration; a sound he can never quite get tired of not that he ever wants to.

Playing with Bindi on the couch, you suddenly drop the old shoelace you've been dangling and look over to Matt as he sets the table," wait, did you call me 'Mrs. Murdock' earlier?"

…Well, you’re not the only one in this relationship who’s terrible at hiding secrets…

#matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil x reader #daredevil #fluff #x reader #reader insert #marvel

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