#and now i think the fuck word is like top five most used words in my vocabulary and im not religious anymore. character growth
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thanks to @ninzied for the tag!
How many works do you have on ao3?
120!
What's your total ao3 word count?
1,371,932
What fandoms do you write for?
RWRB, TMFU, Lokius
Top five fics by kudos:
Please Don't Let Me Be So Understood
Nova, Baby
Class(room) Warfare
All the Old Showstoppers
Always Where I Need To Be
Do you respond to comments?
I try. I used to be very good at responding but my backlog has gotten extreme (1491 unanswered comments as of right now, if you're curious) so at this point I pretty much only answer if it's a chapter in an ongoing multichap, or someone asks a question.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I have a caradin fic that's straight up a break-up fic with no resolution, but I still feel like my angstiest is probably Black Moon (napollya), because they're in love but the situation is so fucking bleak. Sorry guys.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Any of them that end with a proposal lol? I've got a lot of fluffy fics and all of my long fics end with pure fluff, so I don't think I could pick out one.
Do you get hate on fics?
I have been lucky not to really get any, at least lately. I've gotten... less than polite comments, of course, but no outright hate (knock on wood).
Do you write smut?
Yes, although I would not say it's an integral part of my writing tbh.
Craziest crossover:
Craziest might be Maybe, This Time, which is a Mandalorian/BSG crossover that involves dimension-hopping lol.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! I've had a few of my TMFU works translated and now there's someone in the RWRB fandom that translates most (!!) of my fics into Mandarin, which is mind blowing and flattering and I'm so grateful because I've gotten comments from people who have read them translated and loved them.
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet!
All time favorite ship?
I don't think I can pick one; some of my past ships are just that—past—but there are a few I will carry in my heart forever.
What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
If I want to finish it, I will, even if it takes a long time. I might stop wanting to finish a wip, but that's not the question is it?
What are your writing strengths?
Banter/dialogue, action, pacing, plots. People have told me that they can picture my scenes like a movie because of the description and that makes me feel good.
What are your writing weaknesses?
Although I have my moments, I don't really tend to think of my writing as beautiful. I'm just not that poetic/lyrical.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
Sure! If it's in my own fic I usually have a native speaker look over it (I haven't done this lately but I have gotten Russian consults for TMFU fics).
First fandom you wrote in?
Xena: Warrior Princess, back when that show was airing. Fanfic primarily distributed over internet mailing lists and posted on your own website.
Favorite fic you've written?
Stealing Nina's idea and doing one in each of my main fandoms I've written in because it's hard to pick (even then this was rough).
Nova, Baby Series—Spy AU, Firstprince
Love is a Losing Game—Chess AU, Napollya (SHOCKER I KNOW)
What Makes a Good Man Series—Spy AU, Lokius
Here It Goes Again—The Mandalorian (Caradin but mostly Din character study in a time loop)
I'm not sure who's been tagged and who hasn't or even everyone who has done this, but a few tags below the cut. If you'd like to do it, jump in!
@kiwiana-writes, @rmd-writes, @three-drink-amy, @cricketnationrise, @14carrotghoul
@leaves-of-laurelin, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @inexplicablymine, @firenati0n, @liminalmemories21
@orchidscript, @sparklepocalypse, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @mirilyawrites, @heytheredeann
@nicijones, @justabigoldnerd, @myheartalivewrites
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i know my anxiety is irrational and comprised of previous negative experiences instead of an accurate prediction of the future bc it still tries to make me feel bad about objectively funny things that no longer even align with my morals as a person
#did i ever tell yall abt how im the reason a choir i was in couldnt post a nice video. i singlehandedly ruined it#they were recording us reacting to the big revelation of where we would be going on our choir trip next year and we were HYPED UP#or at least i was. they were dragging it out and i was super excited#finally after 3 separate speeches and like 10mins of buildup (im not kidding) they told us we were going to...#literal drum roll. a guy in the drum section of the brass band was doing a drum roll. really funny guy i remember he was cool#... toronto!! (this was very exciting i had never been to toronto and i love getting to travel anywhere new)#and everyone was reacting positively and i loudly went 'OH MY GOD' bc i was excited#now the thing is. i had been trying not to swear anymore bc i felt like i did it too much (i was deep in religion at this point in my life#(the worst thing i would ever say was hell and that felt like a slur) (i was miserable 24/7 bc i had such high standards for myself)#and the other thing is. this was a church choir. we were IN the sanctuary at the time#multiple people turned to GLARE/stare at me and istg i felt smth inside me die a little i was beyond mortified#and i know they were recording our reaction bc i saw multiple people doing it. but no video was ever posted in the end 😭#i know 100% that was my fault bc i am very loud. you could absolutely hear me on that video + nobody else had that huge reaction#anyway. in the moment i was embarrassed but nowadays its so funny considering how i and those people turned out#i didnt even go on that trip i dropped out of the choir 3mos later bc i hated it there lmao#levi.txt#and now i think the fuck word is like top five most used words in my vocabulary and im not religious anymore. character growth#im nice to people and not weirdly judgemental abt whether their choices fit my moral standards#and most importantly of all im reasonably happy these days bc i dont try to make myself act like someone im not all the time!#i cant believe my brain still pulls that memory out sometimes to try and make me feel bad bc it just. does not work anymore
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maybe a lil fic with steve yk like he thinks you're together but r just thinks that they're just friends cuz she thinks he acts that way with everyone (he doesn't). so when he's like "we're going on that dinner date, right?" and she's just so confused and flabbergasted "since when did we start dating??"
I've missed your writing on my dashboard ily<3
i’m glad someone misses my writing. i hope this is okay🩷
steve harrington x fem!reader (this ended up being long… i’m shocked)
masterlist
“here comes loverboy.”
your brows pinched together at max’s words. looking over your shoulder to see steve leaving the register, heading back towards your booth with a pastel pink box in hand.
the boy slid into the open seat beside you. shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. his warmth radiating off his body blankets you from the february chill that seeps into the diner’s walls.
“what’s in the box?” robin questioned while making a grab for it. steve quickly slapped- gently tapped- the approaching hand away. robin making a scene for no one.
“not for you, buckley. for my favorite girl.” and steve looked directly at you.
“aw, thanks steve-o.” max fawned. a simple giggle slipped from your mouth while steve rolled his eyes. “not for you either, rugrat. only for my favorite, most special girl.” finally sliding the pastry box in front of you.
steve tapped his fingers against the table top, “they had your go-tos so i got one of each.” your cheeks warmed as you opened the top, “you didn’t have to, stevie.”
“yeah, stevie. what about us?” robin pointed between her and max, a twisted pout to her face.
steve eyed them, “what about you two? get your own stuff.” huffing like they were insane to think steve would do anything of that level for them.
eyeing the different options you grabbed a donut and proceeded to spilt the item into four small bites. handing off two for max and robin, replacing them with another two, one for you and the other for steve. hand waiting for steve, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist delicately as he bites into his awaiting treat. you chuckle at the silliness.
“you too are gross.” robin declared with her mouth full. steve copied her actions, “says you. close your mouth while chewing.” placing his hand over his mouth in after thought.
“so,” speaking up to change the subject, “any nice plans this week?” referring to valentine’s day on wednesday.
“lucas says he’s taking me some place special, which might be the arcade.” max played it cool but you could tell it affected her in a good way.
“band practice is my special valentine. can’t complain too much.” robin punctuated her sentence with a sip of water.
“what’s the dynamic duo gonna do on the day of love?” max teased, batting her lashes while cupping her cheeks.
you shrugged, “don’t think we have plans-“ “yes we do.” steve is quick to fix you misunderstanding.
there was a surprised spark in your eyes, “we do?”
steve’s brows furrowed, “yeah. i told you about the dinner date i scheduled.” now your bows scrunched, “yeah, but i thought you were going on a date.”
steve leaned towards you, “i am. with you.” punctuation on those two words, letting every letter hit you in the face.
you sat shell shocked, eyes focused over steve’s shoulder while robin and max almost jumped from their vinyl seats.
“for real?” “since when were you dating?”
at the word dating you shook away any incoming thoughts and waves away their curiosity. “we’re not dating. we’re just friends. steve’s like this with everyone.” knowing that would end any discussion.
three sets of eyes stared you down, you wanted to shrink into the ground from the attention. “what?” a squeak at their baring eyes.
“steve is only sugary sweet to you. do you not remember five minutes ago? when he bought you treats, without you asking, then told me and max to fuck off.” robin questioned.
“language-“ “i didn’t say that-“
max waved you both off, “whatever. what robin is trying to get at is, you are dating. steve openly flirty banters with you, you reciprocate in a flustered mess, and steve has hearts beaming from his corneas.” max’s palms smack onto the table.
your mouth opened, then closed. open, close, open, close. “i just,” you hands flapped about, “i- i thought he just- you know…”
“no we don’t, but please, tell us.” robin eyed you wolfishly.
anxiously you pinched the skin around your fingers, teeth biting into your bottom lip, eyes darting everywhere not knowing what your next move was.
“alright, enough teasing. let’s just get everyone home.” steve broke the silence. sliding out beside you then holding a waiting hand out, you couldn’t help but just to stare at it, like it might bite you or something.
“it’s alright, sweetheart. we’ll talk later.” soft, kind filled brown eyes watched your movements as you set your palm to his and he help you exit the booth smoothly. steve gave a squeeze before releasing his hold and your chest felt heavy again.
he called you sweetheart. he usually throws pet names about, but this one just felt… different. your brain connected to it differently.
robin and max were silent on the drive to their houses, radio at medium volume, but they kept the backseat of the bmw silent as a church mouse.
you could barely look steve’s way, barely glance at him from your peripheral. he didn’t seem tense from your words just… dejected. a gloomy cloud hanging over his head and it’s because you friend zoned him while he thought you both were together.
no chance he wants to be with you now, blew it for yourself before you even had a proper chance. you wallow in silence.
robin was the first to be dropped off. steve came to a slow stop in front of her tiny house, shifting into park so he could look back with a gentle smile, “call if you need anything. and try not to do anything clumsy.”
robin rolled her eyes in a playful manner, “i’ll try not to dad.” and she left with a comforting squeeze of your bicep.
steve waited until robin waved you off an closed her front door. “okay mayfield, home or someplace else?” he always asked when driving her.
“umm, wheeler’s. please.” yeah, she felt sorry about earlier. her please and thank you’s were a bit sparring.
again silence. you wanted to speak, but with max still in the car you held your tongue. pinching at the material of your jeans while eyeing the scenery passing by in a blur, you couldn’t help flinching at the touch of skin covering your own. you looked down cautiously to see steve’s right hand resting over your fidgeting one, stopping your mindless action.
the fifteen minute drive pasted into two minutes when you saw the big two story home come into view. you saw a couple of bikes laying in the front yard and suspected the boys also were invading the family home.
“thanks for the ride. i’ll be fine to get home later.” shuffling mixed with her words before popping the left back door open. a soft thud followed her exit then she stopped outside your window and lightly tapped.
you rolled it down with concern at her sorrow filled expression. “i’m sorry. about earlier. i wasn’t trying to-“
“max,” cutting her off, “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean harm and plus, might’ve opened my eyes today.” playing coy with your words.
a smile flickered at her lips while her eyes looked over your shoulder. she left with a pep to her step and you were finally alone with your steve.
“so wanna-“ “did you really think we weren’t dating?”
you could help your light chuckle, “getting straight to the point i see.”
steve sputtered, “i just- it felt like we’ve been on multiple dates. and- and we’re very touchy with each other, always there for each other. i just- i just thought we were dating after the trip to chicago.”
that did turn into a pretty romantic trip now that you thought back on certain scenarios. “i think i’m just blind to romantic advances. didn’t think i was your type.” mumbling the last part.
you’ve seen the girls steve’s been with in the past. all perfect, petite, not quite hair out of place and makeup painted over delicate skin. you weren’t those things, you were messy at times, flyaways sticking up from nonexistent static, stains appearing on your clothes without knowing.
you didn’t deserve steve, he deserved someone-
“hey.” a finger crooked under your chin and moved your head from its slumped position. steve homely brown eyes darted over your face, your imperfections. you wanted to flinch away. he must’ve read your mind since her cupped your cheeks with his warm palms.
“you are none of those things i know your thinking too much about. you are completely deserving of being loved deeply and i’m happy to be that person to pour his soul into yours. if you’ll verbally say yes so we’re on the same page this time.”
your own hands wandered to hold onto steve’s wrist, “that was quite romantic of you. didn’t think of you to be a sap.” deflecting a bit from nerves.
steve smiled brightly, “for you i’ll always be a sap. practically turn into honey for you.” leaning over his console to press a kiss onto the tip of your nose. “so what do you say, wanna give us a proper go?”
you bit into your bottom lip, “i guess i could try.” smiling so wide your cheeks ached as steve dotted kisses over your face, not suppressing your giggles of glee.
#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#stranger things imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x female!reader#erin's blurb request
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crying at night thinking about protective!joel getting angry when he finds out that you’ve started getting close to another man living in the boston QZ. and tess calling him out on his jealousy and obvious attraction to you.
tess to the rescue -- tesscue if you will
Looking
Joel Miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
He doesn't like the way she flirts with all their customers. But he's not jealous. No, definitely not jealous.
warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, smutty implications, sexual harassment
.............................
“Since when is she running deals for us?”
“Since all the feds like customer service with a smile.”
“Tess.”
“Is there a problem, Joel?” He grunts, taking one more look at her, the easy smile she’s giving the guard as she flicks some of her hair out of her eyes. He knows her well enough to know she’s putting on a show for this guy, and it makes his blood boil. Tess steps in front of him, blocking his view.
“Hey, is there a problem?” She enunciates each word slowly and clearly, obvious irritation in her voice. He shakes his head with a huff.
“No– no problem. Just don’t come to me when she gets herself killed by one of these fucking guards.” He shoves off the brick wall he had been leaning against, trudging off toward their apartment, not bothering to glance over to where she’s still playing it up to the guy.
He tells himself that the only reason he’s pissed is that he still doesn’t trust her, the new addition to his and Tess’ smuggling operation, and he doesn’t want her pocketing pay behind their backs. But as the weeks go by of this new set-up, it becomes clear that he doesn’t need to worry about that. Whatever extra sweetness the FEDRA guards throw into their trades with her, she’s sure to share it with him and Tess. It had taken every ounce of his willpower not to laugh in elation when she brought home a bag of coffee the other day, offering it to him with the same smile she was giving to all their customers. Joel has no reason to be so pissed, so cold to her, at least no reason that he’d like to consider. Tess, however, seems to think otherwise.
“You keep staring like that and you’re gonna burn a hole through the back of her head.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tess snorts, nudging his shoulder with hers where they’re standing a bit further down the alley, both of them watching her finish another deal with another guard.
“Joel, we’ve been partners for what– five years now? In all that time I’ve never seen the look you get when you’re looking at her so maybe cut the bullshit, yeah? Because she thinks that you hate her.” He scoffs, toeing his boots into the cracked asphalt.
“Don’t hate her– I just– don’t like the way she acts– with these boys. She’s gonna get herself– I don’t know– jesus– will you just drop it?” Tess puts her hands up as if in surrender, a smirk that’s all too smug for Joel’s taste stamped across her face as she shuffles out of the alley. He settles back against the wall with a sigh, keeping his eyes fixed on her and the guard. How long does it take to trade some fucking pills?
She’s good at what she does, Joel will give her that, letting out breathy giggles as the guard smiles at her, running her hand down his forearm before waggling her fingers at him as she turns to leave, the bright facade she had been using immediately falling away as she looks to Joel with a firm but subtle nod. He presses off the wall as she falls into step beside him, both of them weaving through the crowded streets of the QZ back to the apartment building. She lives a door down from him, their proximity was what had originally drawn her into their business, but most of her time is spent in his apartment now, working out new deals and supply chains with Tess.
“Extra ration cards on top of the agreed on payment. And a date. But I’m not sharing that perk with you, Miller.” He huffs at her teasing, keeping his eyes focused on counting out the cards as he slumps down onto the musty sofa in his apartment. Tess is nowhere to be found, most likely off running some sort of scheme elsewhere in the QZ.
“Hardly call that a perk, darlin. Don’t know why you even entertain those boys. Ain’t nothing but trouble.” She sighs, tilting her head to rest on her shoulder as she looks at him.
“Those boys happen to have A-one access to any and all supplies you could possibly want. You can scowl all you want, Miller, but it pays to be on their good side.”
“Well then, when’s this date of yours?”
“Tonight, don’t wait up, Miller.” He scoffs, muttering a low “wouldn’t dream of it” as she’s already walking out the door.
…
“Joel, what the fuck are you doing? You’ve been standing at that window all night.” His head whips around, grimacing at Tess before he promptly goes back to scouring the darkened streets outside his window.
“It’s late. She should be home by now.” Tess scoffs.
“Oh please. You just don’t want to consider that maybe she’s not home because she’s getting laid right now. I say good for her, getting some action and some more supplies in one fell swoop.” Joel doesn’t like the sound of that at all, Tess’ words moving him away from the window to grab his jacket and head for the front door.
“What’re you doing now?” He glances at her over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.
“I’m glad you think this is funny, really. But I don’t. I’m going to look for her.” He closes the door before he can hear Tess’ exasperated exclamation.
“Fucking lovesick fool.”
…
He’s not sure where he should be looking, quickly realizing how stupid this is. It’s past curfew, so he sticks to the alleyways, ducking under the bright lights of the patrol cars whenever they roll by. He makes it a few blocks away from their apartment building before the reality of how foolish he’s being sets in. Just as he’s getting ready to turn heel back home, his ears prick to a shuffling sound coming from deeper down the alley. He moves toward the sound, sliding along one of the walls of the alley to stay in the shadows. His stomach twists when he hears a voice.
“C’mon, baby. You were so friendly this afternoon. Just let me have a little peek, huh?” Her voice answers, clearly laced with a strained distress.
“Just- just stop. It’s past curfew, what if we get caught?” The man laughs, and it takes everything in Joel not to sprint down the alley and take him out right then.
“You don’t gotta worry about getting caught when you’re with me. I run these streets. Now I suggest you quit being a little bitch and give me what I want.” He finally catches sight of them, dim figures in the outer reaches of a lone streetlamp. The man has her cornered up against the wall of the alley, his hands tugging at her clothes as she tries to push him off.
Joel moves before he can think, and in the blink of an eye, he has the man on the ground, bringing his fist down again and again as rage washes over him. The only thing that finally stops his blind rampage is a firm hand on his shoulder. He takes a shuddering breath, looking down at the man’s now pummeled face, a mess of blood, before looking over his shoulder to meet her watery gaze.
“We need to leave before someone comes looking, c’mon.” Neither of them speak as they hustle through alleys to get back to the apartment, but she holds Joel’s bloodied hand the whole way, tugging him out of his anger-induced haze.
…
“You came looking for me.” Her voice is a faint murmur as she keeps her gaze focused on his hand, daubing at his split knuckles with a damp rag in the bathroom of his apartment. He’s trying not to think too hard about the way she’s kneeling between his legs where he’s sitting on the lip of the bathtub, but his breath still catches when she finally looks up at him.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I was worried about you.”
“What? Joel, you don’t even like me.” He swallows thickly and she huffs at his silence, getting back to work at cleaning his busted hand.
“That’s not true.” Her hands still and she looks up at him again.
“It isn’t?” He shakes his head.
“No, it’s not. I– I like you, I do. What I don’t like is how you act with all those boys. It just– it makes me– fuck, it makes me nervous.” She sits back, fully looking at him, her brows raised in surprise.
“You? Nervous?” He huffs, not missing the crooked ghost of a smirk that spreads over her face.
“Those boys are no good, darlin. It may seem like a game to you– swiping a few extra ration cards here and there with a bat of your eyes– but I’ve seen what they’re capable of. That’s why I went looking for you– because the thought of something– of him– I couldn’t–” His rambles die in his throat when she places her palm on his thigh.
“Thank you, Joel. For– helping me tonight. You were right, at least about this one.” Her eyes fall and Joel feels worry kicking back up in his chest, bringing his hand to her jaw and coaxing her to look at him.
“He didn’t try anything else, did he? Are you– are you alright?” She sighs, but nods, her cheek pressing lightly into his palm.
“I’m fine. Got there just in time, Miller.” His shoulders slump in relief.
“I don’t want you doing deals anymore.” She opens her mouth to protest, but he presses on.
“We do just fine without all the extras. If they want pills so bad they can go through me. Tess has some new connections on the border of Vermont, could use your help mapping a route, I’m guessing. But no more of that cute shit, alright?” She grins, and he immediately regrets that last bit.
“So what I’m hearing is, you like me and you think I’m cute.” He immediately takes his hand away from her face as she laughs, her eyes crinkling up at his grumbling expression.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease–”
“Oh, I think you do, darlin.” That makes her laugh again and Joel has to fight off his own crooked smile. She sighs, taking one more look at his knuckles before standing and tilting her head as she looks at him.
“That’s the best I can do for your hand–” Joel’s breath stutters when she bends over, resting a hand on his shoulder as she brings her lips to his good ear.
“And for the record, I like you too, Miller.” He swallows hard before speaking, worried that his voice might give away more than he’d like it to.
“You do?” She pulls away only slightly, looking him right in the eye as she nods.
“Call me crazy, but I like ‘em a little mean.” It happens so fast, he thinks he’s been electrocuted by the bright zap of her lips smacking a kiss to his cheek. She’s already out the door when he brings his palm to where her lips just were.
Maybe Tess was right.
#joel miller angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel tlou#tlou#tlou fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine
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It’s the last period of the day, and in his peripheral vision, Steve can see Eddie Munson fighting sleep, elbow repeatedly slipping off his desk.
They’re not usually in this class together; a good handful of teachers are on a ‘field trip’—which had been sold to the principal as an educational experience, but was really an excuse for both students and staff to while away the last remaining days of the semester.
So most classes have become an assortment of students who haven’t gone on the trip, odds and ends who usually wouldn’t cross paths.
When Steve had entered, he saw that the room was sparse, people dotted about the place with no regard to a seating plan—he’d headed straight for a desk by the window, hadn’t even noticed that Eddie Munson was in the seat right beside him until he’d already sat down.
And then it turned out he couldn’t even reap the benefits of choosing a seat near said window. The room was stuffy, unbearably so, and Eddie had beaten Steve to it, actually raising his hand and asking, perfectly politely, if he could open the window.
But the substitute teacher had just sneered and replied haughtily, “No, Munson, you cannot.”
Condescending ass, Steve had thought, and he was almost looking forward to one of Eddie Munson’s infamous diatribes.
But Eddie just wilted in his seat and didn’t say another word.
That’s when Steve noticed that he kept looking down at his desk. There was a piece of paper on there, an end of year test—Steve recognised Mrs O’Donnell’s handwriting making comments in the margins. The top right hand corner was folded over in such a way that just made the hiding of the grade all the more obvious: it was clearly an abject fail.
As Eddie stared at the paper, he started to blink rapidly, and for a horrible moment it seemed like he was going to cry, so Steve quickly looked away.
By the time he dared to look back, it was a quarter of the way through the period, and the heat of the room must’ve been getting to Eddie, his eyelids fluttering as he tried not to doze.
And now Steve’s stuck with a teacher who’s clearly immune to every pointed look he shoots his way. He gets to the point where he’s glaring daggers at the dude—seriously, where does he get off, keeping the window closed just to prove some bullshit point about authority?
Every so often, Steve finds himself catching a paper airplane—what are they, five?—that had been heading for Eddie’s face, made by some meathead junior. Steve either swats them away or, if he’s feeling particularly pissy, crumples them up with one hand, throws them back at the junior’s head.
Eddie’s repositioned his elbow so it’s no longer in danger of slipping off the desk—eyes totally closed now, like he’s accepted defeat.
Steve is too late to catch the next paper airplane as it hits the side of Eddie’s head, and when Eddie stirs, blinking blearily at him, he says, defensively, “It wasn’t me.”
“Relax, Harrington,” Eddie says, yawning, “I know.” He unfolds the paper airplane with a tut. “No structural integrity to this thing at all. You’d give me quality.”
Steve doesn’t think of a barbed comment to reply with, because Eddie starts refolding the paper and uses it as a fan—and it’s not even for a bit or anything; Steve can tell that he’s just genuinely suffering.
Movement draws his eyes to the front of the room; he watches as the teacher makes his way to the door and leaves.
“Thank God he’s gone,” Steve mutters. He stands and lifts up the window as far as it will go, hears Eddie’s quiet sigh of relief as the fresh air comes in.
Steve glances over at the door; the paper airplane-throwing junior has gathered a little group, and it looks like they’ve locked the teacher out. There’s no footsteps or furious knocking yet, so Steve figures he’s got a bit of time.
He jumps up onto the window sill to better enjoy the breeze, stretching his legs and idly looking outside.
He just catches Eddie scoffing, the little aside he makes: “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Steve turns his head to him. “What?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “Just… you,” he says.
And it’s said with a kind of reluctant fondness, almost like they’re friends—which is bizarre, Steve thinks, since this is definitely the longest conversation they’ve ever had.
But maybe the approaching summer break has Eddie all sentimental.
“What about me, Munson?”
Eddie gestures at him, as if to say uh, everything, but it somehow doesn’t come across as an insult.
“Just… the way you do things sometimes. Like you’re in a goddamn movie.”
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Dude, I’m just sitting. Anyone could do this.”
“Nah, Harrington. It’s all in the execution, y’know?”
Steve snorts. “Bull.”
“And not all of us have the hair for it.”
Steve tilts his head, drawls, “Oh, I dunno.”
Eddie huffs out a laugh like he’s been taken by surprise.
Steve turns back to the window. It’s not all that great a view, really, the sun only highlighting the dried unkempt grass around the track. Still, there’s an undefinable something to it that gives Steve pause.
Maybe it’s because graduation is right around the corner. Even just walking down the school corridors feels like a series of goodbyes.
“Hey, Harrington. You heard of mise-en-scène?”
And Steve finds himself grinning at the French accent Eddie slips into.
“Bless you,” he says, just to be annoying, though he has heard of it, remembers it from when they looked at some plays in English. Then overheard it, really, while the aspiring film students fretted over their college applications in the library, and he listened with a jealousy he didn’t care to analyse.
“I’m seeing some movie shot stuff here, is all.”Steve looks over again, in time to see Eddie adopt an over-the top trailer voice. “The fallen King—”
“Oh, fuck you.”
“—looks down at what remains of his Kingdom, setting his sights on pastures new.”
A wistful edge creeps into Eddie’s voice, something separate from the theatrics—confirming Steve’s suspicions that he won’t be graduating this year, after all.
“Not exactly pastures new,” Steve says. “I, um, didn’t get into anywhere so.” He shrugs vaguely. “Gotta hold down a summer job and then… I don’t know. Not thought that far ahead yet.”
Eddie seems to consider him. “Nothing wrong with that, Harrington,” he says quietly.
“I know,” Steve replies. Because it’s true; he knows he’ll be far from the first high school graduate staying in Hawkins, working a minimum wage job all summer.
His parents had said as much. But then…
He doesn’t know how to explain that it’s the tone in which they say things rather than the things themselves that sets him on edge. That sometimes just the way they shut doors around him inexplicably prompts a feeling of nausea.
But they’re out of town for the whole summer—already left this morning, thank God. So he’s hardly going to get into all of that with Eddie Munson, of all people. Barely addresses it within himself, honestly.
“It’s just… not really what I pictured,” he says instead. “You know, like…” And maybe Eddie’s theatricality has made him a little bolder, because he looks out at the view, and slips into a brief understated impression with ease: “I'm shakin’ the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I'm gonna see the world.”
When he turns back, Eddie’s lips twitch again, and this time the smile wins. “Well okay, George Bailey.”
Steve smiles back. Shrugs once more. “It’s for the best, really. Means I can keep an eye on—”
And he stops himself, realises he was about to say the kids.
Eddie’s eyes light up with interest. “Oh? So you’ve found someone worth staying for.” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice when he adds, “S’awfully romantic of you, Harrington.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Not like that. But… yeah, you could say so. They’re all worth it.”
“Huh,” Eddie says thoughtfully. “What happened to you, Steve Harrington?”
Steve laughs. Shakes his head. “Life. And, uh, got a thump to the head.”
Eddie whistles lowly. “Damn. Maybe I should try that.” He glances down at his test, frowning.
“Hey, come on. Everyone loves a comeback kid.”
“Hmm. Not everyone.”
Eddie sighs and stuffs the test into his bag. As he does so, there’s a sudden pounding on the door, and Steve hears some of the students break out into whispers that are so loud they might as well be shouting: discussing their plan to pin the blame on Eddie for locking the teacher out.
Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s soon leaving high school behind that has Steve viewing all of this with a clarity he can’t remember having a few years ago. They’re just mean, he thinks, just plain mean for the sake of it. Jesus Christ, you don’t kick a guy while he’s down.
Eddie’s eyes dart over to the group. He’s clearly overheard them too, but he seems resigned to it, like he’s got no more fight left in him.
A girl unlocks the door, and the teacher storms inside, apoplectic with rage.
And before anyone can get a word in, Steve says, “It was me. I locked the door.”
He can feel Eddie staring at him. He leans more into his lounging on the window sill, pretends to check his nails.
The teacher’s eye twitches. “And may I ask, Harrington,” he seethes, “what would even possess you to—”
“Oh,” Steve says, faux brightly, “that’s easy. I don’t like you.”
Eddie’s hand subtly rises up to cover his mouth. Steve bites back a grin; he knows a hastily stifled laugh when he sees one.
“Out you go, Harrington,” the teacher says, pointing at the door.
Steve stands up, unbothered. He’ll just ditch, head home early before the dick’s had any time to step out into the corridor and scream at him. That mall’s almost done being built; he could finish filling in a job application for one of the stores there before the day’s out.
He makes sure the window’s pushed up so far that it’ll be more of a pain to try and close it compared to just letting it be.
Then he swings his bag over one shoulder, says in a little aside, “See you, Munson. You know, Class of ‘86 has a better ring to it anyway.”
“I’ll, uh, take your word for it, man,” Eddie says, and he sounds a little taken aback.
Steve glances over his shoulder just before the door shuts behind him, and he sees Eddie’s hand raised in an uncertain wave, like he can’t believe he’s even doing it.
And if you ask Steve, that’s a movie shot all of its own.
#them briefly crossing paths before Everything has my heart ❤️#pre steddie#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson
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Typically I don’t do angry tumblr rants but this gbbo smore shit has a cold rage burning in the fireplace of my soul and the words ‘sacrilege’ and ‘heresy’ bubbling up from the depths of my being to be played on loop in mute horror like a scratched record.
So.
This monstrosity is what gbbo was trying to pass off as a smore.
This is not a smore. Look at it. It’s downright undercooked. That’s not even marshmallow. Or chocolate. It looks cold. This is about as much a smore as Cris Pratt is a voice actor. As a corgi is a wolf. As gbbo is apparently competent at research.
Also me to explain what a smore is.
For anyone who doesn’t know what the fudge a smore is, it’s a typical summertime treat often made at summercamp, when camping, or if you live in a place with a fireplace/assess to a campfire sometimes you’ll use that.
Basically it goes like this; it takes five ingredients, gram crackers, any chocolate bar with rectangular pieces you can break off (traditionally Hershey’s as it’s the cheapest and smores tend to be made in bulk, it’s one of those things a group of people make together otherwise it won’t taste right) large marshmallows, an open flame, and as previously mentioned more than one person to make them at the same time. If you make smores alone, the smores too will be sad and alone.
First you take two gram crackers and break off 1 to 2 sections of chocolate. Place the chocolate on each side, so both sides are all chocolatey. Then you take a marshmallow and skewer it on either a pointy stick from the ground or a metal skewer specificity made for roasting marshmallows/hotdogs depending on if someone has any.
Next you, well, roast the marshmallows. If you’re doing this at a campfire this involves a lot of moving away from the direction the smoke is blowing well and minor amounts of giggle-filled pvp as everyone jostles for the best spots around the fire. Mellow roasting is one of those things that is kind of the point of making marshmallows, the epic highs and lows of seeing how close to the fire you can get yours and how long you can hold it there before it either falls off or catches fire is integral to the entire experience.
Once you hastily blow out the one-fire part of the marshmallow, you slide it off the stick and between the gram crackers and chocolate. Then you squish it a bit to get the chocolate all nice and gooey, and bite in.
It’s gooey, it’s very messy, and the closer it gets to midnight the more it’s delicious.
So now we have established what a smore is, allow me to explain how UTTERLY BUTCHERED that abomination of sugar is.
First, we have the ingredients themselves. Paul Bitchwood describes the middle as ‘Italian meringue’.
Italian meringue.
Italian. Fucking. Meringue.
*deep breath*
IS NOT A MARSHMALLOW.
It does not share THE BASIC PROPERTIES OF A MARSHMALLOW.
YOU CANNOT STAB MERINGUE WITH A STCK AND HAVE IT STAY ON THE FUCKING SICK. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A MARSHMALLOW BEFORE MR BITCHWOOD???? WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO THROW THE TOP OF A LEMON MERINGUE PIE AT YOU TO DEMONSTRATE “PAUL”?! IF IT DOESN’T BOUNCE ITS NOT A FUCKING MELLOW AND THE EFECT ON YOUR FACE WOULD BE ONE HELL OF AN IMPROVEMENT!
So already we have the single most important ingredient straight up ‘substituted’ (if you can even call it that) for an entirely different food with a completely different texture, taste, consistency, and behavior under heat.
But there’s more!
See, that chocolate? It’s not melted chocolate like you might think at first glance- no no no, that’s fucking GANACHE.
YOU KnOW, The THing With THE CoNsistenCY of FroSTING???? :) :) :)
The thing that you expressly don’t want to melt when using it in cooking on pain of death?
Thus removing THE ENTIRE PURPOSE CONSISTENCY FLAVER AND TEXTURE OF THE INGREDIENT
AGAIN!
and then. Ohhhhhhh and then.
Those are no gram crackers.
Those are ‘digestibles”
WHAT THE FUCK ARE DIGESTABLES
THATS WHAT HAPPENS TO ALL FOOD ITS NOT SPECIAL DUMBASS
WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF RICH PEOPLE SHIT ARE YOU EATING THAT YOU NEED TO POINT THAT OUT IN THE NAME
WHAT THE FUCK
AND IT AGAIN HAS A DIFFERENT EVERYTHING THEN GRAaM CRACKERS
WHY
YOU DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO DO THAT IF YOU WANTED IT TO SOUND FANCY YOU COULD HAVE JUST MADE GRAM CRACKERS FROM SCRATCH IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE DO IT BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BUT ITS AT LEAST POSSIBLE AGHHHHHHHHHHH
And then. To add insult to injury after FUCKING injury.
It’s a circle.
It’s A CiRcLE.
WHY IS IT A CIRCLE.
IT SHOULNT BE A CIRCLE-
In conclusion; Paul Bitchywood is a fucker and a Tory and I don’t put stock in god but by whatever powers may be I hope hell exists because this fool is running a marathon to it’s center.
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Can I request a top! Jane Banner x fem!reader, with angst,smut and fluff at the end, where, reader is a new police and Jane is her superior & she take a like in reader months later but try to hide it, making reader feel bad then you can do the rest as you want
HATE ME? OR LOVE ME?
PAIRINGS: Jane Banner x reader
WORD COUNT: 3,220
WARNINGS: smut, love hate relationship, kinda enemies to lovers, angst, Jane hiding her feelings, cunnilingus, pet names, r getting stood up, making out, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, top!Jane, fluff, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“That’s the problem, Y/N, you can never do anything right!” The words rang through your mind on repeat. Your superior was the one who spit them, letting her built-up anger rise to the point of overfilling, and you were the one to suffer. You knew she despised you, and if it was up to her, you wouldn’t have been hired in the first place. You didn’t mind, you were used to being disliked throughout your life and came to an acceptance of the fact. And it wasn’t because she was your boss that it affected you so much, it’s because you liked her in ways you shouldn’t like your higher supervisor.
She would watch your every move, each step haunting her mind. You expected it was so she could find an excuse to report you and see you go, but it was really because she just wanted to admire you any chance she had. You wouldn’t understand, which is why she kept quiet. It pained her to see you frown, but she couldn’t let herself get as close as she wanted to. So, instead of remaining neutral, she decided to take her frustration and fill your heart with the hurtful words she’d mutter.
People suggested you report her, but you didn’t want to. You’d rather take the glares than see her separated from you, or even worse, be forced to leave for good. You instead took to ridding yourself of the sleep you needed and thriving on the suffering you enforced, all while she painted your mind. You couldn’t even focus on the comments, only focusing on the beauty that expressed them. That’s what you hated most, that you couldn’t hate her.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but if your other person doesn’t arrive in the next five minutes, we’ll be forced to remove you. Unless you’d like to place your order, that is.” The waiter smiled apologetically, and you guessed he had dealt with this before, a guest being stood up and holding hopes they’d arrive. You were ready to give up and leave with a small apology for wasting their time, that was until you noticed a woman stepping forward.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jane looked in your direction, her eyes widening at your low-cut dress. You looked so beautiful, just like you always did.
“Y/N, nice to see you here.” You rolled your eyes with a groan, handing the menu to the waiter before standing. She furrowed her brows slightly, nodding the man off as you tried to walk past her, only for her arm to grasp your shoulder in an attempt for you to stay.
“Woah, relax now,” She started. “Where do you think you’re going?” You took a deep breath before turning, eyeing the woman with a clenched jaw.
“Home. Why, you going to follow me there too?” She chuckled, releasing her grip when she realized she didn’t have to force you to stay.
“I just might.” There was a short beat of silence before you blew a breath, getting ready to leave before she repeated her actions.
“Alright, what do you want? I’m off work hours, you can’t keep me.”
“Gosh, don’t be such a fucking bore. You got stood up, so I was trying to do the right thing and ask you if you’d like to join me instead.” You didn’t believe her, there was no chance she had good intentions when it came to you. She hated you, why would she ever want to change that?
“What, so you can make up a lie that you need to pee so I’ll end up being stuck paying the bill?” She remained relaxed, refusing to feed into your annoyance and letting you get a reaction. She got hers already, now you were just dying to get some sort of revenge.
“Look, I know we don’t get along all the time-“
“We never do. Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick, I’d actually be willing to strike up a conversation with you.” You stated calmly, and she tightened her grip at your interruption. No one interrupts her, especially when you’re beneath her. But, she let it go past her, maintaining a tense smile as she pointed to her seat. There were only two chairs, either she was on a date or was eating alone. And with her lack of empathy, you guessed it was the latter.
“Well, maybe this is me trying to redeem myself. C’mon, you know we both have nothing better to do. I’m waiting for my mother to arrive, and you’re going home alone.”
“How do you know I’m going home alone? Maybe I’m going home to my wife and kids, maybe I’m going home to my family, maybe I’m going home to my cat-“
“Alright, I get it. If you really have places to go then you wouldn’t have been waiting for your date to show up for half an hour. But, if you really don’t want to, then you can leave.” You debated between your options, dinner with a woman who hated you, or going home to imagine being with the same woman. She’d hold you tight on the couch, kiss your forehead while your legs laid across hers. Her soft giggles showing her whitened pearls. Then she’d kiss you goodnight as she tucked you into bed, joining you soon after and returning her arms to their righteous spot around you.
You blinked twice, trying to register that you were in fact forced to live in the present time when all you wanted was to experience the daydreams you escaped through.
“Fine, I’ll stay. But don’t think I wanted this.” She smirked, letting you sit before pushing your chair in. You saw your previous table being occupied by a happy couple and smiled sadly, wishing you were taking their current places. You didn’t care for the view the seat had, but the one they each held was better than anything.
“Can we get the Le Medoc De Cos wine for the table, please?” You failed to understand how she didn’t miss a single beat, she must be a regular.
“Of course, ma’am, is there anything else I can start the two of you with?” He turned his gaze to you respectfully, and you grinned warmly.
“Uh, I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” He nodded and returned to the back where you assumed he was preparing the carefulness of the wine.
“You don’t order water at a restaurant like this, dumbass.” She scowled while her eyes remained on the menu, occasionally letting her eyebrows lift in a small excitement as she read the ingredients.
“Well, I think we both know I don’t have the funds for the wine you got.” It was true, you were only just starting a few months ago and were still considered young by most, it was nearly impossible for you to make the same as her.
“You’re not paying the bill, don’t worry about prices.” Your eyes widened as you looked at her dumbfounded. She lowered the paper and returned your gaze, making you evert your own slightly.
“We’re cutting this in half, I’m not letting you pay the bill and then use it against me for the rest of my life.”
“Oh my fucking God, will you relax with the assumptions? I’m not that big of a bitch, no matter how much you think I am.”
“I would calm yourself on the language, young lady.” Jane turned to see where the voice came from, only to sigh as her Mother came into view. She gave a tight-lipped smile and stood, giving the older woman a small hug and resting her hands on her arms.
“It’s great to see you, Mom.” She brushed her off, pulling out her chair as your boss was left stranded. She gulped, glancing towards you as you gave a small greeting to the guest. She took your hand with a small shake, something Jane rarely saw.
“Sorry for the intrusion, I’m your daughter's coworker and we happened to be dining in at the same place tonight.” She looked to her child for more description, and you feared you spoke wrong.
“Y/N here got stood up tonight and I thought I’d do the right thing and invite her to eat with us, I hope you don’t mind.” The reminder brought a roll to your eyes before you disguised it with a clearing of your throat, catching the attention of both.
“Oh, not at all! It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” The entire dinner went on with minimal chatting, you started to assume you were intruding on their special night. You grabbed your phone, excusing yourself to the bathroom with shaky hands. You refused to lift your gaze for the entire walk until you reached the door. When inside, you placed your hands on the marble countertop and sighed, letting the tension from the week release. Suddenly, you heard the door open with a small squeak and turned, only to see Jane looking back at you.
“Please don’t leave.” Confusion wrote itself across your face before you chuckled softly, shaking your head in disbelief.
“And why is that?” She licked her lips and bit them softly, knotting her arms together as they laid across her chest.
“I can’t stand that woman and I definitely don’t want to deal with her alone.” She admitted, but you didn’t understand her hatred for her mother. You picked up on the small comments throughout the dinner, but you guessed it was playful nature when she’d give a small laugh in response, only now did you realize they were most likely fake.
“And…I guess I enjoy having you there to, you know, ease the awkwardness.” You were planning on cutting the meal short for yourself, but you understood her request. Even if she was technically using you, you didn’t want her to suffer through something like this, you still cared for her.
“Fine, I’ll stay.” She seemed relieved by your response and rushed forward to greet you in a grateful hug, only to come to her senses moments later.
“Oh, right, uhm- sorry.” She gave you one last smile of appreciation before exiting, returning to her awaiting mother.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I was just checking in on them.” She took a bite of the food, instantly regretting the action as the heat filled her senses.
“You know, you two make a really cute couple.” Not only was it hot, but now Jane was nearly choking on the steak. She pressed her fist against her chest a few times before clearing her throat.
“Uh, we’re- we’re not dating, Mom.”
“Look, I know you don’t believe in love, and trust me, after your father, I thought I never would either. But, love comes random, you can’t choose who you fall for. Besides, I may be old but that doesn’t mean I can’t spot the sexual tension between you two.” The sudden outburst sent heat waves to your boss's cheeks.
“Mom! There is no sexual tension between us! They hate me, if anything, I’m a complete dickbag to them.”
“Because you don’t want to accept that your dream of being alone forever is fading into something new. So, please, do me a favor and stop being a baby.” She saw you stalking back out of the corner of her eye and grinned as she stood. Jane was still stuck in thought, her forehead creased together as she, once again, started to bite her lip.
“Well, I believe I should be leaving now. It was so lovely to meet you, dear, I know me and my daughter loved your company.”
“Awh, you’re leaving already?” You brought her in for a short hug while she nodded, turning to her daughter to say a short goodbye. You wondered why she didn’t do the same with her as she did with you, but you brushed it off.
“Alright, I’ll ask the waiter for a box, are you saving your food?” Her Mother was now out of the building and you could get rid of your facade. She shook her head as she came back to her senses, your voice filling her ears as they dinged in excitement.
“Why not get a dessert? I mean, we’re already here, no point in leaving yet.” You eyed her with suspicion and she only pestered on.
“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you? Why are you being nice all of a sudden?” Her mother's words rang in her head once again as she got a true, genuine look at you. She always thought you were a heaven-sent piece of artwork, but now you looked ever more angelic. She didn’t know how you did, but you did.
“I just want to get dessert, is that so bad?” You huffed out a breath and examined the menu, your mouth watering at the descriptions. When the waiter came over, he kindly took your requests along with the papers. There was a silence that roamed over the both of you, Jane found it comforting. She knew you probably didn’t feel the same, but being able to have a moment with her thoughts that filled of you was always her peace.
“Dove chocolate cheesecake for you, ma’am,” She smiled in appreciation and took the dish before he turned to you. “And the chef’s special Tiramisu for you, Miss.” You repeated Jane’s movements, leading him to stand over the table with his hands together in front of him.
“Would you or your wife like anything else before I hand over the bill?” You blanked for a moment, chuckling awkwardly to yourself as you glanced up at him.
“Oh, we’re not-”
“Yes, actually. Would we be able to have a refill of their water, please?” You turned to look at her now, tilting your head to the side as she acted oblivious. He nodded and returned shortly with your new glass and the bill. You examined the total with widened eyes.
“The lady with you paid for half already.” He stated before leaving the two of you.
“Why didn’t you correct him?”
“For what?”
“Don’t play dumb, for saying you’re my wife.” She shrugged with a mouthful of her food, leading you to eventually give up and bask in the flavors the dish greeted you with.
The two of you were walking out of the restaurant, Jane holding the door open for you and leading you to your car. She hoped you parked as far as possible, just so she could get an extra few minutes with you. Her hand longed to interlace with yours, but she held back in fear.
“I hope you enjoyed tonight.” She spoke when you stopped in front of the vehicle she recognized as yours. You nodded with a thin line on your mouth before she said her goodbyes. She turned around with a sigh before stopping herself when she heard your voice.
“Yeah?” She saw you stalking forward, your head down until your body was mere inches from hers.
“I actually did enjoy tonight, thank you for inviting me.” She smiled gently when you lifted your head to glance at her, her impulses failing her as she placed her hands on your hips and drew you in. Her lips touched yours in a soft, searing manner as you sunk into it.
“W-what?” She gulped fearfully, pulling away as your hooded eyes searched hers.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to-” Her words were cut short as you pulled her back in, groaning as her body molded against yours. She placed her hands on your bottom, smiling gracefully as her tongue was granted entrance. She pushed you against the hood of the car, feeling your arms wrap around her neck while your thighs parted enough for her to place her knee between them. You instinctively grinded against the soft skin that greeted you, resulting in a muffled moan to escape.
“Wait-” She furrowed her eyebrows as she rested her forehead against yours, instantly following your request.
“I don’t want to do this here. Will you come home with me?”
Her slender fingers drew in and out of you in a hurry, her hot breath fanning across your face as you mumbled out pleas. She found her gaze falling to the connection between you two, shuddering as your tight hole accepted a third digit. Your legs wrapped around her form, your chest heaving with every inhale. Your nipples hardened from the gush of wind before a gasp left you, Jane’s wet mouth finding it as her free hand led yours to the neglected breast. You toyed with the hard bud, fluttering your eyes shut as you bit your lip.
“No, let me hear you, baby.” She dreamed of hearing everything you released, she wasn’t going to let that be stripped away from her.
“Jane-” Her name wasn’t her favorite word, but hearing your soft whine made it a blessing to her eardrums. Her clit throbbed in delight, begging to meet yours.
“Yeah?” Her jaw was now resting on your shoulder, her lips right next to your ear as she left pecks down your neck. She hoped they’d leave a mark, just so everyone would know you belonged to her now. But, in reality, you always have.
“Need to cum- fuck! I need it so bad.” Your fingertips came to scratch at her scalp softly, your legs starting to shake the closer you got. Your coil tightened the more you held back, yet it begged to let go.
“I need you, Jane.” The stumbled sentence brought a stall to her movements. She only continued her thrusts when a whine bounced off the walls, the creator being the person beneath her.
“I know, I need you just as bad, darlin’.” She felt liquid spray against her crotch as you cried out, clawing at any part of skin you could grapple onto.
“Oh, God, ‘feels ‘o good!” Your babbles brought a dark chuckle to the woman. She thrived on the fact that she was the reason you were like this. You were no longer crying from her harsh words, you were crying from how good she made you feel.
“No, no, we’re not done just yet,” She informed when noticing you tried squeezing your legs shut.
“Don’t be embarrassed, love, I find it so fucking hot that you squirted for me, makes me so, so wet.” Your cheeks reddened, your eyes unable to meet hers when her finger came in contact with your chin. You hadn’t noticed her pulling out of you, the bliss of the moment being too heavy for your mind to keep track of your surroundings.
“Don’t you taste fucking heavenly?” She forced you to suck the sweet nectar coating her digits, chuckling as you gagged when they hit the back of your throat. You moaned around them, suckling every last drop.
“Spread ‘em, angel,” You whimpered, shaking your head in disagreement. “I said, spread ‘em, you can take another, you will.” You obeyed slowly, feeling her fingers instantly spreading your folds as her tongue came in contact with your sensitive bud.
“More, baby, I want you to struggle.” Her lips instantly wrapped around your clit, the sounds of your juices being evident as she sucked harshly.
“Fuck, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
#jane banner#jane banner x you#jane banner smut#jane banner x y/n#jane banner fanfiction#jane banner x reader#wanda maximoff fic#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff imagines#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff comfort#wind river#wind river fanfiction
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Sebastian NSFW Alphabet
A/N: the actual love of my life is next, be prepared for the others to either come over the next couple of weeks or the next couple of days depending on how fast I do them.
Tw: nsfw content(sex, kinks, cum, ome mention of piss yk the usual) cursing
Wc:idk
Stardew Masterlist NSFW Alphabet Masterlist
C- Cum (anything to do with cum,basically)
If you asked him to his face he’d just say that he’s okay with whatever you want but in truth he wants to ruin you completely. I think he would be very awkward and unwilling to admit that he wants to cum inside you and on you. Like he wants to go until you’re covered and filled with his cum. It’s probably a possessive thing.
E- Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
I think I’ve talked about this before? Like he’s either a virgin or he’s had one or two people that he’s slept with before. I do think he and Abigail have hooked up at least once but stopped at some point because something happened. But I do lean more towards him being a virgin right now
He doesn’t really know what he’s doing but he learns quickly and never shows that he’s clumsy with it. Acts like he’s just learning what you like in order to pretend that he’s cool calm and collected. Inside he’s freaking out because he doesn’t know what he’s doing and is VERY worried you’re not enjoying yourself.
G- Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? Etc)
He would want to be funny and relaxed in the moment, but he is quite serious because he’s kinda insecure, and wants everything to be good so he can’t really relax and be a little funny until you’re far into the relationship.
H-Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
His pubic hair is dark like his hair(I know people think he’s a redhead like his mom but I do like that his hair is dark.) he will let it get messy if he’s single but once he starts dating he trims it VERY low. Like he’s not bald but is very short in order to make everyone comfortable.
I-Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
I don’t think he’s very romantic unless you ask him to make more of an effort. I don’t think he’s entitled or even open with asking for sex, but you can tell when he wants to do the do. He’s more like….idk how to describe it. It’s just he’s like more touchy and cuddly when he’s horny? If you ask him to be more romantic he’ll do the candle thing probably or something nerdy but cute.
J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
One of the horniest men to ever exist ngl. Dude probably jacks off at least once a day. Let’s face it, he’s an antisocial emo, who sits in his room all day because he doesn’t want to leave it and to further that point he even has a job that requires him to not leave it. Seb has so much alone time and so many naughty thoughts that he has to rub one out in order to even concentrate properly. Luckily no one really bothers him so he has only been caught probably once and as a teenager.
K- Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Lord Jesus this man has too many to count so I might go top five. He likes role playing and dressing up for SURE. Wear that maid costume, or if you’re particularly dominant out HIM in a maid costume. Let him wear his Wizard cosplay like dude is DOWN. Bdsm. Literally(I say this word way too much)as a whole he likes bondage, he likes sadism and masochism(he will let you choose) he’s into dominant and submissive roles(again he will let you choose) it’s just FUN for him. He likes choking, and probably has a body worship kink (both ways), and overstimulation. Used to edge himself on accident and it became a thing for him
L-Location (favorite places to do the do)
In his room, or near the lake. He likes it most on his bed because after it smells like you, and he’s always dreamed of fucking a significant other in his bed during one of his jerk off sessions, and literally having you in his bed is a dream come true. Also on the couch in his room, because it’s kinda depraved. Like you two were so wrapped up in each other that you couldn’t make it to the bed that’s a couple of feet away.
He likes the lake because it gives off the exhibition vibe while honestly being kinda private. Like he’s usually the only one by the lake at a certain time (unless Demetrius comes and ruins the vibes for him even if he’s usually on the other side of the lake) and living on the mountain top means that no one is really around to snitch on him. Like his mother is too wrapped up in her husband and his sister is too wrapped up in her experiments and robots to even notice that he’s railing you by the lakeside.
M- Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
I feel like I’ve said this for EVERY character so I’m gonna try to reword it from just *you*
His mind gets him going. Like he’s always thinking of something dirty, even if he’s doing something completely innocent. Like he can be working and all of a sudden his mind is wandering because his work is so boring that it can’t help but fill the boredom with things he finds fun. Like video games and fucking you until the both of you are on the verge of passing out.
N- No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Like the last letter, I feel like i say it a lot for each character but like anything that’s too gross. Like I think this man might go pretty far. Would probably even try piss stuff once if you really wanted it. So like anything that’s farther than that is a no.
O- Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Would say his preference is giving but in reality it’s receiving. He loves giving head, don’t get me wrong. But he will never turn down you giving him head EVER. There’s just something about how the comepletely falls apart when your mouth is on him. He could cry from how thankful he is that you’re willing to do this for him.
Giving head I would say he’s decent and get better every time. He strives for greatness(lmao like he’s an elite employee) when it comes to getting you to cum. He will always try new techniques in order to get you cumming quicker each time. He wants you to feel the best he can make you feel.
Q- Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc)
LOVES THEM. COMPLETELY!!!! Wants to be in you all day every day, and if quickies are the way to do it before he can have you all to himself, well, guess you’re gonna have a lot of quickies throughout the day. Oh well!
R-Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)
Like I mentioned earlier, Seb has a bit of an exhibitionist kink, it’s more that he wants to show off that he gets to fuck YOU. Like look at my hot significant other, rather than showing off his skills or himself. He doesn’t really want people to watch at all(unless it’s like Sam who he’s cool with watching) but like he does wish that people knew that he somehow bagged the hottest person alive(you). So he’ll fuck you in semi public. Like at the lakeside in the middle of the night, or in his room when he knows everyone is awake
And yes he is always game to experiment. If it’s going to make the experience better for both of you, his thought process is: why not? Willing to try almost everything once.
T- Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
I think he probably owned like a vibrating cock ring or a pocket pussy or a tenga egg or something while he was single. Now that he has you he rarely uses those things anymore unless you want him to incorporate it into sex.
Will buy toys for you, and if you buy toys for him he won’t object. Likes using them during sex, even if he doesn’t think y’all need them.
U- Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Likes to tease a decent amount, especially the more confident he gets. Will tease and laugh at you(in a mean but good way) if you’re begging or crying or something. Gives in if you beg just right though. He’s a menace not evil.
#stardew valley#sdv#stardew#sdv headcanons#stardew headcanon#stardew valley headcanons#sdv shitpost#stardew shitpost#stardew valley shitpost#sdv sebastian#stardew sebastian#stardew valley sebastian#sdv x reader#sdv x farmer#sdv sebastian x farmer#sdv sebastian x reader#stardew x farmer#stardew x reader#stardew valley x farmer#stardew valley x reader#stardew sebastian x farmer#stardew sebastian x reader#stardew valley sebastian x farmer#stardew valley sebastian x reader#sdv smut#stardew smut#stardew valley smut#nsfwalphabet
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Dirty Laundry
Shane Walsh x F!Reader
Summary: Shane doesn't approve of the way you do laundry. He tries to school you, but he loves you so much he can't really stay mad at you for long, especially when you start taking your clothes off.
Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Crack, Oral Sex (f. recieving), Vaginal sex, Pet Names, Bratty reader. No ZA.
Word Count: 1.9k // AO3 Link.
You were aware Shane had his quirks before moving in together. Some you already knew, like having five pairs of boots from the same brand, or the way he chews his thumbnail when he’s nervous, or how he frantically runs his hand on his hair when he’s pissed… Most of those were quickly revealed after you started dating. Others you'd only come aware of them upon moving in together.
One that is highly surprising is his obsession with laundry. You noticed that his clothes were always perfectly clean and ironed as he wore them on any occasion you went out, no matter how fancy or casual. But once you were sharing the same bedroom, you found out that even his underwear is always neatly pressed and folded in the drawer as if it had just come out of the package. With how much he works, you always thought he'd have taken to a cleaners or something, but that’s not the case. He not only cares for his own clothes but making laundry is something he actually enjoys. It relaxes him, he says. Which it’s the complete opposite for you. It makes you anxious anytime you have to do it. Especially the folding and sorting part. When you lived alone, there was always a pile sitting on that chair in the corner of your room. But not anymore. Now that you are living with Shane there are no more random piles collecting dust for days at a time in any chair of the house. Anytime he does laundry, you come home to find your drawers perfectly organized. It’s not something you can complain about because Shane is a true dream of a partner. Quirks and all, you wouldn’t have it any other way. So, in return, any time it’s your turn to make laundry, no matter how much you hate it, you make the minimal effort to at least take the same care of his clothes as he does for yours. Though you could tell that sometimes he doesn’t approve of your messy folding technique, and has to rearrange them when you’re not around, he never says anything either.
But today, when it's your turn to do laundry, he comes home to catch you transferring all the dirty clothes from the hamper into the washing machine, both yours and his without much regard of type, color, texture… That's how you've always done it. Yes, it's messy, and you've had a couple of mishaps, but nothing really atrocious ever happened. You never put that much thought into it, to be honest. It's just clothing. But not for Shane. Watching his precious shirts, and uniform with the rest of the load makes him physically ill. He stares at you as if you were killing a puppy.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he goes off, taking stuff out of the washer. “You can't mix delicates with towels. And what the fuck is this?” he picks up a pair of dirty sneakers from the bottom of the drum. “You were really gonna wash them with all these? You're a fuckin’ savage.”
You lean against the dryer and try not to burst into laughter at how annoyed he is. It's kinda cute actually to see him frown at you with scorn, and hearing his voice pitch a little higher than usual.
These past few weeks, you've been collecting a series of firsts since you moved into your new home. The first time you cooked in your new kitchen, the first time you disagreed when it came to rearranging the living room furniture, the first night you woke him up when you heard a strange noise in the hallway… And today it's the first time you've truly seen him irritated.
“It's just clothes, babe. Who cares?”
“I care.” He frantically goes through the heap of clothes, divorcing them into several piles on top of the washer. “Please tell me at least you're not using the speed cycle to wash everything.”
“What? It saves time, water, electricity…”
“Yeah, but at what cost.”
“Gee, it's not like I murdered someone.”
“You were about to murder my uniform. That's the real crime.”
“Hmm, you look better without it anyway.” You tease, reaching with your hand to pinch his booty covered by a pair of jeans.
“Stop, this is serious.” Shane stays firm in his position but tries to hide one corner of his mouth pulling up into a half-smile. “Look, I’m gonna show you how it’s done.”
“Ohh, fun. I'm about to get schooled by the laundry police. Please enlighten me, Officer.”
You roll your eyes and half listen to him explaining the washer’s control panel to you as if you were an idiot. It’s not that you don’t know how to use it, it’s that you’re lazy and rather put everything together and save time. Then, he proceeds to elaborate on which categories you should separate the different types of fabrics.
“That would take me all day if I have to do that many loads.”
“So? That’s what weekends are for?”
“Noooo. Weekends are for resting, watching movies, and chilling.”
“Who said you can't have that too?”
“You! I think I lost five years of my life by just listening to you explaining how to do laundry.”
“You’re being a little brat today.”
“Am I now?” You smirk and push one of the piles he had on top of the washer to the floor. “Whoops.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
“Nothing.” You push the next one.
“You're playing a dangerous game, darling.”
“Yeah? I just want you to teach me again how to do it.” Next, you grab the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing, pull it over your head and dangle it in your finger. “Where should I put this, deputy?”
“I'd put it up your ass. Bet it'd look real nice there.”
You snort and let the shirt fall to the floor.
“What about this, Mr. Delicate?” you unclasp your bra, slip the straps off your arms, and drape it on his shoulder. “Do you like it there?”
Then, you brace your palms on his chest, your lips draw a grin as you lean to whisper closer to his mouth. “Or do you want me to put it back on?”
“Don't fucking dare putting it back on?” He mutters, swatting the bra off his shoulder before having his hand holding your jaw firmly.
There's actually no other choice for him than to join your little game. Laundry be damned when it comes to choosing between you or clothes.
Licking his lips, he pulls his head back, eyes roaming down to your bare chest as you move your hands to hold his waist. When his stare travels back up, you both lock eyes for a second before having his mouth pressed against yours with a sloppy, pushing flick of his tongue forcing itself past your lips.
His hand keeps your head still while he shoves your back against the wall. His free hand snakes its way under the waistband of your sweatpants at the front. His fingers shamelessly rub your pussy back and forth over your panties, tucking the fabric in your slit. Hitting all the right spots, he earns a good moan out of you.
All of a sudden, his tongue comes to a stop. His hand too. Shane drops to his knees. From that position he pulls your sweatpants down to your ankles and grabs your hips as his tongue juts out to draw a wet circle around your navel. He then trails down, as your skin comes alive into goose flesh. He yanks your underwear down your legs to join your pants at the floor before having his mouth shoved at the junction of your hips. His mouth travels all over your sex, leaving kisses and nibbles your outer lips, licking your folds, teasing your clit…
“Shane… Fuck…” you bury your fingers in his hair and pull tight as the tip of his tongue circles your opening.
Your body writhes against the hard surface holding your back, your grip tightens on his hair while his lips viciously start sucking your clit. Your pussy melts as much as any time he goes down on you and just as fast as before, his mouth is suddenly gone before the job is done, leaving that sweet aching lingering all over your cunt. He lifts his stare to seize your unsatisfied expression as you gasp for air. He quickly yanks his shirt off before holding your hips and bringing you down to the floor.
“C’mere, dirty lil brat,” he growls, and you yelp as he manhandles your body, rolling you to your back right on top of the pile of dirty laundry you tossed to the floor.
Shane removes the clothing hanging around your ankles and sets your knees widely apart so he can kneel in between. He unzips his jeans, pulls them down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxer briefs to release his erection. He’s hard as rock. The flared tip of his dick is swollen and red, begging for some friction. There’s a dark shine in his eyes that matches the glossy layer of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. As he lowers his body down, you frame his face with both your palms, pull his face closer to capture his mouth while he blindly guides himself into your opening. Your core knots tightly as he pushes all his length up to the hilt. His breathing shallows as you devour his mouth with hunger. He comfortably settles on top of you, holding one of his arms on the side of your head while his other hand clutches to your hips. His thrusts come sharp and steady, filling the room with the relentless slapping of his hips against your skin and the desperate sounds of your kisses.
“God, I love you,” you groan in his mouth.
“Love you more, sweetheart.”
You breathe the air of his lungs, eat his tongue and swallow the sweet grunts that come out of his throat one beat at a time as you both lose the ability to draw deeper breaths. His cock swiftly comes in and out of you as your legs tremble and lock. You move your hands to hold his ass as the erratic waving of his hips drives you out of your mind. A pulse later you're hit with a mighty climax that almost makes you lose consciousness. As your walls flutter around his thickness he spills all his warm juices deep in your walls.
“Fuck me,” his voice falters as he slips out of you.
He lays flat on top of you for a moment as your orgasm slowly ebbs. His skin is warm and damp against yours as your palm glides up his back to comb the hairs at his nape.
“Oh god, now the laundry is dirtier than before,” you laugh softly as his smile grows wide against your neck.
“And whose fault is that, huh?” he lifts his head to look at you with an eyebrow slightly raised.
“Technically… it’s yours. If you had let me do it as I wanted, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Ain’t that right?” he playfully pinches your side making you jolt and chuckle.
“I mean… I’d rather do you than do laundry, so I'm not complaining.”
“Yeah?” he sweetly dips to leave a chaste peck on your lips. “I'd rather do you, too.”
#shane walsh x reader#shane walsh#twd fanfiction#the walking dead#jon bernthal#jon bernthal smut#jon bernthal fanfiction#fanfiction#darlingwrites
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omg omg omg can I pls request hotch genuinely being the most clueless, dumb-and-in-love individual?
Basically the team has to point it out to him for him to see how soft he is for reader and how differently he treats them 💗😩 he’s in love, your honour 🤭
i love our stupid man in love, he's so cute i can't.
this is part two of this blurb from my moments au
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader
Words: 1.7k
CW: nothing, just fluff.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
He didn’t ask you out that night. Neither Morgan or Rossi won the bet, the unfortunate draw making them only want to try harder to win over the other.
That had been a week ago, the pool only growing as more agents got in on it and it had somehow gotten out of hand really quickly. Penelope had been tasked with keeping track of the bets, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about it, especially when she was around you.
The team had left for a case earlier in the week which meant you were spending a lot of time with her. From helping with research, running point from the office, making calls and setting up permits, warrants, everything and anything they needed, you were practically tied at the hip as per usual when the team was away. The only problem? Penelope Garcia could not keep a secret to save her life, and the more time she spent with you, the more she almost slipped and told you what was going on.
You had closed the case earlier that night after five days of grueling work. You were exhausted, more so emotionally than physically, so you’d invited Penelope to dinner as way to celebrate the little victory. But what had started as a simple night out had quickly turned wild as the waiter had taken a liking to her and kept the cocktails coming throughout your entire meal. You were on dessert, a forgettable chocolate lava cake with ice cream when she finally slipped.
“I just think it’s so silly,” she giggled in between sips of her drink and scoops of dessert.
“What’s silly?” you egged her on, whatever this secret was had eluded you for the entire week and you just needed to know.
“How much Hotch likes you,” her cheeks flushed pink but her brain didn’t realize what’d she’d admitted to yet, allowing her to continue. “The team has a bet going on when he’s going to ask you out and everything.”
“Huh,” you mused. “That is silly.”
That’s when her brain snapped, dread and realization washing over her all at once. Her eyes widened, her spoon fell from her hand and onto the plate.
“Oh my gosh, do you not like Hotch back? I could’ve sworn— I am mortified! Forget I told you, please I am begging you—”
You reached over and placed your hand over hers, gently soothing her out of her panic as a mischievous smile curled on your lips.
“Can you get me on the board, Pen?”
Apparently they were all convinced it wasn’t happening for a while. They had decided to overcorrect their previous assumptions, placing bets that were days if not weeks in the future. Penelope had added you to the bet list that same night, promising to keep the secret until the next morning.
You knew the clock was ticking, knew that once you started the countdown, you had no business losing your courage. It was now or never, and the reminder that soon the rest of the team would be shuffling into the bullpen to start their day, that they’d know someone else had made a risky bet — it only got your adrenaline pumping even more.
You poured his coffee as you watched him enter the office, gaze on his phone, powerful and confident strides leading him towards his office. He turned and waved from the top of the stairs once he finally noticed you, a small smile on his lips. You smiled back, your cheeks reddening slightly as you finished getting your own coffee in order, the pale tan a contrast to his straight black.
You made your way to his office a minute after he’d settled, placing his cup on his desk and taking a seat across from him. This had been your routine for months now, you’d bring him his coffee in the morning and the two of you would fill each other in on your lives.
Aaron had been dealing with his divorce, the guilt of having to split Jack’s time between him and his mom, the added stress of finding a new place and moving, of finding himself alone when he’d been used to always having someone to come home to after a tough case. And you? You had just started going to therapy after he’d encouraged you to. It had been a rocky adjustment to the job, and you were glad that you could confide in him as your boss but also as your friend.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling out the case files he’d taken back home the night before.
You shot him a look, the look, and he couldn’t help but sigh deeply. You weren’t angry, you were simply disappointed, and he knew that. It had been hard, harder now that he had to force himself back out there if he wanted to actually have a life. But even after months of this new normal, the idea of dating made him even more exhausted than he’d like to admit.
Because while Morgan or Emily thrived meeting new people, Aaron had met Haley in high school. He’d been with one woman his entire life, one woman for more than twenty years. He was rusty to say the least, the insecurity of it only growing the more he refused to take the leap, the more he refused to feel his feelings, the more he fell in love with you.
“Haley had Jack last night—” he started but you were quick to interrupt him.
“That’s a terrible excuse,” you chided. “There’s a million things you could’ve done instead.”
“Oh yeah?” the mischief was back in his eyes, making you gulp visibly. “What did you do last night?”
Your mouth opened in mock annoyance, he couldn’t possibly know—
“For your information, sir,” you mocked. “I went out with Penelope last night.”
Whatever glimmer of hope Aaron had cultivated to tease you about taking work back home was extinguished in a second. He sat back in his chair, inaudibly admitting defeat.
“Maybe that’s what you need too,” you started, your heart racing once more. His eyebrows shot up and you could tell his blood had also gotten to his head. “Ask someone out, go on a date, get laid.”
That caught him off guard completely. If he had been sipping on his coffee he would’ve choked, made an even bigger fool of himself. But instead his cheeks just reddened, his ears quickly following suit, a detail he knew you knew about him as you’d pointed it out many times in the past.
But you didn’t today, you didn’t say anything about his reaction but he was too hot to notice it right away.
“It’s what I have to do too, honestly,” you shrugged, faux confidence somehow allowing you to not combust right then and there.
“Do you now?” he managed through gritted teeth, the idea of you dating something that he made sure never to think about because it always led him down a dark path of rage and an ungodly desire to ravage you to the point where you belonged to him and no one else.
“Yeah,” you drawled on, almost sighing dramatically. That’s when he caught on, when his brain finally reconnected to his body and his heart only sped up even more. “But I don’t know…I’m not really into any of the guys Penelope or Emily have tried to set me up with, they’re not really my type.”
God, this was not actually happening. “What is your type?”
“Crime fighting single dads who adore their kids and participate in triathlons for fun,” there was no misinterpreting it now.
“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” the words flew out of his mouth before either of you could register them.
A bright smile took over your lips, your eyes sparkling with happiness. A shy smile slowly started to turn adorably embarrassed on his, his gaze tentatively raising to meet yours, eyebrows raised almost pleading, his eyes round and hopeful.
“I would love to,” you said and he graced you with the most beautiful full smile you’d ever seen from him. It was unrestricted, genuine, life giving.
“Great,” he cleared his throat as the clock struck eight, the reality of the world outside of your little office bubble a reminder of where you were. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”
“Can’t wait,” you reassured him, standing up with your own untouched coffee mug and making your way downstairs. “Oh, and it’s my treat. Trust me.”
You were gone before he could argue, but you knew that he couldn’t stop smiling, the warmth radiating from him was enough for you know it deep in your bones.
“Babygirl,” Morgan asked aloud, holding up the list of bets that Penelope had left on his desk earlier as the blonde returned to the bullpen from her office. “What’s this?”
He tapped on the bet you’d written down, the other agents gathering to inspect the new addition.
“Proof of my victory, Derek,” you said cockily as Penelope handed you the envelope full of cash.
The entire team turned to you, eyes wide and anger slowly boiling. But none of them let it out, instead they all looked impressed, they respected the move, the hustle, the boldness. Morgan scoffed in proud defeat as he held out his fist for you to bump, and you did, excitedly.
It had finally happened, the start of something that had been brewing for months, and you couldn’t be happier. While the girls walked up to you to get all the details you shot Aaron a cheeky glance as Penelope filled Emily and JJ in on your conversation the night before, and for the first time ever, Aaron allowed himself to meet your glance, unashamed to be caught staring at you.
i've been smiling like an idiot all day
taglist: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer, @mrs-ssa-hotch
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fluff#hotch x you#hotch x reader#show your fangs writes#moments on ao3#show your fangs hotch blurbs#show your fangs moments au
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Can you do a blurb about tooney where reader is shorter than her.
sorry seems to be the hardest word II e.toone
"oh for fuck sakes." you grumbled to yourself, hunting around for your training jacket but unable to find it. "ella!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, unsure where your girlfriend actually was in your shared home, head still buried in your wardrobe as footsteps raced upstairs.
"ya called baby?" the girl appeared as her thick accent sounded behind you. "where is my jacket?" you asked her seriously, raising an eyebrow to show you weren't messing about. the smug smile on her face was all the confirmation you needed that she was up to her usual tricks.
"don't know love. have ya properly looked for it?" she asked innocently and your eyes narrowed. "we needed to leave five minutes ago and i am not in the mood. where the fuck is my jacket el?" you warned, your girlfriend gesturing for you to step aside with a shoo of her hands.
reaching up she grabbed it from the very top shelf making you sigh, deeply unamused. the taller girls most favourite way to wind you up was to pick on you for your height, specifically to hide things where she knew you'd need her help to get them down.
"now what would ya do without me hmm?" the mancunian grinned, holding your jacket out of your reach as you grabbed for it. "ah ah ah. now say thank you baby, i love ya." ella teased, stretching her arm up higher as you huffed.
"thank you baby, now give me my fucking jacket or i swear to god i'll kill you in your sleep." you smiled dangerously through gritted teeth, ella dropping the jacket on your head in response.
"short and fiesty. that's how i like my women!" the girl smacked your bum with a whistle as you were distracted with your jacket, the murderous look sent her way having her sprinting out of your bedroom.
"come on love! god you're always makin us so late."
~
at the training grounds, it would seem that this morning was only the beginning as ella continued to go out of her way to mess with you.
"you are joking me." you grumbled under your breath, returning from the bathroom to see your boots had magically gone missing from where they were previously sat under your cubby.
"maz did you see where ella put my boots?" you sighed to the older woman who sent you a sympathetic smile. "i only just arrived, stuck in bloody traffic, sorry babe." mary apologised as you nodded in understanding, spotting ella speaking with maya on the other side of the room.
"toone!" you growled in warning, maya seeing the clearly pissed off look on your face and hurrying away as you stormed over toward them. your girlfriend however seemed only amused at your reaction, spreading out with her hands behind her head and a smile on her face.
"ya called?" she sung out staring up at you. "where are my boots ella?" you asked, staring at her with a pained expression. "now why would i know that love? are ya losing your things again?" the midfielder pouted sarcastically making your blood boil further.
"go and get them, now." you demanded, pointing to your cubby as she remained unmoved and you heard the training staff blow the whistle to signal you were all expected on the pitch.
"ella!" you repeated with a slight whine when she didn't move. "tooney! get your girls boots, everyone knows you obviously hid them mate." mary stuck up for you, clapping your back with her gloved hand and pointing menacingly at your girlfriend before she filed out after everyone else.
"i think ya should cheer up baby." ella teased, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek and sprinting out of the change rooms as you yelled after her. "the fucking cheek of her." you looked over to your cubby and from a distance were finally able to see your boots placed on top of your locker.
with a defeated groan you stood up on the bench of your cubby, but even stretching on the tips of your toes you were still unable to reach your boots.
glancing around desperately you jumped down and grabbed a spare corner flag pole from the training room, sprinting back and successfully knocking your boots down with it.
putting them on in record time you hurried out to the pitch, the rest of the girls already split up and having commenced the mornings first drills.
"y/l/n seven minutes late means seven laps. go!" marc called out as your body crumpled but you nodded, most of your friends sending you sympathetic looks.
you knew ella would be one of them but your body burning with anger at her you refused to look her direction, starting your laps and cursing the mancunian responsible to the high heavens under your breath.
~
if ella hadn't already figured out after your laps that you were pissed off with her, the fact you'd refused to look or speak to her at all since had really solidified that she had taken things too far.
all day she had been calling out encouragement your way, trying over and over to get back in your good books to no avail and much to the amusement of your teammates.
"dog house for you tonight then tooney." millie teased as you all finished for the day, headed back toward the change room as you walked ahead with mary and hayley.
"yeah mate give us a call once you're locked out, you can crash on my couch." maya smacked her on the back of the head as ella shoved her away with a dirty look, only furthering both girls amusement as the teasings continued.
"you can walk home." you spoke bluntly to your girlfriend, kit bag already slung over your shoulder not bothering to shower as you swiftly exited the change room, the whistles and jeerings sent ella's way causing her face to burn bright red.
"nope! you give her some space, i'll drive you home in a bit." mary grabbed the back of the younger girls top as she grabbed her things to hurry after you, pushing her back to sit down with a firm look as ella tried to protest but fell silent, instead sulking in the corner like a scorned child.
~
"go on then, grovelling time." mary pulled up out the front of your shared home, nodding for ella to get out as she took a deep breath, thanking the older girl and slipping out of the car.
she fumbled around with her keys, trying to open the door but frowning as it stayed closed.
"oh fucking come on." she kicked at the wood with a frustrated huff realising you'd locked the deadbolt, which only your keys had a copy of. "baby come on! let us in." ella whined, knocking loudly on the door and hearing footsteps come her way.
"oh sorry i'm too short to reach it." you spat bitterly, crossing your arms and glaring at the closed door as ella sighed, head thumping softly at the wood.
"love i know i took it way too far. please let me in to make it up to ya!" ella begged, flowers in hand ready to give to you that she'd made mary stop and allow her to buy.
"oh sorry can't hear you? your head is just so much further away from me since you're so much taller. hope the welcome mat makes a comfy pillow!" you mocked, and ella groaned louder as your footsteps retreated away from the door.
slumping down against the door with a huff ella wracked her brain on how she could try to get back in your good graces. she came up with one idea, but it was shit.
however unable to come up with anything else, she had no choice but to go for it.
so dropping her bag by her feet she cleared her throat and began to count herself in, you listening from a few feet away with a frown. unsure if she was trying to rile herself up to kick the door down, something you'd not put past her.
but much to your shock, she instead began to sing.
"what've I gotta do to make you love me?
what've I gotta do to make you care?
what do I do when lightning strikes me?" ella began to belt out the lyrics to sorry seems to be the hardest word to say by none other than elton john.
"oh my god." you mumbled to yourself, unable to stop the smile which grew on your face as ella continued, confidence growing as she sang louder and louder with each verse.
"it's sad, so sad
why can't we talk it over?
when, it seems to me
that sorry seems to be the hardest word!" you heard her pause, as if waiting for the door to unlock or you to say something before she continued.
"what do I do
to make you want me?
what I got to do
to be heard?
what do I say when it's all over?
sorry seems to be the hardest word!"
"baby are ya really gonna make me sing the whole song? the neighbors are out watchin me!" ella paused to yell with a groan.
"yes! keep going." you called back as you heard her sigh and continue, again getting louder and somehow more and more off tone with each line.
"what have I got to do?
what have I got to do?
when sorry seems to be the hardest word!" ella finished, carrying the final word on for at least thirty seconds before falling silent.
with an amused smile you shook your head and undid the deadbolt, swinging the door open to face her.
"thank you! she'll be here all week." you called out to your neighbours over her shoulder, waving at them on their front lawn with a grin as their laughter grew and ellas face flushed bright red.
grabbing your hand she gently pushed you back inside, kicking her bag in and firmly closing the door with a relieved sigh.
"did we learn our lesson then?" you enquired, crossing your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow. "yes. no more hidin things!" ella sighed with a shake of her head.
"i am very very very very very sorry baby. forgive us?" ella asked hopefully, holding out the flowers to you which you accepted with a nod. "you are cooking dinner, cleaning up afterwards, giving me a massage and doing all the laundry tomorrow." you warned, ella nodding eagerly before she pounced on you, pulling you into a passionate smooch and mumbling yet another apology against your lips.
leaving her to take her trainers off and unpack her bag you made your way to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in, popping them in a vase and grabbing out some juice to drink. though as you opened the cupboard to grab out a glass your eyes narrowed and your jaw clenched.
"ella why the fuck are all the cups and mugs on the very top shelf!?"
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Good Ol’ Days
Summary: In which you find out that Price used to be a barrack bunny. 18+
Pairing: John Price x Top Male Reader
He doesn’t remember how they had stumbled across the dreadful conversation. Maybe he should blame the Scotsman’s loose lips? Or maybe the man that hides behind a balaclava? Or maybe even the youngest of the group who approached everything with an awful lot of curiosity?
“You would know all about being a barrack’s bunny wouldn’t you cap?” Says the Scotsman with a playful slap to the older man’s back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gaz says, face pinched in confusion, putting down the drink he’d be nursing.
Curiosity can even be seen in the masked man’s eyes as he now also turns to look at the older man.
However Price couldn’t care less about any of their reactions except for yours but as he turns to meet your gaze, he only sees an indecipherable look on your face.
Fuck
This isn’t how he wanted his new boyfriend to find out that he got fucked by half the barracks.
It’s not like Price had tried to hide it. He’s been open with the fact that he’s slept with men before, and that dating a man wasn’t his first rodeo.
But you were just getting to know each other properly and there were still plenty of things he had to tell you about his life, especially this part. And now it’s all been aired out and not by his own accord but because of the yapping group of men who aren’t even aware of the fact that the two of you are dating.
He doesn’t dare imagine what must be going through your head right now but one thing is for sure he'd tell his side of the story before you could get any ideas of your own.
Price throws back the remaining liquor in his glass, sits straight in his chair before giving the three men a pointed look while vehemently avoiding your gaze.
“Whatever I say here stays here or I put a hole through you, is that clear ?”
A chorus of yes sir echoes throughout the room. Price only dares spare you a glance through the corner of his eyes before he starts explaining himself.
“It was way back in the day” Price says with a shrug, trying to act as casual as possible while fidgeting with the now empty glass in his hand. “Didn’t even have a name for it back then, you’d just go to someone to get rid of all that excess energy, easiest thing would be going to someone you spent most of your days with”
“Someone ? More like the whole barrack” Soap chirps in but quiets down when he’s met with a glare from the older man.
“Could be” Price says before he finally dares meet your gaze “wasn’t always the case”
“Not always eh- so it did happen captain?”
Price breaks his stare to face the Scotsman instead. “Now that is none of your business Mactavish” Price snaps back causing Soap along with the other two men to burst out in a chorus of laughter.
The topic is quickly dropped, conversation moves along but Price feels your eyes linger on him for the rest of the night.
The five of you soon part ways, deciding to call it a night and a silence falls over the two of you as you walk to your room. Price wants to say something but manages to come up with nothing. All that’s going through his head is the images that must be running through yours.
John barrack bunny price
He almost scoffs at himself, fingers digging into the palm of his hand.
It’s not like Price had done anything wrong. It’s not wrong to have an active sex life, a very active sex life. However he wishes that he had the opportunity to tell you that himself because he would’ve, eventually, and not a way where you’d be imagining him getting fucked by half the barracks day in and day out.
You barley manage to step foot inside your room before Price starts the conversation.
“I can see you thinking from way over here you know” he says with a small smile on his face as he sits down on your bed “you can ask about it”
As soon as the words leave his lips you’re swiftly making your way over to him, and plopping down next to him.
“So barrack bunny” you say with a smirk on your face, and he feels the heat creep up his neck, ears and cheek.
“Please don’t use that word” he says, face scrunching up at your choice of words.
“I’m sorry- it’s just- I mean it’s not like I didn’t think you led a life before me it’s just that I didn’t expect- “
“For me to be fucked by half the barracks?” He quips in.
“Hey” you say eyes snapping toward his “you know that’s not what I mean “
“I know” he says with a chuckle before he starts to explain “like I said things were very different back then. There were barely any gay bars around and if you dared visit one you’d be good as dead,”
“But the army? It’s not like-“
“You’d be surprised kid” Price snorts, mindlessly fidgeting with his fingers.
You just nod your head, silently processing what he’d just said.
“So you aren’t upset?” He says, worrying his bottom lip as he pears up at you through his lashes.
“No. Why would I be?” You say face pinched in confusion. “If anything I’m a bit embarrassed. I mean here I am offering to teach you things when all along you could’ve been the one teaching me”
“Sergeant” Price scolds but you see a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.
“What captain? It’s kind of hot “ you say smile growing larger as you inch closer to him.
“Seriously kid?” He snorts, no longer bothering to hide his smile.
“Mm” you say before you place a kiss on his neck as your hands latch onto his hips “Something else you want to tell me? Am I dating someone’s ex husband? Is your ex spouse going to burst through the door right now and catch us in the act hm? You say nipping at his ear and hearing a shaky breath escape his lips.
“You’re ah- you’re unbelievable you know?” He grunts out but you feel the prominent bulge in his pants.
“And you’re hard” you say, hand groping him through him through his clothing, hearing the way a moan escapes his lips.
“And do you plan to do something about it or should I go-“
But just as he tries to finish his sentence you smash your lips together and he can’t help but smile into this kiss, feeling completely breathless when you pull away from it.
It doesn’t take much before clothes are thrown all over the floor, and he’s laying sprawled out on the bed while you reach for the bottle of lube that you keep on the nightstand.
As you pour a generous amount in your hand you feel his own hand cup your cheek
“I-uh I haven’t done that in a long time so you know” he says, silently gesturing to what he means while feeling heat creep up his face “not since you walked through the door that day,”
“I know” you say with a big smile on your face.
“Cocky bas-“ but before he can say anything else you’re smashing your lips together.
It was a different time back then. Every encounter was brief and rushed and hidden away in the dark.
Price doesn’t want that anymore. He wants you to see him falling apart under your touch. He wants you to take your time with his body, spending however long you want taking him apart. He wants what you two have to last for the rest of his life.
Spitball w/ me?
#this is for my sugar 🔮 anonie#call of duty#john price#john price x reader#john price x male reader#captain john price#captain john price x male reader#captain john price x reader#top male reader#dom male reader#sub male character#bottom male character#tbh nothing explicitly we kept it sweet let’s go
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in your head, on your mind // Jordan Li x Reader, Part 2
the brainrot only increases day by day. i want to be them. i want to fuck them. i cannot decide which one of those options i want to do more. anyways, here's part 2. thanks for all the love and support on part 1!
word count: 1874
previous part // next part
You ended up texting with Jordan for most of the night, smiling and giggling to yourself as your roommates slept across the room, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. It was hard though - with every text you found yourself more and more enthralled with Jordan. Everything about them, their sense of humor, their obvious intelligence, the way that they blended flirting with casual conversation, just made you like them more. And the fact that you couldn’t read their thoughts over text only added to the experience. Made it authentic - what were they thinking about right now? You couldn’t know. It was intoxicating.
Around three in the morning, when you were finally ready to pass out, you made plans to hit the gym together tomorrow.
Which is why you loiter in front of the gym now, checking and re-checking your phone to see if they’ve texted you again. It’s 1:57, three minutes before you said you would meet up, though you’ve been waiting for at least five minutes more. Anxious. Excited. Thinking about them already.
…be perfectly fine, you’ve got this. It’s not even like a real date or anything, you’re just hitting the gym. Casually. Casual. Okay. Oh, fuck okay. Wow. You look really good in workout gear.
You pick up on their thoughts before you see them, just as anxious and excited as your own. Turning, you smile as they come into view, today in their masculine form, dressed in a loose tank top and baggy sweatpants. “Hi Jordan.”
“Hi.” They say, a smile stretching across their lips. “You look nice.”
“You said.” You say. “Or, thought, rather.”
Right. You’re in my head now, shit. Different than text. “Still thought I should say it out loud.” They say with a shrug.
“I appreciate it.” You say, and you do. It isn’t often that people take to repeating what they’re thinking in speech once they learn you can hear their thoughts.
For a moment, the air is silent between the two of you and you simply look at each other. They really are pretty - you could fall into those chocolate eyes and never be able to find your way out. And their hair, you so desperately want to run your fingers through it, it looks so silky smooth.
You smile as Jordan’s thoughts - much the same as your own - run through your head. You’re so fucking pretty its unreal. I can’t believe you said yes to hanging out. I can’t believe we spent all night texting each other - when was the last time I did that? Like highschool probably. I need to pump the breaks dude fuck. Sorry. I’m sorry.
“You don’t have to apologize-” You start.
“I know, it’s just- I’m not used to it yet.” They say, pulling open the door to the gym for you.
You walk inside, hit by the smell of sweat and rubber and the metallic tang of blood all at once. The sounds of working out - machinery clanging, grunting, screams of pain, echo around the place mixing together with the generic pop music playing over the gym speakers. You hover near the entrance, waiting for Jordan to take the lead.
“I, um, took the liberty of reserving a sparring room for us.” They say, voice raised a little over the din. “We don’t have to though - I mean, that’s just usually what I do to work out.” No pressure if you don’t want to touch me. I didn’t mean it like that - you already know.
“Sparring’s fine, yeah.” You say. “Thanks for getting a room.”
“‘Course.” Jordan says, starting towards the back of the gym, where the sparring rooms are located. You follow in their wake, passing hordes of your sweaty peers, all focused on bettering themselves. It is easy to tune out the telepathic chatter when you are inclined to focus on Jordan anyway.
It isn’t a far walk to the sparring rooms, and Jordan pulls open the door to room five, holding it open for you to walk in. Like the rest of the sparring rooms, it’s completely padded - ceiling and all - to minimize the amount of damage students would do to each other. A circle is drawn out on the center of the floor, a boundary to use for a more traditional match. You drop your gym bag near the door, and turn to Jordan.
“So what rules do you usually go by?” You ask.
“Hand to hand only, no powers if you can help it but I guess since you can’t really turn yours off don’t worry about that.” They say. “Uh, we can use the circle if you want but usually me and whoever I’m sparring with just go until someone’s pinned.”
“That sounds fine to me.” You say. “And since I can’t not use my powers, I think you should be able to use yours too. Just to be fair.”
Jordan purses their lips. I would throw you through these walls with my energy blasts. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” You say. And then, planting your voice in their head, “I trust you to be gentle with me.”
Jordan’s cheeks tint red. “Okay.” They clear their throat, and set their own gym bag down. “Stretch first?”
You stretch together, working through most of the usual positions and then some that you hadn’t heard of before at Jordan’s prompting. Now, feeling nice and limber, you stand in the center of the room, across from Jordan, your fists raised in front of you, ready to strike. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Jordan raises their own fists, adjusting their stance. For a moment, everything is still.
You know they’re going to move before they do it.
Jordan lunges forward, but you’re already darting back, finely tuned into their thoughts, able to counter every move they make before they’ve even finished deciding to do it. When you’d first arrived at GodU, people had underestimated you, thinking your power couldn’t be practically applied in combat situations. How wrong they were.
Yeah I figured as much. Jordan, unsurprised, changes forms, trying again to land a hit now in their more lithe female body. Still, you’re able to stay one step ahead, dodging the moment they begin to swing, darting back as soon as they lift their foot from the mat to kick at you. You take the opportunity to land a sharp hit on their side, right between two of their ribs, and then another in the center of their stomach.
Damn, okay Y/N, packing a punch. Jordan groans, but doesn’t stop, instead doing their best to return the hits. You dart away again - keeping yourself one step ahead and an arm’s length away.
It goes like that for a while - you, carefully in tune with Jordan’s every move, and Jordan, growing more and more frustrated as they fail time and time again to land a punch. It’s fun, listening to their thoughts grow more and more frantic, strategizing and re-strategizing ways to knock you off your guard, and you find yourself biting back a smile, not wanting to infuriate them further. You’re winning without a doubt, until-
Is this what it’s going to be like when we fuck?
Jordan’s thought throws you off your rhythm, and you falter, their fist breezing past your face as you barely move away in time. They grin, and you hear their voice in your head; what? I thought you were used to that sort of thing?
It’s true, you had told them that it happened more often than you liked to admit - and it did, but never in a situation like this. In a fight, most people were focused on well… the fight. Not…
God, your shoulders look so good in that shirt. You should get more shirts like that. I want to sink my teeth into your muscles.
Jordan throws another punch, and you only narrowly dodge it again, doing your best to ignore the way they’re thinking about you. It’s hard though, when you’re so focused on their thoughts anyway to try and keep ahead of their punches. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks.
It all comes to a head when Jordan actually lands a hit on you because you were distracted by the image of you and them, pressed against the lockers of the locker room, making out with furious intensity. There was a quality to the thought that made you think it wasn’t the first time Jordan had conjured this image - but it was the sharp change in focus that actually made you falter.
Jordan lands one hit, and then their hand wraps around your arm. Before you can wiggle free, they shift into their male form, grip tightening. I’m going to throw you to the floor.
If it had been anyone else, the thought would have sparked fear. But instead, excitement swirls in your stomach.
As gently as someone can throw someone else to the ground, Jordan flips you. You land on your back against the cushioned floor, the impact radiating through your whole body. Before you can scramble back to your feet, Jordan - still masculine and therefore immovable - pins you down, almost laying on top of you.
“I win.” They say, lips only inches from yours. I could kiss you right now. Would you let me? You don’t have to.
You press your lips together, fighting off a smile as you pretend to struggle in their grip. “Fine you win. What kind of prize do you want?”
“Don’t tempt me.” They say, eyes darkening as their pupils widen ever so slightly. Fuck. Do you mean that?
You smile, and wind your thoughts into theirs. You don’t get to fuck me - not yet anyway - but I’ll kiss you if you still want it.
The second the thought registers, Jordan is pressing their lips to yours, roughly, hungrily, like they’ve been waiting. You know they’ve been waiting - you can feel it in their thoughts, in the way that they run a hand down your side like if they stop touching you you’ll disappear. As soon as you feel them let their guard down, you flip the both of you over, giving yourself a turn to hover over them.
Their eyes widen as you break the kiss to start leaving little kisses along their jaw, working towards their neck. Oh fuck. You can’t- you said we can’t fuck right now, you cant start kissing me there- fuck. I can’t fight this boner-
They shift under you, reverting back into their female form. You take it in stride, still continuing your path to the sweet spot beneath their ear. You suck hard on the delicate skin once you land, and they groan deep in their throat, pushing their chest up against yours as their eyes roll into their head. You pull back to enjoy their reaction, and when they open their eyes again, you smile.
“I wouldn’t have been offended by a boner, you didn’t have to switch to hide it.” You say.
Jordan smiles. “Habit, sorry.” They pause. “Um.” I need to go home and jerk off. Like right now. Sorry. “We should do this again, sometime.”
You roll off of them, smiling as you plop down on the matted floor. “For sure.”
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Imagine this…. for the young daryl X young reader au
Reader has a camcorder which she carries around when her and daryl go on little trips and they end up finding it again after years for whatever reason and it’s a nice little fluffy scene where they relive earlier times together before everything
A Trip Down Memory Lane | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: While unpacking your things for your new apartment with Daryl, you stumbled across an old video camera you had used to film little moments between you and Daryl in your teen years. A visit down memory lane gives Daryl the push he needed to ask you something important.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word count: 1.5k
A/n: This request was so cute! I hope you don't mind that I paired it with another idea I had. It just seemed like it would fit perfectly. And I made Daryl romantic in this because he's a romantic deep down.
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Dear god, what the fuck was I thinking? That style was horrible!”
Daryl laughed at your comment, pulling you closer into his side. “I think ya looked cute. Kinda like Minnie Mouse in a way.”
“That doesn't make it any less horrible. Polka dots and frilly pink headbands are not my thing,” you laughed, skipping to the next video on the video camera you had found.
You and Daryl were in the midst of unpacking the boxes with all of your things. The two of you had just recently found a cheap enough apartment to rent and were busy organising everything when you had stumbled upon an old video camera that you had used when you were teenagers. Everything else was quickly forgotten as you and Daryl sat in the middle of what should be the living room, surrounded by a bunch of boxes as you took a trip down memory lane.
“Fuck, please tell me tha' ain't me,” Daryl groaned when a younger version of him appeared on the screen. “Jesus, buddy. Ya ever heard of sunlight? It'd do ya good to work on yer tan. Ya look like a fuckin' sheet of paper.”
You chuckled at the comment, nodding your head in agreement. “You do kinda look pale in this.”
“Looks like I needed at least 50 blood transfusions. M'surprised I didn't drop dead back then,” Daryl agreed, shaking his head in disapproval of his former self. “Can't believe s'already been a decade. Feels like jus' yesterday when we were back in yer mom's trailer.”
“Time flies. Now we're moving in to what is hopefully our last apartment for a while. You've got a great job down at that motorcycle repair shop and I've got a great teaching gig,” you replied, placing the video camera down next to you.
Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he agreed, before giving you a playful smile. “Dun' know 'bout yer gig, though. Those five year olds are gremlins. They're gon' eat ya alive when ya start on Monday. Ya dun' stand a chance.”
You faked an offended gasp and shoved him lightly, eliciting a laugh from him. “I'll have you know, Mr Dixon, that I'm more than capable of handling a couple of five year olds. I've been doing it for two years.”
Daryl smiled and pulled you closer into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I know. S'those high schoolers yer plannin' on teachin' one day tha's gon' eat ya up. Teenagers are the real ones ya should look out for.”
“Luckily that won't be for a while. I'm quite content on just teaching the little ones for now,” you responded, nuzzling your face into his chest. “And teenagers aren't that bad. Most of them are just misunderstood. Some of them are in situations a lot like—”
Despite cutting yourself off, Daryl knew exactly what you meant. If it were any other person, Daryl would've gotten pissed, but it wasn't just any other person. It was you, the love of his life, the person who's stuck with him despite everything, because of everything. He wouldn't fault you for one slip up. God only knows he'd said so much worse a couple of years ago, but you forgave him.
You were amazing to him like that.
“Situations a lot like wha' I went through,” Daryl finished for you, letting out a deep sigh.
“Sorry,” you hurriedly apologised, pulling back slightly to look into your boyfriend's eyes. “I didn't mean to bring it up. I—”
A tender kiss to your lips shut you up instantly. When Daryl pulled back, he gave you a reassuring smile. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he'd get mad at you for one minor slip of the tongue.
“S'alrigh',” he reassured you. “M'not mad. And yer righ'. There's way too many kids tha' go through wha' I went through. Tha's why any highschool would be lucky to have ya. Ya could help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. No, ya will help a lot of kids in situations like tha'. Jus' like ya helped me.”
You smiled and gently cupped his cheek, bringing him into a sweet kiss. “I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away, resting your forehead against his.
“I love ya too. More than ya'll ever know,” he responded, before pulling away and reaching for something in his pocket. “But maybe this will give ya a glimmer of how much I love ya.”
You gasped in surprise, happy tears welling up in your eyes. A choked up laugh escaped you, ecstasy flooding through your body as your eyes flickered between the man you loved and the small, round object he held delicately between his fingers.
A ring.
“I know this ain't the most expensive ring out there, and it dun' have some big diamond in the middle tha's worth more than this apartment, but m'hopin' s'enough. If I could get a better one, I would, and I will someday. Someday when I finally get promoted and yer teachin' high schoolers, when we dun' have to worry 'bout rent and shit like tha'.”
You smiled through your tears, another small laugh escaping. “Daryl—”
“Nah, please let me finish 'fore I chicken out,” he cut you off. When you nodded, he continued. “Ya've always been there fer me. Ever since we were twelve and ya started joinin' me by tha' river. When I needed ya the most, ya were always there with a reassurin' smile and a willin' ear. Then ya became my girlfriend ten years ago, and despite everythin', ya've stuck with me. Despite my outbursts, my baggage, my brother...”
You laughed at that. “I really don't like your brother.”
Daryl chuckled and nodded. “I know, but ya stayed. Fer ten years now, ya've been by my side. Yer my best friend, my partner in crime, the love of my life, and there's no one I wanna spend the rest of my days with than the beautiful, kind, funny, smart woman right in front of me. Yer my ray of sunshine, the one who always manages to make me feel better.”
Daryl adjusted himself until he was on one knee in front of you. Your breath got caught in your throat, and you scrambled to sit on your knees, your eyes sparkling in wonder as the ring glinted in the light.
“Sunshine, would ya do me the honour of bein' my wife?”
Words completely eluded you at that moment. You quickly grabbed his face and brought him into a kiss, that particular kiss conveying more than words ever could. When you pulled away, you smiled softly at him.
“Yes, I'll marry you. You didn't even have to ask.”
Daryl let out a sigh of relief and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, tha' was nerve wrackin'.”
You laughed as you pulled away from the hug. “I bet. You know, for a man of few words, that speech was kind of incredible. It definitely beat the one I had planned for you.”
Daryl frowned in confusion. “Wha' speech fer me?”
Nervously, you reached into your own pocket and pulled out a silver band. Daryl's eyes widened in surprise as you showed him the ring you had.
“I was kinda getting fed up with waiting for you to pop the question, so I was gonna take matters into my own hands.”
Daryl let out a laugh of surprise and shook his head. “Wow,” he mused. “Gender roles be damned, huh?”
“Damn straight,” you agreed, before motioning to the ring in his hand. “You can slip the ring on my finger, Mr Dixon.”
Complying with your request, he slipped the ring onto your finger. Before you even had to ask, Daryl extended his left hand to you. You smiled and slipped his own ring onto his finger.
Looking at the ring, Daryl smiled fondly. “Ya continue to surprise me everyday, Mrs Dixon.”
“I'm not a Dixon yet,” you reminded him, allowing him to pull you into his arms for the millionth time that day. “But I could be one soon. Maybe tomorrow, even.”
“Ya suggestin' we elope?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at the idea—an idea that sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Yer mom would kill us if she found out.”
“Well,” you began, admiring the ring on your finger. “It's better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Besides, we don't need some elaborate wedding to show how much we love each other. All we need is each other, and someone willing to officiate. We can go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Tha' sounds absolutely perfect,” Daryl agreed, pressing a kiss to your head.
“By the way, if you buy me another ring in the future to replace this one, I will be pissed. This ring is perfect.”
“Whatever makes ya happy, Mrs Dixon. I love ya.”
“I love you too.”
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#shopping spree hangout dreams#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl x reader#twd daryl#the walking dead#norman reedus x reader#norman reedus#young!daryl#young!daryl dixon#young daryl dixon
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Arguing with Levi over something stupid and ur honestly tired of the whole thing so you just him with “Whatever you say beautiful” and he just turns his nose up and starts stumbling over his words
summary ♡ what the request says!
pairing ♡ levi colwill x gn!reader
content ♡ fluff, attempting to settle a classic british debate, cursing, reader is so over levi
a/n ♡ this is most probably not the argumentative scenario that anon had in mind but i fell into my silly guy tendencies >_< tysmm anon for requesting this & i hope u enjoyyyy <3<3
it’s been over forty-five minutes of the same aggravation from your boyfriend, or at least you assume so — you stopped keeping tabs a while ago, so incredibly tired of arguing with him over something so silly. sunday afternoons were supposed an agreed time for relaxation but today’s snack time was far from that after levi clocked the way you prepare your scones.
“it’s clearly jam first; you spread that shit with a knife then dollop the cream on top,” levi’s hands move maniacally, mimicking the same actions that he’s describing. “how would cream first make sense?”
“i dunno, babe. spread the cream then dollop the jam?” between brief chews of sweet cream-first scones, your words come across as way too nonchalant for the chelsea boy and a shrug from your shoulders to pair with them makes him even more incredulous.
“that’s fucking disgusting.”
an exasperated groan leaves your lips as you push back the stool that you’re sitting on at the island and reach your destination of the fridge, routing through tubs and packets for a refreshing bottle of orange juice.
“levi, if you don’t like it, don’t eat it.” there’s silence from levi as the sound of juice pouring into glass fills the atmosphere, and you can tell the cogs of pettiness are turning in your boyfriend’s brain. it’s the way his eyes narrow at you (you swear that if he were a cartoon character, he’d be shooting lasers at you right now) and his bottom lip juts out just the slightest, thinking about how to get one over you since he actually does want to eat the sweet treats that you had gotten up extra early to make.
“no, no, i have to show you how to do it properly, yeah?” a little point of the butter knife in his hand at you and the boy’s now giving you an unsolicited demonstration of how to layer that jam-cream combo. “so, what you do, yeah, is put the knife into the jam jar and the–”
you seriously can’t take this anymore, fearful that your eyes may get stuck in your skull if you roll them one more time.
“yeah, yeah, whatever you say, beautiful.”
and it takes just that to have your boyfriend drop the butter knife in the jam, falling over his words as he struggles to get them out and make his case. it will always be the way you say that word and more so say it to him, about him, that will run his mouth dry of anything against you.
“uh, yeah, well… look, uh–”
a playful smirk from you has his heart squeezing in the best way.
“are we done here, levi? because i would really like us to stop arguing over fucking jam and cream and go cuddle on the couch now.”
you call the shots every time and levi can’t help but drop his case entirely, following you like a lovesick puppy to the sofa where you’ve taken the plate of scones along with their matching condiments, laying them out on the coffee table for him.
“show us how it’s done then, pretty boy.”
#levi @ reader after they called him beautiful: fragmen- woo uuhh- sca- uhh fragment foot bullet fragment foot bitch!!!#hi btw . if u even care#this came out a little later than intended bc mental illness is beating me arseee#rlly hope u all like it tho!!! 💕💕#levi colwill#levi colwill imagine#levi colwill fluff#levi colwill x reader#levi colwill x you#levi colwill x y/n#footballer fluff#footballer imagine#football imagine#anon#˗ˏˋ ✉️ ˎˊ˗#-ˋˏ✄┈ saleeba’s snippets
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freesia [flower garden — wooyoung]
inspired by: stranger than friends — webtoon
in which: all wooyoung wants is someone to love him.
pair: college student!wooyoung/gn!reader
word count: 1.6k
content: fluff, childish and immature (but trustworthy) wooyoung, a lot of drunk wooyoung, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of swearing
rating: PG/PG-13 | safe for work!
flower garden masterlist
"I'm so over this! I hate love!"
"Jung Wooyoung, I swear to God—"
"No, Kang Yeosang, you don't understand! I am tired! I am tired of being alone! I'm tired of seeing the four of you dating and having the time of your lives while me? Wither poor fucking Wooyoung," a very drunk Wooyoung exclaimed at the top of his lungs.
"I think you're going to have a hard time because of, well, this," San pointed out— he thought he was being helpful, but he most certainly was not.
"Shut the fuck up, Choi San," the drunken boy mumbled before taking a giant swig from the shared vodka bottle sitting in the middle of the group.
"Sure, because none of us wanted more vodka," Yunho grimaced.
Wooyoung shot the boy a stink eye before falling to the ground. He was fine— he was just being dramatic and falling to the ground like a damsel in distress. The boys knew this routine of his at this point, and instead of console him like the had done countless times in the past, they just ignored him.
"Seriously, Wooyoung. I didn't find my significant other by acting like this," Mingi said with a gentle sigh. "You gotta change this attitude of yours."
"What attitude?"
"This one! This childish and immature ass of yours!" Yeosang blew up; he was honestly extremely tired of hearing Wooyoung sing the same fucking song over and over again for however long they had been friends.
"What, so I should act like fucking Mr. Prim-and-Proper over here? Or like Mr. Humble-Gentleman over there? I'm not a fucking flower boy," Wooyoung frowned as he pointed to Yunho and San respectively.
"No, you don't have to change who you are, but you could maybe try not acting like a spoiled brat and more like a grown adult," Yunho explained.
"But I'm not a grown adult. I'm a college student. We all are college students. You guys need to act your age."
Then, Wooyoung launched into one of his long rants, making the other four boys officially give up for the night. Talking to a drunk Wooyoung was like talking to an annoying, drunk wall. They just let him burn himself out and continued drinking peacefully amongst each other the second Wooyoung passed out for the night.
The next morning, Wooyoung woke up with the most insane hangover— he had never had a hangover before, so he was honestly shocked and scared.
"I'm gettin' too old for this crud," he started that morning as he plopped himself in the barstool near the kitchen.
"Shut the fuck up. You're a college student," Yunho, who was the first one up that morning, retorted while making his morning coffee. "But you could ease up on the alcohol."
"Gee, you think?"
"Anyway," Yunho side-stepped Wooyoung's heavy sarcasm. "Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Of course I do," Wooyoung said without a hint of sarcasm this time around. "I always remember. I may be drunk, but I'm still mentally there."
"Right. Well, consider it. If you seriously want to be in a relationship, then not acting like a kid may help. People like more mature and serious guys."
"As if you know dating culture so well," Wooyoung scoffed.
"Mmm, considering I've been dating my significant other for five years, I'd say that I know how dating and relationships work by now. More than you for sure."
Wooyoung glared at the tall boy as he smiled smugly at him before heading out of the kitchen to start his day. Checking the time, Wooyoung grumbled to himself as he got himself ready for class. As much as he would love to skip the class he had, it was a lab, and he didn't want to screw over his lab partner. He might've been childish and immature, but you could always trust him to be there at least.
And thankfully for him and his blinding headache, this lab was a darkfield microscopy, which meant that the entire lab was going to be dark. Right before class, he popped a couple of painkillers and stepped into the room to see that they were assigned new lab partners. At first, Wooyoung was resentful because his lab partner was the literal best in dealing with him and his shenanigans, but the second Wooyoung saw who his partner was, he was thanking all the immortal entities in the universe.
He thought it could've been his drunk mind, but you were the most stunning person he had ever met. You were gorgeous with your hair tucked back, and even with the lab goggles on, you had the most beautiful eyes that Wooyoung could spot from miles away. Every single thing you did was so elegant and so graceful, and even though all you were doing was dropping blood onto the slide, it was the most magical thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
What he loved even more was that you would play into his antics. The lab was pretty quiet, so Wooyoung would whisper random jokes here and there to you, and you would respond with the most beautiful chuckle that made his heart swoon over and over and over again. Wooyoung was smitten, obsessed, and dare he say it—
"I'm in love!" Wooyoung cheered at the top of his lungs.
It was boys night again, and this time, Wooyoung was drunk, but he was happy.
"You're weirding me out, lowkey," San watched Wooyoung with wary eyes as he twirled around the dorm.
"San, you don't understand," Wooyoung sighed blissfully. "My lab partner is just... God, my lab partner is perfect. Also! Also, their name!"
He repeated your name, the syllables rolling off his tongue smoothly, your name leaving his lips like a knife cutting through warm butter. And for the rest of the night, that's all he could do. He just kept saying the name of the person he was completely in love with, pissing off his friends in a new way.
Alas, the lab had to end, and Wooyoung feared that you would never speak to him again. You had shared a microscope for a solid two weeks, but neither of you thought to ask to exchange phone numbers. Wooyoung wanted to, don't get him wrong, but every time he thought about doing it, he would chicken out because his heart would be racing at a million miles an hour, and he didn't want you to reject him or for him to have a heart attack just because he was going to ask someone out.
"You just need to ask. It's so simple," Mingi tried helping Wooyoung before he had to go to class.
"Wow, it's as if I didn't consider doing that. Thanks," Wooyoung, using his signature sarcasm, replied.
"Just rip the bandaid off, dude. I don't know what else to tell you. If they reject you, then you just move on. If not, then hooray, your efforts paid off."
"Also, you usually have no shame screaming at the top of your lungs while we're out in public drinking, so why are you finding it so hard to ask someone out?" Yeosang asked.
"Are you saying I should drink then ask them out?"
"No!" both boys chorused at the same time.
"Fucking— Just be yourself, Wooyoung," Yeosang said with a deep sigh. "Just give them a fucking flower and tell them you like them with a dumb joke that you usually make."
"But, I thought you told me I should change? That I should be more mature because people don't like childish, immature guys."
"Don't make me punch you. Get the fuck out, go to class, and for the love of God, just ask."
With Yeosang's words in mind, Wooyoung did exactly that. He was confident and outgoing, so asking you out shouldn't have been as big of a task as he was making it. So, he summoned up all of the courage within him, and he vowed to himself to do it that day.
"Wait! Wait," Wooyoung stopped you after class one day. "I... I want to ask you something."
"What's up?"
"So... Oh my fucking God, I don't know how to say this," Wooyoung muttered to himself, unaware that you could hear him. "Why the fuck is it so hard for me to tell you I like you?"
"I like you too, Wooyoung," you helped him out.
"Oh fuck, you heard that?" Wooyoung covered his mouth, his face turning bright red. "I'm going to jump out the window I'm so embarrassed!"
"Oh my God, Wooyoung! I said I like you too! You don't need to do that!" you couldn't help but laugh when Wooyoung actually turned to look for the nearest window to fling himself out of.
"W-Wait... You like me too?"
"Yeah, I do," you shot him the cutest smile that made him clutch his chest and nearly fall over. "I just didn't want to say anything because... Well, I was unsure because you seem to be like this around everyone, and—"
"No! I'm glad that... That you like me too... And I was wondering..." Wooyoung started mumbling again, his nerves taking over once more despite knowing that his feelings were mutual.
"Here's my phone. Give me your number," you stepped in again, making him wonder if you were reading his mind or if he was talking loud enough under his breath or if you were his freaking soulmate.
Wooyoung's fingers trembled as he typed in his phone number and handed your phone back to you.
"I'll text you," you said, that beautiful smile of yours only getting bigger, your face only getting more sparkly. "Maybe you'll find better words over text."
God, Wooyoung was ready to fall over when you giggled and waved good bye to him, the lovestruck boy motionless in the classroom as he watched the actual love of his life glide out of the room.
"I'm so in love! I love love!"
flower garden masterlist
flower garden taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @khjoongie98
networks: @atzhouse @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @newworldnet @wonderlandnet
#codn: spring 24#atzhouse#cromernet#cultofdionysusnet#newworldnet#wonderlandnet#ateez#jung wooyoung#wooyoung fluff#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung x gn!reader#ateez wooyoung#jung wooyoung ateez#wooyoung ateez#jung wooyoung fluff#broatz#flower garden series#flower garden ateez#Spotify
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