#being good at my job and the kids do like me and all the effort has been worth something :)
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Do you think Ted was a good coach?
Oof. Controversy!
This is a loaded question, because if you look at his end results, you can't deny that he's a "good coach" in the sense that he was able to completely turn the team around and take them to the top of the league. He was definitely doing something right!!
However I feel like I can't really call him a "good coach" with my whole chest because he doesn't know ANYTHING about the sport he's coaching, nor does he really seem to make any effort to learn (like, he doesn't understand the offside rule until 3 years after starting the job. Why?) He's certainly good as part of a coaching team, because he's excellent at building relationships and connecting with his players, but he would be nowhere without Beard, Nate, and Roy, because at the end of the day a team just can't be successful if their coaches don't know anything about the strategy/technique of the game.
Also, Ted's expertise is in coaching kids, not adult professionals, and that really shows in how he handles Richmond sometimes. His whole "winning isn't what's important, it's all about teamwork and having fun and being the best version of yourself :)" is a fantastic mindset for, say, the coach of a little league team, but (as Beard points out) not as wonderful for coaching professionals whose whole job is winning. They're not there to have fun and learn the value of teamwork, they're there to win. I get that the return to football as a fun childhood hobby is a theme on the show, and there's nothing wrong with that, but I feel like Ted doesn't always fully understand the gravity of the sport for people who are truly invested, and he doesn't always do a great job of balancing "having fun and growing as individuals" with like. Doing what these men are paid millions of dollars to do.
As a preschool teacher, I think the way Ted handles conflict is also very reminiscent of how adults handle conflict between young children, which is another thing that would make him a fantastic coach for a kids' team but works against him in a professional setting. In s2, for example, rather than just going to Roy as a superior speaking to an employee and telling him to get over himself and coach Jamie because he's a grownup and that's his job, he tries to get Roy and Jamie to talk it out and come to a resolution like they're two kindergarteners fighting over a toy. He was doing Social Emotional Learning on them, and even though it ultimately benefitted them as individuals, it was not the best or quickest way to deal with a workplace conflict like that between two adults. Can you imagine going to your boss like "hey, the person who's supposed to be training me won't talk to me at all or answer any of my questions and I'm kind of lost" and they were like "lol and what do you expect me to do about that? That's on you, I'm not gonna tell him what to do" insanity
TL;DR I think Ted is fantastic with people and that's a huge asset to him in coaching, but I don't think he knows anywhere near enough about soccer to be a bona fide "good coach" of a professional team. I also think the way he handles his players and their conflicts would be an asset to him if he were a kids' coach or a teacher, but sometimes is frustrating and infantilizing when applied to professionals
#ask#ted lasso#actually when he said 'you want me to tell roy kent what to do!?' I was irritated as hell I was like YES 😭
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Psssssst cmere, hUSH QuiEtLY!!! Gotta tell u sumn a lil secret
You got a secret admirer
-secret admirer
You know when little kids (or sometimes big kids too) whisper “hey, come here, I have a secret” and then when you lean in, they scream in your ear? Thats the feeling I’m getting. 😂 but i’ll huuuuush, because this is very sweet and so cute.
I present to you a picture of the sunset from when I was driving to camp the other week.
Sending all my love and hugs 💕
#lol i want to ask why but thats compliment searching but i just want to know what you seem to like so that i keep doing it if i can?#this is very surprising? like me? what? ive been mia lately and i dont post original thoughts so huh? 😅 but this def made me smile and#and blush youre too kind for stopping by! 💕#(story time - so ive been at camp and this girl who’s like … idk 10 or so? said that i was her camp crush last year… *and this year still#too* (because theres always a slight big deal on who your camp crush/admirerer/person who want to be friends with is - idk it’s a big deal)#and like… that person is never me. 😅 im not usually the one ppl have crushes on (plat or otherwise) or at least i dont see myself that way#so when this kiddo was like *youre a cool counselor* (in diff words) i just 😭 thats so!!! like yes i am#being good at my job and the kids do like me and all the effort has been worth something :)#but i havent really done anything on here to earn this reaction from *anyone* so.. idk… this is sweet#lol i’ll write about you in my journal#XD#but thanks for stopping by :) and i hope you have a lovely day#asks#anon#secret admirer#also - do i know you? or is that a secret as well?
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Fuck the Nice List| Santa!Eddie x Reader
Smutty Part 2 of Hey, Mr. Claus
Cw smut, Eddie is dressed as Santa for your nieces and nephews and you can’t keep your hands to yourself. Minors DNI
The night was wrapping up as you and all your loved ones were gathered around the Christmas tree at your brothers' house. It was the first Christmas you were spending with your new boyfriend, Eddie, and he wanted to make a good impression on your family. So, he volunteered to dress as Santa for the younger ones. He already had experience from his Mall Santa job and thought it would be a way to get into your family's good books.
You heard a rustling of wrapping and tissue paper as the kids were getting squirmy and anxious to see who was coming around the corner.
“HO HO HO! Merry Christmas!” Eddie belted in his lower register voice when he played the character. As he entered the living room, a sack of presents filled with gifts your family had bought prior was slung around his shoulder.
Many high-pitched cheers of joy pierced your ears as the young ones screamed. They all ran up to Santa Eddie, not knowing it was the man they sat beside at dinner. He had put much effort into his appearance to make it more believable.
His hair was tucked away into his hat that had a long white curly wig underneath it. A long, white, silky beard was attached to his face, and some makeup made him look a bit older and rosie.
Eddie sat and listened to each child on what they wanted, and then he gave them a single gift. He was attentive and aware of how important it was to each child. This would live in their memories forever. The “real” Santa was here just for them on Christmas Eve! What else could they want?
The way Eddie was being so good with the kids of your family was making you feel things. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your palms sweaty, and your lower belly area felt much warmer than it should at a family function. You couldn't wait to get your hands on the man you were falling for.
“When’s it my turn, Mr. Claus?” You bat your eyes at your boyfriend once you are alone.
Your siblings went to get their children ready for bed. Everyone was spending the night at your brothers' house so you could spend Christmas Day together as a family.
“Don’t tell me this is what you’re into, Sugar Plum?” He asked as you walk towards him
“So what if it is? You don’t wanna unwrap me like one of your presents?” You tug at his beard to bring his head down lower to kiss. “I think you’re going to like what’s inside,” you whisper seductively.
“You wanna ride on Santa’s sleigh?” Santa Eddie smirked as you ran your hands up his chest to his shoulders.
“More like his North Pole...”
Eddie groans as he lets his head fall back before grabbing your hand and guiding the both of you to your shared bedroom for the evening.
“I can’t believe you’re going to seduce me into fucking you at your family’s house.” He tugged you into the guest room and shut the door quietly, not to alert the others.
“Oh please, seducing you? All I have to do is breathe, and you want to fuck me,” you laugh before Eddie shuts you up with a searing kiss.
“Get undressed,” Eddie demanded before taking off his suit.
“Wait! Keep that on,” you smirk.
“Oh, so we are doing this?” He points between you and himself.
You bite your lip and nod, letting your dress fall.
Eddie’s eyes went wide as he examined your figure. You had on a matching lacy red set. The push-up bra hugged your breasts, and the panties sculpted your ass to look like the perfect little sugar plum.
Eddie backs up and plops on the edge of the bed without breaking his gaze. He was practically drooling at the sight of you.
“Come on, Snow Angel. Come sit on Santa’s lap and tell me what you want for Christmas.” Eddie bites his lip, beckoning you over.
You walk over and straddle Santa Eddie’s lap, draping both legs over his knees, landing your lacy cunt down on his already hardening cock. Eddie grips your ass, and you lean your weight into him.
“I want you to fill me with your cum this Christmas.” You whispered in his ear before nibbling on the lobe.
“Fuuuuuuuck baby you can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not? You asked me what I wanted. I’ve been a good girl this year I promise.” You pout.
“I don’t know about that Sugar Plum? I’ve heard from the elf’s that you’ve been naughty.” Eddie bit at your neck as your hips began to grind down in your boyfriend’s lap. “You you’re going to do everything I say to make sure you really are a good girl.”
“Yes, Santa. I’ll do anything to get on your nice list.” You drop your head to kiss Eddie’s plump lips. Well, you at least tried to because the fake beard got in the way.
“Ok, this has to go,” you laugh as Eddie removes the synthetic beard from his face.
“Oh, thank god,” he mumbles before peppering kisses all over your chest and breasts.
“Fucking perfect,” Eddie mumbles as he presses his face into your cleavage and takes in your sent. You smell of cinnamon, ginger and pine needles.
“Mmmmm baby,” you moan as you grip the back of his head, keeping his face in your chest.
“You wanna lick Santa’s special candy cane?” Eddie smirked.
You slinked down his body, and he unbuttoned his suit jacket. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and you couldn’t help but run your hands up and down his naked torso. Your eyes soaked him in as he undid his pants.
“Mmmm, I bet it’s the sweetest.” You ran your hand up and down the tented fabric of his boxers.
“No more teasing. You wanna get on Santa’s nice list, don’t ya? Open up a nice big present tomorrow morning?” Eddie bites his bottom lip.
“Yes, Santa,” you pull his big cock out and give the tip a lick.
“Good girl, good fuckn’ girl.” Eddie stroked your head as you took him entirely into your mouth.
You take as much of him as you can in your mouth before gagging. The weight of his velvety shaft was so soft on your tongue. You loved giving Eddie head; it made you so wet every time without fail.
“Fuck you’re way too good at this. I’m going to bust already,” he lets out a breathy laugh.
“Mmmmmmm,” you hum at the compliment and continue to bob and suck on his cock.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he pulls your head up so he doesn’t explode right then and there. He pulls you up into a deep, long kiss as he goes to lay back on the bed. You followed his lead and hovered over top of him. You graze your sopping clothed cunt over Eddie’s bare cock as you adjust your weight.
Eddie hissed as he felt the pool of wet heat graze his cock. “You wanna take that ride now, baby?” Eddie moaned.
“Yes,” you sigh, and you feel Eddie’s hand pull your panties to the side.
“You gotta work for it, Sugar Plum; show Santa how good you can be,” he cooed as he curled your clit with a gloved finger.
“Fuck” you sigh, and you grind your hips harder on Eddie's cock.
“What did I say about teasing? You naughty little elf,” Eddie gritted out.
“M’sorry Santa, maybe I wanna be your naughty girl.” You continue to grind your hips back and forth from his base to tip.
“That’s it!” Eddie couldn't take it anymore. He flips the two of you over so you’re flat on your back.
“No more playing around. Santa needs his milk and cookies” Eddie ripped your panties right off, and before you knew what was happening, his muscular tongue was entering your wet hole, and his bright red nose was nudging at your clit.
“Fuck baby,” you whispered, trying not to disturb the rest of the house. He sat up and replaced his tongue with two fingers. You’re not even sure when he removed the white gloves.
“Mmm, best cookie I’ve tasted all year,” he mused, and your pussy clenched.
“Oh, you like it when I compliment your cookie, don’t you?” He massaged his fingers inside you, making your hips jerk up.
“Baby, please,” you begged.
“Naughty girls have to wait, baby; only good girls on the nice list get what they want” His thumb curled your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you.
“Baby fuck, I’m close,” you wined, and Eddie pulled away.
“Oh, she’s learning.”
“Baby I was so close-”
“Naughty girls only get to come when it’s on my cock.” He aligns himself up to your entrance.
“Fuck your so hot.” Eddie leaned down to kiss you. He kissed you hard, and it made your head spin.
Eddie slipped his tongue into your mouth, and at the same time, he slipped in his cock. You never got tired of the way Eddie stretched you out every time. He never failed to make you feel full. He knew how to take over your body. The way he would numb your mind, how he could literally fuck you dumb. You hadn't been together that long with Eddie. Only a month, really, but the way he knows your body, it was like he was made for you.
"Oh, you like that Sugar Plum? Do you like Santa's fat cock splitting you open? I wish you could see it, baby, the way your pussy swallows my cock is perfection." You must have been making noises of pleasure because you were already lost in your own little world of euphoria, and he had just started.
"Answer me, Sugar Plum. Tell me how much you like this cock." his hips slowed down in pace but never stopped. He will wait for your answer.
"I- fuck- I love it-ohhhhhhh," you cried as his head grazed your g spot.
"There's my good girl." Eddie's pace quickened. His hand ran up to massage your breast, still confined by the lacy red bra.
Your pussy clamped down at his words; you loved when he called you his god girl. It never fails to make your body tingle.
As his cock continuously slides against your g spot, your body tenses up at the oncoming orgasm Eddie is about to give you.
"More, please, I'm so close," You beg. You were so close to the euphoria that you would do anything for Eddie now.
"Sucha good girl letting me know. and you know what good girls get?" Eddie continues to thrust into your cunt while reaching down to open your legs up wider for him so that he could rub your clit. The new angle was just what you needed.
You quickly nod to Eddie's question before your body is ripped with a rush of serotonin.
"That's right, baby, they get what they ask for. Come, baby, you're doing so good for me." He talked you through your orgasm.
He followed not too far after you, finishing inside like you had asked. You loved it when Eddie came in you. He'd hug you close as he trusted his hips deep into your body that you felt so connected. Like you were made for one another. It didn't matter if the sex was silly or serious; you knew your souls were meant to be intertwined.
"I didn't know I had that many dirty Christmas analogies in me," Eddie laughed, shucking off the fluffy white and red suit jacket that made him a sweat bucket.
"Any now I have one more in me." you laugh, and Eddie can't help but fall in love with you.
Part 3
tag list: @allthingsjoeq @bettyfrommars @battymunson @onegirlmanytales @slutty-thevampireslayer @leelei1980 @tlclick73 @reidsbtch
#IM SORRY FOR THE CHEESY CHRISTMAS LINES I COULDNT HELP MYSELF#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x afab reader#santa!eddie munson#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson christmas imagine#Eddie Munson#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson concept#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fan fiction
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clarity ✾ c.l
summary – in which Charles and reader can't get along until they do.
a/n – requests are open!
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y/nusername
liked by carlossainz55, yourmomsuser and 289,651 others
y/nusername definitely not what we expected after some issues during practice and qualifying but p2 is a welcome suprise. We'll keep pushing and give our all next week.
tagged: scuderiaferrari
y/nfan32 you killed it today ❤️
scuderiaferrari girl power 🙌
zhou_ey the battle between you and max was the highlight of the race, a well deserved p1 & p2 if you ask me.
charles_leclerc 👏👏
carlando_ boy are you being hold hostage, is she holding a gun against your head? what are you doing here?💀
tifosired Fred doing everything to make them like each other I see 😂
lunaaar he didn't 👏👏 when they 'bumped' into each other in the media pen 😂
daisyyy lmao not y/n her fault he ended in p6, boy is always mad when she finishes higher
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f1.memes
liked by landonorris and 872 others
f1.memes a collection of charles' face whenever someone mentioned y/n in HIS interviews 🤣
view all 154 comments
leclerc_16 lmfao stop this man is too much sometimes
thurthur lando liking this is sending me 😭
dannyric3 the grid knows
thurthur like half the world knows lol
norrisfour y'all think he sends this to charles and y/n 🤡
thurthur oh definitely :')
maxmaxver y/n just suck his dick already, he's done waiting
emmaaaa 😭 😭 y'all too much
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maxmaxver we just know it's what will ease the air between them 👀
charles_leclerc
liked by scuderiaferrari, pierregasly and 892,871 others
charles_leclerc pole and p1 this weekend🏆
car was feeling really great, amazing team effort @/scuderiaferrari ❤️
view all 2.897 comments
marck6 phenomenal race once again!
leclerccharles16 😍😍
scuderiaferrari thats how we do it 👏
damian00 took you long enough to get them a good enough car
tifosi_16 always our p1 🥰
y/nusername 🏆🏆
leklerkc Charles holding a gun against y/n's head right now 😆
y/nfan289 Charles said comment on my post like I was forced to do last week 💀
norlando "Okay at least I got a podium too unlike you last week." – y/n probably after Charles forced her to comment :')
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y/nusername
liked by yourbestfrienduser, charles_leclerc and 301,762 others
y/nusername summer break with the kids 🐶 😺
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y/nfan4 I would in fact die for ruby and milo if I need to
charlie_16 ruby and roscoe playdate when?
hammyton didn't they try that before but ruby is like terrified of roscoe 😭
y/nleclercc yeah they met in Monaco last year and my girl ruby was like 'is that a boy? Disgusting, get me outta here.' 😂
bott_ass imagine being afraid of roscoe :')
Zhouey24 why's milo staring at me like that what does he want..my soul?
y/nusername the more the merrier 😻
landonorris what book are you reading, racing for dummies?
y/nusername bet you laughed real hard at that when you thought of it..
y/nusername I'll give it to you after the break, god knows you need it
landonorris ouch..okay
landoscar 💀 welp if charles and y/n isn't going to happen, let it be these two
ferraricharles Charles what are you doing here? 🤣
chilisainz 👀 👀
Hannahh don't think we don't see you Charles
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landonorris posted on his story
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y/nusername
liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 476,689 others
y/nusername team-building or something..I don't know, something in the contract that we didn't read when signing it..kinda fancy him I guess ❤️
tagged: charles_leclerc
view all 598 comments
grussel63 we've come a long way lads but we've made it, they've finally seen the light. Good job everyone 👏
ricricdaniel took y'all long enough..:))
charles_leclerc ❤️❤️
y/nusername ❤️❤️
scuderiaferrari what a team 👏
sainzjr55 yall better keep an eye on the drivers' rooms 💀
charlesnyn finally 🥰🥰
danielricciardo @/landonorris so when are we going on some team-building trip?
landonorris soon, I'm planning something as we speak
danielricciardo thanks babe
norrylando when I tell you I love the grid, this is what I meant 💀
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles x y/n#charles leclerc fanfic#charles lecrelc#charles leclerc au
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I saw you asked for requests a few days ago. I was wondering if you would consider doing another part of the Kent!reader x Jamie fics.
I was thinking they do end up pregnant and its them telling everyone they’re pregnant . I can see everyone being so excited for them. And then Roy is just freaking out.
Since they’ve already discussed wanting to be together forever and have kids I can also see them deciding to get married before the baby is born in a small ceremony like Beard had.
I have quite a few requests about Jamie x reader having a kid, so if that ain’t your jam, maybe don’t read my next few posts😂 It’s totally my jam tho, maybe bc I’m suffering from baby fever again. thanks for requesting and for your patience!!
let’s fall in love for the night
Jamie’s jiggling his leg up and down so fast that you’re surprised he hasn’t cramped yet.
“Calm down,” you hiss, hand on his knee.
“Can’t,” he whispers back. “Roy’s gonna fucking kill me.”
You have no sympathy for him. “Yeah, and whose fault is that? Yours.”
Jamie shoots you a sideways glance. “Excuse me, this was a team effort.”
“Whatever,” you say. “I still say it’s your fault.”
Molly swoops by to refill your water glasses. “Dinner’s ready in a few minutes. Roy and Phoebe have been working very hard,” she says.
She raises her eyebrows on the word very, and you’re sure that Roy’s patience is being pushed to his limits. He loves cooking and refuses to let anyone help him, but he also loves your niece and can’t deny her anything she wants.
“Better go check on them,” she says, leaving you and Jamie alone again in the backyard.
Jamie resumes the previous conversation and says, “Well, I wasn’t the one wearing that blue thing with the flowers.”
“Well obviously,” you shoot back, “it wouldn’t even fit you.”
Jamie’s stopped jiggling his leg and he places his hand on top of yours. “Oi. Has Roy ever actually killed anyone before, or does he just have serial killer eyebrows?”
You wrinkle your nose and ask, “Why the fuck would I know?”
“You’re his sister,” Jamie replies in Phoebe’s patented duh tone.
“I’m his baby sister,” you say. “I’m even younger than Molly. If he’s killed someone, they’ve both conspired to make sure I’ll never find out. And hey, don’t make fun of the eyebrows. There’s a good chance this baby’s gonna end up with them.”
“Babe you don’t have ‘em,” Jamie points out.
“I wax,” you say smugly. “Oh, Molly texted. Time to go inside.”
Jamie groans but lets you lead him to the table.
—
All told, Phoebe didn’t do half bad.
“Auntie, I did the potatoes all by myself,” she says.
You look to Roy for confirmation. He grunts and gives a tiny nod.
“Great job, Phoebs,” you say.
Molly sets down her fork. “I’ve been thinking of changing my name back to ‘Kent,’” she says.
“Brill,” says Jamie.
“Fucking finally,” Roy says as he hands Phoebe some money. “For future words,” he mouths to her as she counts it before depositing what you’re pretty sure is 20 quid into her pocket.
Molly says, “We’ll all be the Kents again,” and you can feel Jamie go stiff next to you.
“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy asks, and you turn to see Jamie’s gone completely pale.
You pinch his thigh and he jumps. “Nothing,” he says hurriedly. “Well, not nothing. But, I dunno, don’t want to overshadow Molls’s good news, ya know? It ain’t important.”
You pinch him again.
“Ok, it’s actually a little fucking important (sorry Phoebe, take it from Roy). But um, maybe you could help me babe?”
He shoots you a pleading look so you take pity on him. You’ve had more than twenty years dealing with Roy, so you’ll let Jamie slide this once.
“Right, so, we’ve been meaning to tell you- I’m having a baby,” you blurt out.
Roy’s dinner roll gets crushed in his hand as his face goes bright red.
“What,” he growls, and you’re not sure if you’re more terrified by the absence of “fuck”s or the fact that it was a statement, not a question.
“That’s wonderful, love!” Molly says before Roy can say anything else. She’s not looking at him but you can practically feel him take psychic damage from the shut up and be happy you prick, message she’s sure to be telepathically sending him.
“It’s Jamie’s, right?” she continues, taking a bite of salad.
“The fuck kind of question is that?” you ask indignantly. “Who else’s would it be?”
“You don’t have to pay me for that one,” Phoebe pipes up. “I’ll give you a free tab of one hundred words because of the baby. If it’s a girl, you can have fifty more.”
You grin. “Sounds like a plan.”
“You’re probably going to owe her the fifty, Phoebs,” Molly says. She points to Jamie with her fork. “I mean, look at him. He practically screams ‘girl dad.’”
“That’s- fucking- great,” Roy garbles out. “‘Scuse me.”
“We’re having a backyard wedding next Saturday, too,” you call after him. “So we probably won’t all be the Kents again.”
You wince as he slams a door from somewhere in the house.
“He’ll come ‘round,” Molly says consolingly. “Remember how he was with Phoebe? And I was already married!”
You grip Jamie’s hand. “Molls, why can’t he just emote like a regular person? I mean honestly, did our parents fuck him up that bad?”
Molly raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “I don’t know, babe. Think he’s just like us, really, afraid of loving something so he just pushes it all away. And besides, you’re the baby of the family. We’ve always tried to protect you and keep you safe, and sometimes he feels like you’re out of reach.”
You ask, “He told you that?” and Molly just laughs.
“Not in so many words,” she replies. “But you know how he is.”
“He’s an arsehole,” you grumble. “I’m going to go talk to him.
—
Roy is, predictably, in the backyard. Not many places for him to go and think properly.
You find him sitting under the tree.
“Oi,” you say, “budge over.”
He grunts and moves so you’re not quite in the dirt.
“Can you be sitting on the ground?” he asks.
“It’s been like three months,” you reply, “That isn’t long enough for me to get stuck places.”
Roy says, “hmm,” but doesn’t offer up anything else so you just sit in silence next to him, pressing your shoulder to his.
“Why the fuck did it have to be Tartt?” he asks after a beat. “Could’ve been fucking anyone in the fucking world, and you fucking chose him.”
“You like Jamie,” you say in confusion.
“I don’t,” Roy replies, “he’s a prick. And a fucking footballer. Why’d you have to go for a fucking good-for-nothing footballer? He can’t even be around for his family when they go through shit because he’s going to be busy scoring fucking meaningless goals or some shit.”
That stings for a moment, but you take a good look at Roy’s face. It’s stoic, but shit if you can’t read it like a book. Blood is blood, and you’re a Kent just like him.
“This isn’t about him, is it. It’s about you. You think you did a shit job as a brother and an uncle so Jamie’s going to be a shit father.”
“I missed out on a lot,” Roy says hoarsely. “And before you say fucking shit, I’m not fucking crying. So shut the fuck about it.”
You grin and wrap your arms around him. “You’re the best big brother a girl could ask for. Took all my cues from you. And anyway, you’ve been there when it counts. Phoebe fucking adores you, practically attached at the hip you two. And yeah, Molls and I missed you when you were at Sunderland and Chelsea and wherever. But… you came back. We needed you, and you came back. So don’t go projecting your stupid self-image on Jamie, because he’s not like that. And you’re not either, you absolute fucking ape-armed frizzy-haired shit-faced twat.”
Roy huffs out a chuckle. “Ape-arms. Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
“Almost went with ‘camel knees.’ Haven’t used that since I was ten, but I thought it might hit too close to home these days.”
Roy laughs for real this time and tilts his head so it’s resting on yours. “Still fucking weird that my little sister’s having a kid.”
You say, “You’ll get over it. Oh, and don’t wear a goddamn T-shirt on Saturday.”
—
It’s rainy, so the backyard wedding becomes a living room wedding, because who really gives a shit? Richmond have a game tomorrow, but for today they’re in yours and Jamie’s house all dressed up (but still in trainers) laughing and smiling as Dani officiates what you’re sure is your dream wedding.
It’s not the one you and Molly would’ve giggled about as kids when you sneaked from your bed into hers, but everyone you loves is here.
For once, Jamie’s house almost seems too small.
(Dani was the only person you two knew who was ordained or whatever. And hey, could you have picked a happier person for it?)
Molly and Keeley had gone out with you to find a white dress, Sam and Phoebe were the flower-people, and Roy walked you down the stairs to where Jamie was standing with Isaac by his side.
“I’m not fucking crying,” Roy whispers in your ear. “It’s fucking allergies from being in this prick’s house for too long.”
“It’s my house too,” you remind him.
Roy just sniffs, pats your hand where it’s tucked into his arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.
All in all, it was pretty great.
Gifts range from hair products to restaurant gift cards to designer baby clothes, including a tie-dyed onesie from Phoebe.
“I have a matching one at home,” she explains.
But now it’s the evening and everyone is gone except family.
“Can’t believe my baby’s married,” says a beaming Georgie as she ruffles Jamie’s hair from their place on the couch.
“Can’t believe he attained his childhood goal of marrying into the Kent family,” Molly remarks.
Jamie grins smugly. “What can I say, I’m a fucking goal-getter.”
You’re snuggled in Jamie’s arms, dress exchanged for a white sweatshirt and sweatpants set, courtesy of Rebecca.
“I’d’ve had a poster of you on me wall if they made one, babe,” Jamie says. “Better sight than that hairy git.”
Roy just rolls his eyes and says “I’m getting another beer.”
“Can you bring me a piece of cake?” you call after him.
“Me too?” Phoebe asks, looking hopefully at Molly.
Jamie pats your knee. “Don’t think he heard you, love. I’ll get it for ya. You too, Phoebs.” He shoots a wink in her direction, and she giggles.
“Oi, grandad,” Jamie says, walking into the kitchen. “Did you hear your sister?”
Roy turns around from the fridge with a menacing look.
“If she has a single moment of unhappiness, I’m going to fucking kill you,” he growls.
“Jesus, sorry,” Jamie says, hands in the air. “What’s got your knickers all in a twist?”
Fucking Jamie, never able to back down from a good squabble with Roy.
They’re both keeping their voices down because they know if they got caught, no less than three people would be grabbing them by the ear and yelling.
They might know this from personal experience.
Roy says, “She’s my little sister. I’d fucking murder for her, and so would Molly. Always tried to make it easier for her when she missed our parents and shit, but it always fucking got to her anyway. Didn’t help that I fucked off to Sunderland at fucking nine, before she was even fucking born. She’s wanted a family of her own for fucking ages, and if you fuck this up for her they will never. Find. Your body.”
Jamie’s not sure Roy’s ever looked this menacing, which is saying something, because he’s Roy fucking Kent. He always looks menacing.
So he nods and says quietly, “I ain’t gonna fuck it up, Coach. Had a shit dad too. Always wished he were around, except when he was then he’d get all fuckin’ angry and shit. But… still wanted him, y’know? Weird. Anyway, not gonna be like that with her. I want a family too.”
Roy looks straight into his eyes, looking for the barest hint of insincerity. Jamie’s gaze doesn’t waver. He’s not sure of much, but he’s sure of this. He’s sure of you.
Roy says, “Right,” nods once, then claps Jamie on the shoulder right at his phone dings.
Jamie pulls out his phone to a text from you that reads, pls stop fangirling over my brother. baby wants cake and so does ur mum
He smiles and tries to figure out how to balance three plates at once.
#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt fanfiction#jamie tartt imagine#jamie tartt x y/n#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt#ted lasso
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Carry Me Home || S. Aho
Author: Sydney / @sydnikov
Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.6k
Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.
Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one
A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182
*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.
Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.
There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.
Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.
He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?
Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.
As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.
When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?
He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.
Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.
The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.
Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.
Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.
It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.
How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.
And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.
You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.
“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”
The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.
“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.
You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.
“What was that?”
“I can’t—”
“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”
His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.
Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.
Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.
You���re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.
Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.
Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.
It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…
You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.
He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.
Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.
And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.
His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.
In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—
The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.
He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.
Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—
The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.
He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.
He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.
Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.
The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.
Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.
The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.
You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.
“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”
He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”
Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.
Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.
“Take me to bed, please,”
Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.
The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.
“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”
You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”
Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.
The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.
“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”
The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”
Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.
Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”
Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.
“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”
The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.
Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.
With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.
You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—
Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”
The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.
“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.
“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.
A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”
My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.
“Sebastian?”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck me, please,”
And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.
You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.
Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.
You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.
“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.
You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”
“Well when you say it like that—”
You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.
“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”
You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.
“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”
“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.
You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.
His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.
Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.
“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”
“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.
“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”
Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.
Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.
His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.
He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.
Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.
You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.
Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.
Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.
Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.
You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.
He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.
“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.
He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.
Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.
Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.
This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.
Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.
As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.
Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”
His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.
He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.
“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”
“I’m close,”
“I know. Let go for me.”
And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.
Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.
He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.
You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.
It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”
“Mhmm?”
“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.
Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.
His mind, however, is a completely different story.
Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.
No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.
You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.
“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.
Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.
He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.
You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.
Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”
Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.
Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.
He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.
A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))
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#sebastian aho#sebastian aho imagine#sebastian aho fic#sebastian aho imagines#sebastian aho fanfiction#sebastian aho x reader#carolina hurricanes#carolina hurricanes imagine#carolina hurricanes imagines#canes#canes imagine#canes lb#nhl hockey#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl writing#writing#fanfiction#nhl smut#sebastian aho smut#'carry me home'
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miles.g / wiles
.｡.+*☆ headcannons 👾💭
contents: general hcs, mention of his father’s death, i call 42-miles ‘wiles’, me sorta bullying him
a/n: after a lot of procrastination and harassment gentle encouragement from @vhstown i’m finally posting my hcs. :3c (they’ve been sitting here since july)
Despite his tough guy exterior and criminal career, he's actually a massive nerd geek. Like: gundham, comics, posters all over his room.
Until you bring up those interests, he won't mention them. But once you start a conversation about them, he can tell you all the lore front to back or tell you where and when each collectible is from. Just listening to Wiles and nodding along will make his day.
Accepting help from others is not an option. Ever. He's an overly D.I.Y guy since his father's death and it's staying that way.
... unless you're very close to him. Wiles will begrudgingly accept your help and then be adamant on repaying you. No matter how trivial it was, he'll show his gratitude through service.
Wiles has great memory and knows all the lyrics to his favourite songs. Go through his playlist and pick something at random- he'll recite them flawlessly!
A good memory also helps with remembering those flashes of songs playing on your lock screen. Just a split second glance? He's adding it to his playlist, maybe listening to it as he works on his latest gear.
Would be a straight A student if he were there half the time. The only thing keeping his total grades down is attendance, where he’s often absent.
However, if he’s in a group project with you, Wiles will put more effort into it. Getting a ‘C’ or GPA point lower is fine if it means keeping Brooklyn safer. What’s not fine is him being the reason for your lower marks.
Unlike his counterpart from 1610, Wiles’ art is more realistic. He tries to capture the subjects’ essence quickly and minimally, so colours are an afterthought.
Accuracy was his pride in art until it came to you. He’d be so nervous in getting your smile right, scribbling failed attempts over and over again. Wiles even resorted to a pencil sketch.
Following the passing of Jefferson, Wiles has gotten much closer to Rio. That’s a no brainer; he was fourteen— a kid. And Jefferson never got to see his son in that overpriced Visions uniform.
Wiles makes an effort to speak more Spanish. He lets his mamí braid his hair even if it hurts like hell. Those stupid telenovelas aren’t that bad on the second watch.
Once upon a time, Wiles used to be a choir boy (keyword: used). He’d love singing hymns and doing nativities before he could read; all for his mamí and dad to see.
However, the christmas after Jefferson’s passing felt… empty. Wiles quickly lost his passion for choir and now just attends mass with Rio at most.
After years of experience being a choir boy, Wiles has the voice of an angel. Not that you’d know, of course— he intends to take that to the grave. But there’s also a deeper, darker secret… he can’t rap to save his life.
An extremely personal and harrowing Musically comment told him so. Following that attack, twelve year old Wiles abandoned his account with only a black profile picture left behind.
Like any other middle schooler, Wiles had a hype beast phase (he denies it). When Aaron got a Hype shirt for Wiles’ 12th birthday, words couldn’t describe how he almost knocked Aaron down with a hug.
The shirt’s first stain had Wiles distraught and furiously searching ‘remove paint on shirt hacks’ on Youtube. His heart would probably stop if he misplaced a gift from you.
Wiles isn’t the best cook, but he can definitely make himself a good meal. With Rio working night shifts and Uncle Aaron doing… jobs, he has to be self-sufficient.
A secret lil’ side project: he’s trying and failing to replicate Jefferson’s mac ‘n cheese. It wasn’t the best, but it was his. Something’s always off when Wiles makes it and he’s not quite sure what.
Sure, cooking isn’t that hard, but baking is like wizardry to Wiles. AP Chemistry and it’s endless calculations felt way easier than making pan de agua with his mamí.
But, mamí didn’t raise no quitter! On a particularly busy birthday, Wiles pulled together a modest little cake for Rio. She burst into tears seeing the shaky ‘!Feliz Cumple!’ written in too-sweet icing.
Calling Earth-42 a wreck is a massive understatement. Shit’s like Gotham, only very real and very deadly. Just breathing in that damn city air makes Wiles’ skin crawl.
Luckily, he’s got an outlet: boxing. A fun hobby he picked up from Uncle Aaron became his release. Wiles might never be in the ring, but Brooklyn’s more than enough.
a/n #2: what the fuck. this was supposed to be short and silly and fun. exsqueeze me how did this… erm. disjointed mess.
#miles g morales x reader#miles g x reader#prowler miles x reader#42!miles x reader#42!miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#earth 42 miles x you#miles g morales#miles gonzalo morales#miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles headcanons#atsv x reader#atsv headcanons#atsv miles#atsv x you#atsv fanfiction#chewy writes ♪
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No Complaints
Billy Hargove x fem!reader
Request: Can you do Bily Hargrove /innocent reader?
No one, and I mean, no one, would've expected someone like Billy Hargrove to date someone like me.
Like, compared to him, I'm not... very experienced, in relationships and shit, so yeah him being actually interested and also this patient is very unexpected, even for me.
This never stopped him from being all touchy and clingy, he always manages to find an excuse to touch me, not that I'm complaining, he never pressured me into doing it.
That's why I want to give him a little treat. Or at least I'll try to.
Today we study together, he needs to pass English so I offer to help. I just might heva a good incentive in mind.
"Why, tell me, do I have to study this guy writing about this... foursome?" Billy asks me, bored.
We have to study "midsummer's night dream" by Shakespeare.
"Because one, it's not a foursome, two there's so much more to see if you just focus" I gently tell him.
"It's boring"
"It's really not" I tell him with a small laugh.
"It is"
"It's not, c'mon, focus.. for me?" I look at him with doe eyes to trying and convince him.
"You and those eyes of yours don't help me, you know? I can't focus with you beside me" he looks at my lips with a teasing grin.
"Billy" I say rolling my eyes and turning back at the notes in front of me.
"Y/n" he answers mimicking my tone.
I ignore him and start to write something on my notes when his hand moves to my leg.
"Y/n" he says again, using that tone he knows makes me melt.
I feel him moving right next to me, he then moves some of my hair away from my neck to start leaving kisses on my neck.
"Billy..." I warn.
"Yeah?" He not-so-nnocently asks.
"We need... w-we need to... we need to s-study" I stutter.
"How can I study when you stutter so prettily?" He teases.
I decide so suddenly move away, gaining a whine from him..
"How about this? We study, for each correct answer you get to either kiss me wherever you wsnt, or you get a kiss" I suggest.
I feel his face lighten up at the suggestion.
"Fine" he finally says.
We did study, he tried more, thank goodness.
He actually put some effort, which is already enough, if I think about it.
"So... where are my rewards?" He asks after we're done.
"Told you, each correct answer"
"Then ask me" he says.
"No, silly, at the test on Monday." I say, with a small smirk.
"There a test on Monday?" He asks surprised
"Why do you think we've been studying this whole time?" I ask laughing.
"I... you tricked me"
"I helped you study" I correct him.
"You little minx" he says.
"I'm just a good girlfriend who helped her boyfriend study" I shrug.
A week has passed, we had the test and we also got the results.
Billy and I decided to look at his while together at his house.
"So.. you think you did a good job?" I ask him.
"An amazing job" he says proudly.
"Let's see" I say starting to read his test.
"Okay... yeah... oh.."
"Well?" He asks expecting.
"You got 7 correct answer out of 10. Congratulations, baby"
"Ah ah!" He exclaims. "So? My rewards?"
"Well.. you got 7 correct answers so... you get 7 kisses wherever you want or you either kiss me wherever you want" I explain to him again.
He immediately pulls me to him looking downa at me.
"Wherever?" He asks, a teasing grin on his face, but a sweet tone, more to see if I'm actually comfortable with it.
To answer his question I just lead him to his bed.
"Wherever" I assure him.
Without hesitating he kisses me, sweetly but passionately.
"One" he says after pulling away.
He then moves to my neck kissing it hungrily.
"Two"
He then looks at me, one of his hand playing with the buttons of my shirt.
"Can.. I?" He asks.
I nod.
"Really?" He asks, incredulously.
"Yes" I laugh.
He looks at me like a kid allowed to have another slice of cake.
He unbutton my shirt, moving down to immediately kiss my chest, between my breasts.
"Three"
He moves to kiss my right boob.
"Four"
The left boob.
"Five"
He moves lower, but stops, looking at me.
He doesn't want to make me uncomfortable, I know that.
I take his hands and move the to my jeans, silently telling him he can remove them.
He does just that and remove my jeans.
"You're fucking perfect" he says, making me blush like crazy.
He kisses just above my panties.
"Six" he smirks.
"Fuck me" I suddenly say.
He looks at me as if I turned into an elephant.
"What?" He asks.
I take a deep breath grabbing his hand again.
"Fuck me..?" I half question.
"Are you asking me, sweetheart?" He teases climbing back up to face me.
"Mhmm" I nod.
"You sure? We don't have to"
"I want to"
"You really want to?" He asks again.
"Yes, Billy"
"Okay then, get dress" he tells me getting up.
"Uh?" I ask confused sitting up. "I don't understand" I half laugh.
He walks back to me kneeling in front of me.
"I want it to be perfect for you. I don't want it to be a reward for me, so now I'm taking you out on a proper date, a nice dinner wherever you like and then take care of you"
I'm a little surprised by his actions, he always manages to leave me speechless.
"Is that okay?" He asks with slight worried expression.
"Yeah.. yeah! Of course" I reassure him immediately.
I quickly get dress.
He then grabs my hand leading me out, but before getting put of the door he stops to kiss me sweetly.
"And that's seven" he smirks, dragging me out to his car, making me laugh.
My god.. he's gonna be the death of me.
Not that I'm complaining.
#stranger things x y/n#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things imagine#stranger things#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove#billy hargrove fluff
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Thinking about blasphemy and Good Omens right now and I can't help but notice an interesting phenomenon around some discussions I've seen about the Second Coming and Jesus Christ being a character in S3.
Namely, I see much more underlying discomfort around the possibility of the show poking fun at the figure of Jesus Christ than I do with any other prediction discussion or discussion around religion in the show.
On the one hand, I completely understand how poking fun at the Antichrist dogma from Revelations doesn't feel particularly blasphemous, where poking fun at Jesus does. The Antichrist is a stock character of horror at this point. Many more disrespectful teams than Gaiman and Pratchett have played with that story. It's barely even considered poking fun at Christianity to have Adam, the son of Satan, be a good kid in Good Omens. But Jesus is a very important figure to Christians all over the world. There are devout Christians who truly love Jesus and no one wants to be a jerk by just outright disrespecting a figure that is dear to so many.
But on the other hand, expecting Good Omens to not make fun of Jesus is a bit absurd to me. Literally saying, "I don't think the satirical religion show is going to satirize religion because it might upset people." Gaiman hasn't shied away from messing with religion or religious bigots before. He gleefully shrugged off attacks over God being a woman, or Adam and Eve being portrayed by people of color.
The Book of Job is lampooned in Season 2. I know it doesn't feel like it to many people here, but the reinterpretation of the Book of Job in S2 definitely registers as blasphemy on some religious scales. It is satirizing a religious text after all.
Saying that angels and demons fall in love and worse, have that love be portrayed by actors of the same sex could be seen as blasphemy at the very least on the level of saying God is a woman. And by the way, it's not like these religious texts say "God is whatever you want the entity to be" or "God is a woman if that makes you happy". Hell no, the Bible is extremely damn clear on God being male. The official position of the Catholic Church is that God is male. Official Catholic dogma is incredibly anti-female in terms of inherent holiness, women cannot become priests, even nuns are dependent on a priest to deliver the Sacraments, it's a huge deal and they are not planning to change any time soon and it is totally unambiguous.
Making God explicitly female might not seem like a big deal since films like Dogma, another religious satire, did it in the 90s but to True Believes in the official doctrine, that is a form of blasphemy.
Good Omens is by definition a blasphemous work. How offensively blasphemous it is really depends on the devoutness of the viewer. And I find it interesting the extent to which there's something of a knee jerk, "Oh they won't do that!" in terms of further satirizing religion in the show about religious satire. As if Jesus hasn't been satirized in other mainstream movies before like the aforementioned Dogma or Life of Brian.
And here's the thing, my personal opinion is? Blasphemy is good! Blasphemy laws on the books mean it's ok to punish, hurt, or even kill a person for making fun of religion or just doing the religion wrong. Human progress has been frozen in place by blasphemy laws, sciences have progressed when blasphemy laws ease or often while deliberately concealing their efforts from authorities in places where blasphemy laws or laws that were otherwise based on the dominant religion exist.
If anything, I am actually a bit uncomfortable with the idea that Good Omens should hold back on lampooning a figure like Jesus Christ. If devout Christians will make laws that determine what other humans can do with their bodies based on their religion, then their religion should absolutely be open to outright mockery without punishment or ramification to anyone. Of course on an individual level I wouldn't wish to be offensive to someone sincerely religious but at the same time, I am also violently anti-censorship of any kind. And blasphemy and religious mockery are often right at the heart of censorship debates.
The world is a better place when we can openly mock religion.
I'm not going to caveat that as an opinion. Being able to openly and without fear discuss, criticize, and mock religion is an incredibly important part of any free society. The battles over this right have been vicious and bloody and are actively ongoing around the world. Just as an example, anti-blasphemy laws were on the books in Ireland until 2020, there was a huge campaign to have them removed because other countries were pointing to them as an example of why they should keep and exercise such laws.
My point is that I suppose this is something of hyperbole or alarmist or overly strident. I can understand people wanting to be decent about not openly mocking a figure of such importance to so many like Jesus. But quite honestly? I hope Good Omens does whatever it pleases with mocking Jesus. I hope they don't hold back. I hope people remember that being able to mock religion is really important, especially when representatives of that religion are actively trying to clamp down on the rights of others.
And honestly, if religious people are offended they should just not watch or they should develop a thicker skin if they expose themselves to such discourse. Religion and Christianity in particular is an active part of the public sphere. It is worthy of discussion. Public discourse often includes mockery, especially of the powerful and of powerful forces that steer the course of nations, like Christianity.
And I think it's important for Good Omens fans, who are a very progressive group, not to cherry pick and moralize over what satire or blasphemy is permitted. All satire should be permitted. All blasphemy should be permitted. The religious bigots don't care if you think God being a woman is ok but making fun of Jesus isn't. It's all the same, anything but glowing praise is criticism to some of these forces. Open discussion is far more important and yes, that includes mockery, and silly discussions in a silly show about an angel and a demon who avert the Apocalypse and fall in love.
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How date-able are twst boys? ♡
inspired by @sunsguilt
Features all chars, and gets pretty suggestive btw. Otherwise mostly crack +fluff
a/n: my first writing! I hope u enjoy :) if not then go die i guess
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋ ♡Heartslabyul ♡
Riddle Rosehearts - I don't ljke him. If we're talking pre-overblot he'd banish you to that headlock thing with his unique magic if you ever tried to ask him out or flirt with him. Post-overblot hed be really shy in getting into a relationship but wants to be cared for and protected. But he's not standing up for u in front of his mom tho you'll have to deal with her urself
6/10 he’s a sweet boy, just too bossy and not assertive enough to his mom. Divorceablity is quite high with this one.
Cater Diamonds - low-key relatable to me. BUT. His slang gets annoying after a while. His constant posting without peoples permission is weird too. Picture this. He's meeting your family for the first time, and you sit to have dinner. Cater takes a pic of you guys and posts it with the caption "With bae their fam, I'm a bit nervous guys wish me luck!🥺"#girldad #boymom #saveme Your family assumed it's his humor. WRONG. It's his way of coping with his uncomfortability. When it's silent during dinner he says" OH EM GEE GIRLYPOPS!!!, this food is so SLAY💅!! Tysm bestiessss" Your family gives him the nastiest side eye. He never speaks again.
7/10 he seems to be a pretty sweet and understanding person, just needs better ways to express himself . Also he calls your mother queenie.
Trey Clover - he’s an interesting guy. You'll typically see him as an npc, but he's much more than that. Have you seen his *tips fedora * "m'lady" stare?? Yeah there's definitely something strange going on there. He's a pretty family oriented guy tho, and he loves to bake for his s/o and to provide comfort and care.
8/10 he's probably one of the more normal ones that I would actually date. Or be friends with. Just keep one eye open when your sleeping with ur with him tho
Ace Trappola- I don't understand how someone could even like him. He's the kinda kid to push you off the swing during recess and when you tell the teacher he'll go like "NUH UH!! THEY HIT ME FIRST!!" . Plus he's canonically not a good partner lmaoooo
3/10 he’s not even a middle schooler. Too pebble brained. Don't date a gremlin like him. maybe if he finds someone like him he might maintain a steady relationship.
Deuce Spades- no thoughts head empty. He needs a little direction in life but he's got a goal in mind. He's a lil stupid but he's getting there. He's such so sweet and silly you have to love him. But he needs to mature a bit before entering a long term relationship
6/10 not my type, I would go for his mom instead. Plus his dad is literally dr.eggman, that explains everything. but yeah he's got what It takes, be kind to him. He's fragile. Like an egg.
ᓚᘏᗢ Savannaclaw ᓚᘏᗢ
Leona Kingscholar - girl he is 21 years old he should be in the CLUB!!!!! But no. He's sitting alone eating Kentucky fried chicken alone on a Friday night. If he really wanted someone, he could go for it, but he seriously can't be bothered. If you do manage to get him attached to you it'll take him a while to fully love you as much as you love him, as well as put in the same amount of effort .
7/10- I don't think he genuinely needs a partner. He's got his own issues to sort out. But when he falls, he falls hard. I wonder how hard his abs are.
Ruggie Bucchi - Rugbartholomew !!!! The scrunkly. The scrimp. It'll be so fun horsing around with this guy. Being his s/o is like being his partner in crime. It'll be fun, and you guys support each other . He really cares abt his loved ones and always tries to bring something to the table for them, literally and metaphorically. Midnight runs to seven eleven. He's working 10 jobs at a time. He's EMPLOYED. He's a boyemployee. He just needs his girlboss to complete him.
5/10 he's a bit scummy tbh. It'll take him a while to fully trust someone. He’d do some sleazy things for money. It also gives you the ick when he smells donuts and starts floating towards them.
Jack Howl- he's surprisingly normal. He's got a set sleep schedule , he's healthy, he has set routines, and healthy coping mechanisms. But that's the thing. as much as he is such a caring and gentle lover, these routines take up most of his life and time. He would be waking you up at ungodly hours for a morning jog only for you to pass out midway to Mount Kilimanjaro. .
7/10 -he dates for marriage, and he’s really serious about his future and starting a family. So he’s such a loyal and protective guy. He's just too much of a gym bro. He prefers pre-workout over partners. Also he unironically likes alpha/werewolf quotes.
𓆝𓆟𓆜 Octivinelle 𓆝𓆟𓆜
Azul Ashengrotto- I love him so much. He's so me guys you don't get it (capitalism) but that aside, HES SO DAMN WEIRD LMAOOOOOO like he thinks he has rizz but he just looks like a Reddit 'nice guy'. Legitimately says m'lady. He gives off the fake dating trope to me. He'd date you to get something out of you but then actually fall hard bc he's touch starved and longs to feel emotionally vulnerable but is afraid of it. So he's an absolute mess in a relationship and needs a lot of reassurance. But yeah he's pretty bitchless
7/10 he's gorgeous, but he sounds like that one pufferfish singing thing. I relate to him a lot so he gets points. Also since his parents are divorced he definitely has a high divorceability. I have a theory in the works that since we don't know who his biological father is, it might just be Mr. Krabbs. Like it's never said he's a full octopus (to my knowledge). SpongeBob and squidward are Floyd and Jade respectively. SpongeBob X twisted wonderland when?
Floyd Leech- he drank battery acid as a baby. Like dude you're in love with a nuclear fission bomb. If you like Floyd, you're just as fucked up as he is. It's okay tho, he's a very physically affectionate guy and may be overly possessive and obsessive but that's just his charm dw abt it. He also does thing like "if you hug me, expect a little nibbling on your earlobe 😝" and he bites off your entire ear.
2/10 his kisses taste like fish and sheet metal, and he licks short peoples heads when no one's looking.
Jade Leech- if you saw him eat mushrooms well no you didn't because if he eated mushrooms then he would have not eating mushroom bc no . His version of love is psychological warfare . He’s a mysterious guy. Let's set a scenario for him. You're sitting in the monstro lounge. You see a tall, dark and handsome man across the bar with a mysterious aura. You catch his gaze and quickly dart your eyes away. But his never stop staring at you. He comes up to you and you guys chat naturally . He buys you a drink, your favorite actually. He knows all the ways to make you swoon. He’s so dreamy. Then he says that he put cyanide in your drink as joke. Then he lets it slip he's been stalking you for days. You find out his a wanted criminal. And end scene. Yeah that's romance with him.
4/10 he's an attentive and observant guy, but sadly that's way before you guys are dating and he's a psych ward escapee.
𓄼𖣠 Scarabia 𖣠𓄹
Kalim Al-Asim - OTTERRRR!!! I love otters. He’s like deuce. But rich. And more innocent(ignorant). He’s so head over heels for his s/o bro. He’d shower them with his love and gifts. He still has a lot to learn in life, but he's willing to give it all to you. You should be honored.
6/10 he's my son. Treat him well. I can’t forgive him for what he did to Jamil tho.
Jamil Viper- AWWHH YEAH BABY!!! He’s so Fine oml. But personal bias aside, he's very much insane. He’s just a closeted insane.pre-overblot he wouldn't even date u bro he would pretend u don't exist but then hate u being around Kalim. Post-overblot he accidentally avoids you because he has no idea how to express or hide his feelings for you. Okay but definitely has w rizz. Azul seethes at the sight him. Like chewing up his fedora and spitting it out type shit. Men wish they were Jamil.
8/10 he's so wifey, he can cook he can clean I will give him a ring if u don't. Minus points for the attempted murder, but still he's pwetty so I forgive him (*^ω^*) . He probably once got hit in the head with a basketball with you looking.
⊹𖥔˖࣪ Pomefiore⊹𖥔˖࣪
Vil Schoenheit - okay this one's hard cus he's literally just my mother. But more fierce diva cunty. I've been sleeping on his character ngl, but now that I think about it he's pretty relatable. Like everyone wishes to be beautiful, in some sort of way. I think in a relationship he'll need some reassurance about his looks, but also about it his partner only wants him for his looks. I don't think he actually has high standards, he would probably want someone pretty normal, but also takes good care of themselves, not just appearance-wise.
8/10 he's pretty good as an s/o, but the fame aspect will make things very difficult. Also expect him to be brutally honest with you or pick apart your appearance. He's just trying make sure u look ur best bro he's caring like that. Would make an excellent rupauls drag race judge.
Rook Hunt - I have sent a nuke to your exact coordinates. Why would u want him bro he’s Fr*nch AND a felon. There's no good aspects of this relationship he has negative rizz and his fucking bob makes him look like SpongeBob took the gay potion from the dark web at 3 am. also, he's already mentally married you and has your wedding dress prepared as well as a loan taken out for your new family home before you even know his name.
0/10 Mr Electric KILL HIM!!! Probably the kinda guy to post a selfie captioned "who want me" and then before epel can reply "the mental hospital " his post gets taken down due to mass reporting and his account gets suspended and he's put on an fbi watchlist.
Epel Felmier- ngl mood bro. It's so annoying being seen as fragile and weak simply for your inherent femininity.I believe in a relationship he'd want someone that tells him what he wants to hear. He'll have some trouble accepting some facts, especially with his anger issues, but he'll learn to sort that out. He's a sweet boy at heart. He just feels he needs to overcompensate due to his appearance.
6/10 I'm not an anger issues kinda guy. It takes resilience to deal with, something i don't have for that. He probs listens to red pill podcasts while on a tractor. He's a 14 year old boy who just discovered Andrew Tate (he's deathly afraid of women)
꒷꒦꒷Ignihyde꒷꒦꒷
Idia Shroud- no. I have no idea how you could have feelings for him if you've never seen him. And definitely not online bc 1. He would never engage in that 2. Theres nothing romantic about the call of duty lobby. Also another guy with negative rizz. But not like in the creepy way like rook but in a loser way. He genuinely believes he is unfit for a relationship and that he is undeserving of love. If somehow he finds someone like that he'd be attached to them until the day he dies.
8/10 I love me a loser boy. He def has trust issues and paranoia but who doesn't in this game. He's rich so he could spoil u with the battle pass for literally any game. Plus ortho ends up becoming your little brother too. It's a win-win. Also don't ask him if the carpet matches the drapes.
Ortho Shroud- would probs hire u to date his brother out of genuine fear the dude would be alone for the rest of his life.
𓆩 ♡ 𓆪Diasomnia𓆩 ♡ 𓆪
Malleus Draconia - his prehistoric charm and awkward demeanor had captivated you, it seems. But yeah he's the kinda guy to say lines like "For the world could be dying and I would have never noticed it because I would have been not paying attention to the world itself, but would be gazing into your eyes watching them shine like the stars". He's soooo down bad. he's so happy to finally have someone to love him. Very very very loyal. But sometimes toes the line of yandere.
9/10 he's so wonderful. All he wants is to love and be loved. But he still thinks of romance in this Victorian ages and gets hard when he sees your ankles or sumn.
Lilia Vanrouge- this Gent a wee bit peculiar innit? He has connections within the furry community that could destroy your life in seconds. He's everything. He’s everywhere. All at once. He genuinely has dabbled in many different things over the years , so he'll never run out of stories to tell. Many 3 am Minecraft dates. Those upside down Spider-Man kisses. He’s more than ready to settle down with someone have kids of his own. Maybe have a girl. Name her draculaura, you know the rest. He probably went to monster high ngl. But he's a much more mature kinda guy. Definitely knows what he wants in a relationship. He's reasonable too. But you guys don't sleep in the same bed he hangs from the ceiling in a sleeping bag.
9/10 he's a bit vertically challenged and sometimes summons ancient demons by accident. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear in forgotten languages.
Silver - he's the female gaze bro. He's gorgeous . He’s legitimately a normal dude. But I don't think he's even been near a woman before. No rizz. Just soldier and eepy. But he definitely wants an s/o who can care for him a lot considering his narcolepsy. It's something that worries him a lot, and needs a person who's full of love to give, not only to him but to his family. But you're always welcome to nap with him underneath a tree in the warm sun.
7/10 he's a bit narrow-minded, only having a few goals set in mind and a strict regimen as a soldier. You have to work around that and his disorder in order to be his s/o. It's a lot dude. Especially when he leans in for a kiss but falls asleep inside and hits his head on the way down and gets brain damage.
Sebek Zigvolt- this gator wouldn't last a day in the Everglades bruh ‼️��I actually despise him. I have a picture of him in my room that I chew on when I get angry. Why is he always yelling. Why is he so obsessed with malleus even outside of his job. Actually, he probably leaves you for malleus. no chance with him bruh. But seriously you need to be super determined to get with him if you manage go past his alarm clock-like exterior. he's lonely.
3/10 I would turn him into a purse.his version of dirty talk is going "do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior wakasama-" and then you make him put his clothes back on and leave.
﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋
Thank you for reading! ₍˄·͈༝·͈˄₎◞ ̑̑
#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle x reader#cater diamond x reader#cater x reader#trey clover x reader#trey x reader#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#leona x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#ruggie x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#floyd leech x reader#jade leech x reader#kalim al asim x reader#kalim x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#vil x reader#rook hunt x reader#rook x reader#epel felmier x reader#epel x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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A Broken Sort of Normal Part 2
WC: 757
CW: Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Doubt, Jack and Maddie Fenton's A+ Parenting
Masterpost
Worse than— no, not worse than. Nothing was worse than being constantly forgotten by everyone he cared about. Nothing was worse than knowing he was only worth knowing when he’d died. An issue was that Danny still had the same need to protect people even without the ghosts attacks. Day in and day out Danny felt an aching hurt in his chest at not doing anything to help. Working as a receptionist at a slightly rundown construction firm wasn’t the worst job, but it felt like it was slowly killing him. It felt like his core was shriveling up.
Danny knew he needed to make a change. At a loss of what to do and short on options, Danny had enrolled in the paramedic course at the local community college. He excelled at it.
It turned out all those years of patching up his own wounds gave him a pretty good head start on his classmate. So good, in fact, that his instructor recommended him for a job in Central City when he graduated with honors. It was bittersweet to know that when he wasn’t constantly harnessed by ghosts, he could actually do really well at school.
His parents missed his graduation.
His move to the city was done alone (his rented u-haul filled with what he could cram into it) and with a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel. It felt like a second death leaving the only home he had ever known behind.
It felt like relief.
(He didn’t know which was worse.)
Central City was better and worse than he expected. The constant noise rattled him until he got used to ways to combat it: earphones, white noise machines, a cheesy little indoor fountain. The anonymity soothed him— no one paid attention to him in the city. Slowly he carved out his place.
He was part of the city’s emergency response team. Their primary job was working to secure the city and her people during villain attacks. Secondary to that they did follow up with victims, held community events to spread awareness about everything from emergency prep to smoke detectors, and helped with rebuilding efforts.
It was rewarding work and Danny’s core sang for it.
It was a little exhausting to have to run right into a villain attack on his day off though. Good thing he always kept a mini kit in his bag. What sort of emergency response team member would he be if he didn’t listen to their own advice? It was a really nice little kit too— ultra compact but it contained gloves, pipettes of water, disinfectant, a range bandages, a suture kit, a snap light, and even a shock blanket. Danny added a few extra gloves to it too.
As he ran towards the sounds of disaster, Danny felt a brisk wind breeze past him— and then blow back again— as the Flash (one of them, Danny hadn’t been around long enough to tell them apart) backtracked.
“Kid—” Oh, it was the older one then. “—you should be heading the other way. Lummox is up ahead—”
“I know,” Danny snapped, not stopping moving. “I’m a field medic. I’m on my way to help, and you’re not going to stop me.”
The Flash seemed at a loss for what to say for half a beat. “Okay. Sure. Want a lift?”
“What?”
“I can get you in a second— literally— but I’m leaving you on the edge of it all.”
It would be convenient. And it’s not like he couldn’t trust Flash. Danny slowed to a stop and shrugged. “Sure, onward, Seabiscuit.”
“Who?”
“Famous race horse? Cause you’re going to carry me? Never mind. Just pick me up, dude.”
Danny ignored the look he got from the Flash and clung on for dear half-life. Fuck the Speed Force felt weird. He was pretty sure it was less than a second to get there, and Danny didn’t quite stick the landing, but he got his feet under him fast enough to rush in to help.
Eventually Danny required an extra vest from the team that came in and just blended into the background of other medics. It wasn’t a bad day— no lives lost and all the injuries were relatively minor. (He even got some overtime payment, which he wasn’t going to sneeze at). Danny figured it was just part of being in the city, occasionally running into villains and heroes even off the clock.
He didn’t expect it to really happen again.
(He should have known to never have expectations.)
-----
AN: Still moving along with this odd little thing! It's been fun to write a Danny in a very different place than my other fics- mentally and physically! Just to be clear btw- Danny is in a bad place at the start of this fic which is putting a negative light on how he's seeing things. Sam and Tucker just... moved on with their lives. Those sort of high school friends you liked a lot but drift away from. Without the history of ghost stuff to bind them, it was just part of life to them. Danny just has a different memory history so it hits harder for him/feels harsher.
Stay delightful, darlings!
Due to the new post editor and shadow banning, I'm no longer tagging people! To be notified, subscribe to this post:
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Good Boy/Girl
Characters: Dan Heng, Stelle
There's just something about being able to call someone a "Good Boy" or "Good Girl" that makes me so happy. And then for that to mean something to them? Even better.
Like, I don't mean the words in a patronizing way it's just a little symbol of approval like how you'd give a kid a sticker with the words 'Good job!'
Dan Heng
Imagine you're waiting for Dan Heng to come back from one of the trailblazing missions; more recently, the one on the Xianzhou Luofu. You're trying to escape Himeko's coffee, and relaxing with Pom Pom to cure your boredom. Then they return, tired beyond belief from their fight against an emanator, and from all of the emotional damage because there was a lot in that quest.
Dan Heng is trying to calm down from the whole ordeal, he just faced the person that haunts his nightmares, and what better way is there to calm down then spending time with his significant other? You're proud of him. For both facing his fears and doing a good job, so what better way to express that then a sweet
"Good Boy."
Dan Heng would melt into your body, allow himself to finally relax. He's safe here. And he can't help but smile, all of his efforts hadn't gone to waste in the end, everything turned out fine. It was all fine now, and the two of you can rest.
He'd take a moment after leaning against your chest and into your lap to realize what you said. And when he does realize it his eyes will widen a bit and he won't be able to hold back the slight blush. Those words mean so much coming from you.
Likewise, imagine doing so with Stelle after that same quest.
Stelle
Stelle feels betrayed by Dan Heng, blind sighted from his past (we saw how Trailblazer distanced themself from Dan Heng after the reveal and didn't speak to them as much). She feels discouraged, Dan Heng was one of the first people she met. But she doesn't know who to go to for comfort, so she ends up back in your arms.
You run your hands through her soft hair, combing out all the tangles with your fingers. She leans into you, practically sitting in your lap, closing her eyes, and trying to relax. But it's hard. She trusted Dan Heng, and even if it's not his fault, she feels betrayed for not knowing such a large part of his life.
Her shoulders would quiver every once in a while and every time she showed unease, you'd lean a bit closer and whisper.
"Good Girl."
You'd tell her how good she did, how strong she was for taking on an emanator, how she persevered despite everything. She'd cry, turn around, and hold you close. The rest of the night would probably repeat this way, until the two of you fall asleep side by side.
You wake up a bit of a mess, you didn't change into your pajamas or do anything to get ready for bed. But there Stelle is, a small smile on her face and a gift in her hands-- wait, isn't that trash? Why is it golden???
You love your girlfriend anyway, despite her unusual habits.
I don't know maybe I just feel this way. Like it's a way to show someone you appreciate them, love them, think they did great. Or maybe I am just a very big simp.
Like I would die to make you smile, but I'd still want you to cry at my death.
Y'know what I mean?
#hsr#hsr x reader#dan heng x reader#stelle x reader#dan heng#stelle#reader insert#comfort#i am a simp
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lo mejor (i)
pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader (can be read as reader being latine)
summary: nueva york had no shortage of places that sold empanadas. unfortunately, that didn’t equate to all of them being good.
but he continued to find himself going to your restaurant, a few of the other spider-people less than convinced that it's just for your food.
a/n: as a latina who also eats empanadas to cure their hanger, i just needed to get this off my chest. will be a multi-part fic!
3k wc. no warnings for this chapter, other than a litany of english + spanish curses
masterlist | one | two
–
“I’m in hiding. He’s angry at me…again…”
As much as the kid was growing on Jess, she sent an unimpressed look at the flickering hologram. “In other news, water is wet.”
“But seriously, how can he expect me to write a report only 5 minutes after I finish a mission? He’s worse than my AP Lit teacher, and Ms. O’Connor was—”
“Gwen, I’m gonna stop you right there. Because we’ve been through this before. You know how to fix this.”
Though her face was covered by her mask, the widening of her goggles before her shoulders sagged in defeat showed Jess that Gwen knew exactly what to do.
“But can’t you come with me? What if I mess up the order?”
“Are you kidding me right now? Didn’t you want me to ‘chill with the hovering’?”
Gwen sighed, already starting to swing her way through Nueva York to get to her destination. “I know, I know, I’ll go. Do you want anything?”
“No need, it sounds like you might have to buy the whole store to be in his good graces again. Good luck.”
Her mentor logged off before hearing her star pupil groan in frustration—what was supposed to be an effortless day was quickly becoming a pain in her ass.
Like countless times before, Gwen quickly changed into her set of ‘futuristic’ civilian clothes to blend in with the rest of the long line at the tiny, but packed, restaurant. If it weren’t for the enticing smell of freshly baked dough, Gwen wondered if this would all be worth it. She’d have to cancel the jam session with Hobie if this plan didn’t work, lest she face the wrath of the villain of the week, Miguel O’Hara.
But when she finally saw a familiar smile and a warm pair of eyes greeting her behind the counter, she realized that Jess was right—she knew how to fix this.
Or rather, you did.
“Mi gringa favorita! It’s been a while. How many empanadas does el jefe need?”
–
Miguel was having a bad day.
It started with the usual suspect: Peter B., un pendejo who believed that Miguel and Jess actually wanted to hear about his daughter’s bowel movements.
Not to mention the impromptu comedy club Miguel had to break down so everyone could get back to doing the jobs they forgot they signed up for. (Nothing was more irritating than being surrounded by unfunny people who genuinely thought their endless quips and corny jokes landed. Every. Single. Time.)
Then for the umpteenth time, he had to tell Gwen to turn in her reports on time. Yet that was nothing compared to her latest efforts in convincing Miguel to let Miles visit HQ and gently explain (gently because, “He doesn’t know any better!”) that he’s the biggest threat to the multi-verse. These poor attempts, unsurprisingly, fell flat. O’Hara warned Jess that the girl would be a liability, and each day he grew closer to sending the kid back to Earth-65 if she decided to pull any tricks.
But the worst part of this dreadful day was when a nervous, slightly cowering Chef Spidey told his boss there were no more empanadas.
“What?” Miguel’s brows furrowed in confusion, indifferent to the uncomfortable silence that enveloped the cafeteria at the sound of his incredulity. “What do you mean, there’s no more empanadas? Who ate the last one?”
“He promised me not to tell you!”
And with that, Miguel stalked to his office where he was currently sulking in, seriously considering changing Peter B.’s portal watch to a day pass as punishment for apparently eating over a half dozen empanadas.
Just as he was about to give Lyla the command, his associate in the heart sunglasses suddenly appeared. “Gwen Stacy will be here in a minute, might want to start lowering your platform.”
“Maldita sea, didn’t I tell you to not let anyone in?” He pinched the bridge of his nose—he’d much prefer for his ears to be rattled with Peter B.‘s ramblings and even Ben Reilly’s moping over Gwen’s incessant whining about how crappy the current Spider Society establishment was. (She was spending way too much time with Hobie.)
“Hey pal, that’s not a nice word, and she comes bearing gifts that you’ll like.”
“Oh really?” he remarked dryly, arms crossed as he began his descent. “She finished the ten detailed reports she owes me?”
Yet Miguel caught the heavenly smell of beef empanadas before seeing Gwen’s sheepish face. And did he also catch a whiff of chorizo and cheese?
“Hi, Miguel. Heard you haven’t had lunch yet, sooooo…” Shaking off her nerves and avoiding that terrifying gaze, she held out the two large boxes as her apology. “And I’ll submit those reports by tonight, I promise.”
An eyebrow raised, he webbed the boxes toward himself and held them even more tightly when he saw where they came from.
His eyes glossed over the mascot of Mama’s Empanadas, a smiling and waving empanada that almost seemed to assure him that his hanger would quickly be cured. But it was the words hurriedly scribbled at the bottom that displaced the rage he’s felt all day with a weird pang in his chest:
“Buen provecho, Jefe :)”
Miguel quickly turned away, hoping he seemed more composed than he actually felt. As the floor to his office slowly began to ascend, he said, “I’ll give you one more day to finish those reports. But don’t think it’s because this bribe worked.”
“Of course.” Gwen hoped the amusement wasn’t clear in her voice, smirking at the shoulders of the tall man lose their tension as he began eating the ‘bribe’. Would Hobie even believe her if she told him what just happened?
“Thanks, Miguel. See you tomorrow!”
He didn’t even register her last words, eyes closed as he savored the explosive taste of smoked chorizo and finally allowed fond memories to flood his brain.
—
Nueva York had no shortage of places that sold empanadas. Unfortunately, that didn’t equate to all of them being good.
It’s not that he didn’t know how to make them–he’s sure that he could follow his abuela’s recipes that his ma once gave him–but he just didn’t have time. After all, nothing was more convenient than cashing in the perks of the suit to cut a long line and grab free food. But once Lyla finished the goober she was working on (“It’s not a goober, Miguel, it’s a gizmo!”), he’d have even less time to do anything other than jump into different dimensions, some of which would certainly not sell empanadas.
This explained why after changing into sweats following a grueling shift, he found himself staring across the busy street at Mama’s Empanadas, the hunger in his growling stomach overwhelming. The small restaurant was engulfed by flashing neon lights and signs boasting the quality of their food in both Spanish and English. The place was always swarming with people whenever he swung by, but as closing time approached only a few stragglers remained.
And so did you.
Miguel hoped that you were the owner of the shop rather than an overworked employee, considering that he couldn’t remember the last time someone else took your position behind the counter. But even from this distance, he could see your cheery smile while you welcomed new patrons and the regulars, almost as if you were genuinely happy to be serving them on a late Friday night.
With all the running around he’s been doing lately, he couldn’t even remember the last time taking on the Spider-Man mantle gave him the same joy he spotted on your face miles away.
O’Hara felt his phone vibrate as he saw the latest message from Lyla illuminating his screen.
“Got some news to share! Might want to deliver the bad stuff in person though.”
“Que chingada,” Miguel cursed, rubbing tired eyes as he contemplated whether to reply. How could the news get even worse after Earth-1610 lost Peter Parker, their only Spider-Man?
Raising his head, he watched you approach the storefront to activate the electrified gates that would close the shop.
And for reasons his brain would never be able to explain, he felt himself panic, almost as if his body jolted awake as he deftly weaved through honking cars and found himself in front of you, the only barrier being a pesky glass door that would take a millisecond for him to break.
Yet he was surprised to see you hold your ground, and even more shocked to see you flash him an annoyed look he’s never seen you give to any other customer. Shoulders tense, he was ready for you to begin berating him for being a nuisance and to leave the fuck off the premises.
“Eres un idiota? ¡Casi te atropellan!”
Miguel blinked, not sure he heard you correctly. Sure, calling him an idiot is warranted, but he was not almost run over by those cars. Even if he did get hit–which, again, he wouldn’t–then the car would be hurt, not him.
Instead of explaining himself without implicating his alter persona, or at the very least say something remotely coherent in English or Spanish, Miguel found himself even more gobsmacked when you opened the door and ushered him inside, frantically asking him questions in a random jumble of Spanglish as you tried inspecting a man seemingly twice your size for any injuries.
“¿No hablas español? Should I call 911, mierda, is this guy catatonic? Should I have moved him? Are you hurt?”
Feeling your hands shake his shoulders finally snapped him out of whatever funk he was in, confusion washing over him as he tried to piece together what just happened in the past minute. Heeding your obvious concern, he sighed and did his best to ignore the absolutely embarrassing predicament he put himself in.
“Estoy bien,” he assured you, his relief matching yours as you let go and immediately exhaled. “I really am fine, I just wanted to try the empanadas before closing.”
There was that exasperation again, your deadly expression sufficient in asking him ‘Are you serious?’ that your high-pitched words of “En serio?” were quite unnecessary, in his opinion.
“Was running across a congested street not serious enough?”
You scoffed before glaring at him for a few more seconds, though he could see the uncertain shift in your eyes. “This isn’t some twisted joke to rob me, right? Last thing I need is having Spider-Man beating you up and breaking my new glass counter.”
Miguel couldn’t hide the wry twist of his lips, fully aware that he could be thrown out at any minute but still curious to hear your opinion. “Not a Spider-Man fan?”
“As long as he doesn’t destroy my property, I wouldn’t even mind defending the dude on J. Jonah Jameson’s stupid podcast.“ You shrugged casually, already beginning to make your way behind the counter after deeming Miguel to be harmless, despite looking like he could crush you with his pinky.
He didn’t know how to respond, still perplexed about why you hadn't kicked him out yet.
He soon brushed those thoughts to the side when his mouth watered upon seeing you point at the remaining golden-brown pastries. “Well, these will be on the house, since you almost died in front of my restaurant. We only have 3 chicken left, 2 guava and cheese, and 1 chorizo with potato.”
Miguel felt his phone vibrate again–no doubt it was Lyla.
And for the first time in a long time, he turned off his phone, not even bothering to view the message as he chose to look at you instead.
“I’ll take them all.”
–
When you first decided to take over your family’s restaurant, your tía taught you how to handle rude customers while also giving you advice on how to treat the nice ones so they always returned.
However, there was nothing in her playbook on how to treat the weird customers.
And Miguel O’Hara was the weirdest by far.
You took a light sip of your café con leche as you stole a glance at him starting his second empanada, the sight of such a quiet, large man sitting in a tiny seat and restraining his urge to inhale the food in one go quite comical. Much like how he ate the first one, he attempted to seem unaffected by the taste of the meaty filling.
But after doing this for so many years, no one could ever hide their reaction from you. Especially the pure happiness one got from eating a toasty, savory empanada.
And seeing the dark red-brown eyes of the intimidating man briefly widening and softening in amazement only made you want to find more ways to recapture that fleeting moment. To lengthen it and bask in its warmth, even if that meant countless hours of mincing, seasoning, kneading, and baking.
“¿Entonces? The only thing you’ve said these past five minutes is your name. ¿Que dice el juez?” you teased, leaning back and smugly folding your arms as you already knew what his verdict would be.
It was a choice you instantly regretted, almost falling out of your chair as he stopped looking at his half-finished empanada and focused all of his attention on you, a gaze so intense you briefly pondered if you left the oven on with the sudden swell of heat suffocating you.
He pursed his lips and rolled those impossibly broad shoulders, yet another action that made the room feel uncomfortably stuffy for no good reason. “It’s one of the best empanadas I’ve ever had in my life.”
Now it was your turn to be surprised, expecting to hear a ‘good’ or maybe even a ‘great’, but not the highest of praises.
A pregnant pause ensued before a hearty laugh escaped you.
It was impossible to suspend your disbelief–all of this coming from one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen enter this shop? Only when pigs fly, or as your abuela preferred to say, “Solo cuando los cerdos vuelan.”
“¡Mentiroso! Lo dices como si fuera la última Coca-Cola en el desierto.”
He had to know that his half-glare really was just him smoldering. There was no way this man was oblivious to the effects of that gaze.
“I don’t think I’m a liar or particularly funny. Though I actually would appreciate a Coca, si la tienes.”
You desperately hoped that your immediate sigh sounded one stemming from annoyance rather than relief–having an excuse to get up and look for a can of soda rather than the brooding dude a mere foot away from you was the only way you’d stay sane through this strange night.
“I do appreciate the kind words,” you said after recollecting your composure, the cool air blasting from the fridge reminding you to retain at least some semblance of professionalism, “but these aren’t even the freshest batch. No way they’re the best you’ve had.”
Miguel raised an eyebrow as you handed him the can. “I didn’t say the best. And you don’t have any with a glass bottle?”
You rolled your eyes before plopping back into your seat. “If I did, I would’ve hit you in the head with it quite a while ago. And especially now, after your challenge.”
“It’s not meant to be taken as a challenge–”
“Ah, but I’ll take it as one because my family’s reputation is riding on this. Or else mi abuela, que en paz descanse”–you pointed to the framed picture of the sweet, old lady right above the cash register–“lanzará sus chanclas poderosas, and I don’t want to get hit by those, they’re stronger than that car that was about to run you over.”
The roll of his eyes was obnoxiously overt, but you barely caught a glimpse of the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, masterfully hidden by taking a sip of his coke.
“How would this so-called challenge even work?”
“You’re asking the wrong question because that’s an easy answer. The next time you come, I’ll bake you a fresh batch of your favorite empanadas, no matter what kind and even if you come 5 minutes before closing.” Listing the types with each finger, it’s hard to contain your excitement. “Baked, fried, sweet, savory, you name it.”
“¿Y si no me gustan?”
“¡No seas tonto! Yet another dumb question, because you’ll not only like them, you’ll fucking love them. The right question is whether you’d think they’re the best.”
You swore he inched closer, the once faint smell of sandalwood from his cologne now overpowering your already-fried senses. “And what if they’re not the best?”
“I’ll get two more attempts afterward. If they still don’t meet your palate’s expectations, which honestly isn’t a worry of mine, then you’ll get free empanadas for the year.” It’s said without hesitation, with confidence you have no idea how you mustered all of a sudden.
Out of all moments to be driven by pride, you choose to do so while tightrope walking on a straight razor.
And you wondered if Miguel read your mind because, for the first time, you heard his laugh. It’s a sardonic one, but its deep timbre was as attractive as his face and meshed well with his incredibly dry sense of humor.
Maybe the walk wouldn’t be as bad as you imagined.
“You’re either extremely arrogant in thinking you’ll win, or too trustful in people to believe they wouldn’t scam you with this deal.”
“But you’re not just some normal person,” you reply simply, amused to see his shoulders slightly stiffened, “and I believe you when you said you’re not a liar. Call it a gut feeling.”
“What do you even get out of this?” he asked, puzzled at how you just weren’t setting yourself up for failure. He didn’t need Lyla for him to visualize the thousands of ways you could lose.
Your wolfish grin showed a lot more than your words. “Nothing, other than making my family proud. Anddd perhaps receiving a five-star review on Yelp wouldn’t hurt either.”
Running a hand through his hair, he shrugged before lifting his soda can toward you. “That’s the least I could do. But don’t think I’ll make this easy for you.”
You gently clinked his can with your cup of coffee as your eyes locked with his, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
–
translations (please lmk if you need more):
Mi gringa favorita - my favorite white girl
El jefe - the boss
Un pendejo - a dumbass
Maldita sea - goddamn it
Buen provecho, Jefe - Enjoy your meal, boss
Que chingada - what bullshit/wtf
Eres un idiota? ¡Casi te atropellan! - Are you an idiot? They almost ran you over!
No hablas espanol? - You don't speak Spanish
Estoy bien - I'm fine
Que dice el juez - What does the judge say?
¡Mentiroso! Lo dices como si fuera la última Coca-Cola en el desierto - Liar! You say it as if it was the last coca-cola in the desert
Una coca - A Coca Cola
Si la tienes - If you have it
Que en paza descanse - may she rip
Lanzarla las chanclas poderosas - she'll release her powerful flip-flops
Y si no me gustan? - And if I don't like it?
No seas tonto - Don't be silly/dumb
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Loki had no right to envy thor and praise the ground frigga walked on when odin was a shitty dad to all three of his kids
Alright! Time to talk about something that is not discussed enough: jealousy between siblings that grew up in parental abuse/neglectful situations.
As someone who grew up in an abusive/neglectful environment and has siblings, + knows many people who have the same set of parameters, jealousy between siblings is sort of natural byproduct because guess what!
Parents never, never, never abuse/neglect every kid in their family in exactly the same way.
My parents were awful to my siblings in ways they weren't to me, but I'm jealous of the good things they did to for them because they didn't do that with me (i.g. when I was looking for a job last year, i got yelled at every time I failed; when my sister was looking for a job, my parents were very present for her emotionally and assured her she was doing the best she could when she didn't get the job. Their patience was absurd to me) Stuff like that + bigger things. If we were neglected/abused in exactly the same way, my sister would have gotten yelled at, too, or I would have gotten support, but it didn't happen like that because parents don't DO that, even in healthy environments, parents are never the same parents to their kids.
Likewise in ways they were awful to my siblings, they were LESS awful to me, so my siblings are jealous of that. when you're raised in an environment where you have to fight for love and scraps of affection when your parents are in a parenting mood, you are always jealous when someone manages to get the scrap. Like yes, your siblings (often) become your closest friends and confidants in that situation because there's no one else who understands it like they do, but because the abuse/neglect is so different for everyone, it causes resentment.
So here's the thing: Thor, Hela, and Loki were not abused in the same way. Loki can have an amazing, healthy relationship with Frigga (he does not, but we can pretend for a moment) and Thor is fighting for scraps of love from her. (Parents and their parenting moods are weird) and Thor can resent Loki for that because he needs a mom too. Thor can get all the attention from Odin and have a healthier (it is not healthy) relationship with Odin, and Loki can resent him for that, even though he has a "good" relationship with Frigga, because he still needs a dad. Hela can have been banished and raised as Odin's sword and have NO good or even good-ish relationships with Frigga and Odin and she resents Thor and Loki for that because she needed parents.
But is all their trauma valid even though the WAY they were traumatized is different? Yes. Can we look at them and objectively choose the "worst" victim between the three of them? No. We can't. Because different things traumatize people differently. And why should we? it's not a competition. Even though parental abuse/neglect has a tendency to pit siblings against each other despite (usually) said siblings best efforts otherwise, it is NOT A COMPETITION.
Loki has every right to be angry with Odin over what he did to him even though Odin was terrible to all his children because IT! IS! NOT! A! COMPETETION! ABOUT WHO WAS ABUSED MORE! The most suffering victim doesn't "earn" the right to be traumatized. everyone was traumatized. Everyone gets therapy. They're just going to talk about different things in therapy and THEY ARE ALL STILL TRAUMATIZED.
I guarantee to you that if they were real people, Thor would absolutely be jealous of Loki and Hela. Loki would be jealous of Hela and Thor. Hela would be jealous of Thor and Loki, EVEN THOUGH all of them are being abused, it's just the fact they're not being abused in the same way.
And this is WHY I am always in awe of their relationship in canon because it is one of the best written sibling relationships under abuse I have ever seen because it is REAL. (The Umbrella Academy s1 did this spectacularly, also, btw) Sibling relationships under abuse are so so so messy because everyone is in survival mode and it causes SO MANY issues.
and guess what! Everyone IS jealous of each other
^ Thor's resentment that he wasn't taught anything by Frigga (listen to the way he says this, he is very jealous and bitter, i WISH they had poked this more)
^ hela jealous odin replaced her with Thor
^ loki jealous that Thor got more attention than he did from their parents + people in general (all this attention wasn't a good thing) (funnily enough, for someone who is said to be SUPER jealous, this is the only time in canon I can think of Loki actually admitting that he is)
so anyway, sibling resentment HAPPENS but everyone is still abused/neglected and it all sucks and EVERYONE deserves therapy. And hey, if Frigga decided to actually be a parent to one of her kids (she didn't) then I am HAPPY because at least SOMEONE got a parent, even though Thor deserved a mom just as much as Loki did.
#thor meta#loki meta#hela meta#hela#loki#thor#odin's a+ parenting#child abuse#we do not talk about sibling relationships and abuse enough#it would have helped me so much when I was younger if I knew any of this instead I just thought i was a monster#turns out i was just 13 and exhausted
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YOU’RE HIRED!
Nagi Seishiro
In which you ‘interview’ your jobless boyfriend
cw: suggestive at the end, choki is the name of nagi’s pet cactus for those who don’t know, I’ll proofread this later lol
802 words
"Sei you really need to get a job", you plopped down next to him on the bed as he looked extremely focused on what ever game he was playing.
"Ehh? Sounds like a pain".
"Breathing is a pain for you love, at this point you're just gonna have to build a bridge and get over it", you spoke resting your head on his shoulder.
He frowned. "Building a bridge sounds like a pain too".
"...i meant that metaphorically, I don't actually expect you to build one", you didn't think you'd ever have to explain that...but here you were.
"Still a pain".
You were on the verge of banning that word from his vocabulary.
You let the room fall silent for a second before you quickly snatched his console away from him and crawled to the end of the bed.
Which unfortunately was unsuccessful because Nagi grabbed you by your leg.
"Stealing isn't nice y'know", he pouted while he put his hand out, expecting you to drop his console back into his hand.
"Oh like that time you stole my last chicken nugget?".
"Borrowed actually", he huffed.
You shook your head and stuffed his console down your shirt, showing your empty hands to him as if you've just done the most incredible magic trick.
"You need a life babe", it was true. All he did was wake up, play games, and go back to sleep. It was unhealthy.
"You are my life", he responded.
You laughed. "Nice try but that won't get your console back".
"Aw, damn".
You thought of an idea that'd entertain you but also would let you figure out if your boyfriend was equipped for a job...or if anyone would even consider employing him.
"Alright pretend i'm your potential employer, if you pass my interview you can have it back", you sat up and crossed your legs.
Nagi agreed, but only if you'd make it easy.
"So tell me a bit about yourself", you decided to skip introductions. There was no way anyone could flunk that, even your lazy boyfriend.
"Mmm my name is Nagi Seishiro, I like games and sleep", he blinked at you as you urged him to go on but he only shrugged his shoulders. "That's it".
You face palmed at his hopelessness. "Sei is that seriously what you're gonna tell your employer?!".
"Of course it is".
The fact that he was serious added to your worry for him but the show must go on.
"Why did you decide to apply for this job?".
Nagi placed a hand on his chin in thought. He already had his answer but it just added to the theatrics of it all in his opinion.
"I was forced to apply against my will by my girlfriend", he spoke.
"Seiii! Your employer will literally leave!", you shook his shoulders gently.
"I say good riddance".
"Okay one more question, and answer it properly!", you forewarned. He thought his answers were pretty proper though.
"Why should we hire you?".
"So my girlfriend'll stop bugging me about getting a job...do I get the job now?".
"Fuck no", you laughed, scooting closer to your disappointed boyfriend who laid back down with a sigh.
"If it makes you feel any better, A for effort", you laid your head on his chest. "You can just work from home or something".
"I can be a house husband", you looked up at him quizzically.
"Sei, sweetie, love of my life, you don't even do the small chores you have these days...I don't think that's possible", you patted his chest.
He grumbled under his breath, you really had zero faith in him but you were only being realistic.
"Alright then I can be a stay at home dad”.
You raised a brow. Nagi of all people as a father??. "For that you'd need actual kids. We've none of those".
You were taken aback when Nagi moved your head from his chest to the pillow and got on too of you, a hand at your head and the other on your waist. You blinked blankly. "Let's get to baby makin' then", he said it so casually, you were shocked…but not completely opposed to the idea.
“S-seriously?”, you averted your gaze to the side.
Nagi’s hand slithered up your top as he shook his head.
“Nah, I just realised I’d still have to do chores”, he took back his console and laid next to you, continuing his game. “Besides we’ve got a kid already”.
“We do?”.
“Yeah, Choki”.
Masterlist :)
a/n: more drafts..I’ve a biology exam in two days and I just came back from holidays 💀 #ihatethefivekingdomsoflife
#especiallymonera#biologyismyfavsubjectthough#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk nagi#bllk x y/n#bllk imagines#bllk x you#bllk scenarios#bllk fluff#bllk manga#blue lock fluff#blue lock x you#blue lock scenarios#blue lock nagi#blue lock imagines#blue lock x y/n#blue lock x female reader#bllk x female reader#nagi x y/n#nagi#nagi x reader#nagi x you#seishirou nagi#nagi seishiro#seishiro nagi#seishiro nagi x reader#nagi seishiro x reader
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this is halloween || I.N. x reader
Summary: Working in a bar on Halloween sucks. What doesn't suck is your coworker Jeongin being shirtless in the name of it being a sexy costume (unless your boss made him do it, in which case you're prepared to murder him).
Word count: 3.7k
Genres: friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers
Warnings & Tags: mostly fluff, slightly heavy make-out session, mentions of customers being inappropriate with Jeongin.
A/N: hiiiii, welcome back on my blog! I hope everyone's doing good ^-^ I've written four small one-shots for Stray Kids' maknae line for Halloween (and the plan for now is to write four small one shots for the hyung line for Christmas/New Year's). Here is the first one, and I hope you'll enjoy them!
Seungmin · Felix
Working on Halloween night was rarely, if ever, a good experience, if you were in the service industry. You didn’t remember enjoying it even once since you’d started working, taking jobs wherever and whenever you could. It was easy to get hired for Halloween, and on crazy nights like that, tips always flowed in, but it was made barely worth it by the insanity you’d have to endure. The crowds, the noise, even the drunken people, all that, you could handle, but Halloween seemed to bring out the worst in people — or the worse of people, you couldn’t say for sure.
For fuck’s sake, a guy thinking he was a vampire had bitten you one time.
You couldn’t say you’d been surprised when the bar you’d been working at for close to a year had informed the employees that they were expected to wear costumes for the night. Up all night was always somewhat gothic-themed, after all. Plus, they weren’t asking for much. You’d merely been given a red headband with little demon horns on it and a note urging you to ‘dress sexy’. It had made you roll your eyes, and you had decided to only half humor the direction. After all, you’d be standing behind the bar for the night and you didn’t see a point in making too much of an effort.
When you’d gotten there, you had immediately known that had been the right decision. There were much bigger fishes to fry than your outfit, and neither your colleagues nor the manager paid you much attention. You were kept busy from the moment you set foot in the building to the opening, with not a minute to yourself. You only remembered to put the headband on as the very first clients stepped in through the doors.
After that, it was just an endless stream of people trying to get your attention and something to drink.
It was around midnight when you took your break.
Fifteen minutes, that was all you’d get — it meant both nothing and the world to you.
It’s as you’re sitting outside, quietly sipping on coffee that you need both to keep yourself sharp and to warm yourself up on this cold October night, that you’re joined by Jeongin.
You like Jeongin. A few years younger than you, he also joined a couple of months after you did. He’s sweet, hardworking, creative, and, as you find out tonight, has abs for days.
“What are you wearing,” is what comes out of your mouth when he walks towards you, even though your question should be ‘what are you not wearing’.
Jeongin glances down at his body like he forgot, then lets out a sigh as he, too, realizes that he’s very much shirtless — save for the suspenders that half cover dark nipples. You… take him in a little longer than you’d be comfortable admitting. Your eyes go from his large shoulders to the rock hard pectorals, to the well-defined abs that inevitably lead to the happy trail that disappears into his pants. Suddenly, you’re strongly aware of how close in age you are to him, even though you like to joke about how he needs to be taken care of.
He lets himself fall down next to you and the pout he gives you allows you to at least try to cling to that illusion a while longer.
“They asked me to,” he says. “Told me I’d be a sexy demon.”
Immediately, your spider-sense starts tingling. If there’s one thing you won’t sit for in silence, it’s one of your friends and fellow employee getting taken advantage of.
“Wait, did they force you?” you ask, brow suddenly furrowing. “Did they— insist or say something about your job? Because unless we signed very different contracts, I doubt that was in the job description.”
Jeongin’s eyes go wide.
He’s pretty. Shit, he’s really pretty, and he’s sitting so close to you that you can feel his body heat. It’s cold outside, but it was ridiculously hot in the bar, as is made obvious by the discreet sheen of sweat on his body.
“No, they, uh, they didn’t do that,” he says, sounding very sheepish now. “They just— asked.”
You click your tongue. They’d have to have known that he wouldn’t know better.
“I’ll talk to them. You shouldn’t have to dress in a way that makes you uncomfortable.” You gesture at yourself. “See, I’m wearing the stupid headband, but I’m not going to go out of my way unless they start paying me a lot better.”
Jeongin’s eyes follow the movement of your hand, and you feel very naked under his gaze as he takes in your body. Hm, you kinda wish you’d bothered to dress at least just a teensy bit sexier now. Then he looks at you again. Swallows.
“I think you look good,” he says. Then he smiles, and it’s such a sweet sight, cute dimples forming in his cheeks. Takes your breath away for sure. If it sounded more suggestive, you might be led to thinking that he’s flirting with you. It just seems genuine right now, though. Plus, now that you’re looking at him, you’re pretty sure he’s got at least three phone numbers written on his arms. The thought makes you wrinkle your nose in distaste. People tend to forget boundaries, when they’re wasted.
“I really need to get a word with Jin-Young,” you mumble through your teeth. A glance at your watch; your break is almost over and you don’t want to fuck your coworkers over, so you push yourself to your feet. You pat Jeongin’s shoulder, stopping yourself from lingering to feel the muscles under your fingers. Last thing he needs is yet another person disregarding his personal space. “You can throw something on, I’ll take care of it.”
He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again.
“Oh, uh, it’s fine, you don’t have to do that—”
For a second, you hesitate.
“You don’t mind? Has no one been… gross?”
You openly eye the phone numbers, and Jeongin glances down like he’s seeing them for the first time.
“People are just having fun.” He shrugs, but avoids your eyes.
If the blind, white-hot rage that goes through you at his reaction is any indication of the conversation that’s going to unfold real soon, you might very well lose your job tonight.
“I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him. Again, he says something about how you ‘don’t have to’, but this time you ignore him.
Jin-Young’s in his office, hiding behind mountains of paperwork and muttering numbers to himself as he’s making sense of the receipts that he’s lined up in front of him. The thin pieces of papers jump when you slam your hands on the desk.
“What did you tell Jeongin about his costume?”
After first looking at the papers in complete disarray, like he thinks they moved out of their own volition, he slowly raises his towards you. You’d have sympathy for how lost he looks — Halloween’s hard on everyone in the industry, like you mentioned — if you weren’t so pissed right now.
“To dress sexy,” he says after some long seconds. “Like everyone else. Why? Did he not put any effort into it? Are you jealous about that?”
While you are vaguely flattered that people appear to think you look sexy in your bare minimum effort, that is not the matter at hand right now.
“He’s shirtless,” you say. “Who told him he needed to be shirtless?”
Finally, some light appears in the man’s eyes.
“Aah, that’s right! He asked what I meant by sexy, and that was one of the examples.”
“You pushed him to it,” you say through gritted teeth.
The accusation doesn’t faze Jin-Young whatsoever.
“I didn’t have to. He seemed quite excited about it, if you want my opinion.”
You don’t, typically, but that does throw you off.
“He seemed quite uncomfortable with it,” you say slowly, but it sounds more hesitant now. Jin-Young’s many things, and one of these things is a terrible liar.
“Well, what did you tell him?”
Wait a minute, is this your fault now?
“Nothing! Just asked what he was, you know, wearing. It— it caught me off guard.”
Jin-Young raises an eyebrow at you, and you defensively fold your arms over your chest.
“You know,” he says, trying to be coy and failing miserably as he leans over his desk, “I wonder why he liked the idea of doing it shirtless. It’s not like he doesn’t get attention when he’s dressed normally. Hm, it’s such a mystery. I guess we’ll never know.”
“Are you implying that it was because of me?” You can’t keep the skepticism out of your voice for the life of you.
“Oh, I wonder. Am I now?”
One thing you’re not going to do is talk about your love life with your boss, so you roll your eyes at him — he won’t fire you until the next day, and even that he’s unlikely to do — and walk out, saying something about needing to get back to work, which isn’t wrong.
In going back to the bar, you run face first into Jeongin’s smooth, hard chest, which is truly the cherry on top of everything that just happened. Strong hands grab onto your arms, stopping you from stumbling back, and concerned eyes plunge into yours, so deep you could drown in them.
“Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
Great. You’re doing great.
“I’m fine,” you reply, squeakier than you’d like, “just need to get back to work.”
“What did Jin-Young say?”
That gives you a second of pause. You can’t just ask him flat-out in the middle of a shift on one of the busiest nights of the year if he likes you or not. You’re not wired that way.
“That he doesn’t see any issue if you’re not uncomfortable,” you answer instead of telling the truth.
Jeongin’s shoulders seem to relax, but the corners of his mouth turn down.
“Sorry, I really have to run,” you mumble, stepping out of his grasp. “If I don’t, Jihyo’s going to get crushed under all the customers. But I’ll— see you after my shift, okay?”
A spark of interest lights back up in his eyes. It’s quite silly, how happy and relieved it makes you all of a sudden. If, somehow, Jin-Young is right, and infuriatingly he often is, you’d hate to think that it was your comment that upset him. Which is why you allow yourself to tell him “Plus, it does look great on you”.
You do, then, turn on your heels and walk away like a coward before his jaw has even finished dropping.
The rest of the night is a blur, much like the first part. You do remember Jihyo glaring at you when you finally come back — you deserved that — and your legs and splitting headache very much remember that the customers did not let up once, but you don’t think you could give a single order you took that night.
Well, that’s a lie. You served far, far too many Bloody Maries, to the point where you ran out of tomato juice.
Still, your mind had mostly been trying to make sense of the various complicated thoughts that were swirling in your head all night. You had never allowed yourself to linger on the thought of Jeongin for too long. Of course you liked him, there was nothing to dislike about him. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t had moments.
New year’s day, the year before, when you’d known him for less than a week and he’d blushed terribly, refusing to meet your eyes, when the two of you found yourself under the mistletoe. Valentine’s Day, when you had covered for him as he was helping one of his friends who was in a crisis with his girlfriend at the time, and he’d gotten you roses the next day as a thank you. They’d come at a discount because it was the day after, he’d promised you.
Then, for your birthday, him and a few of your other colleagues had gotten you a cute necklace that he had told you, very smugly, that he’d picked out himself. He had an eye for these things, because as he tied it around your neck for you, you’d just fallen in love with it. He hadn’t been there for most of the summer though, and you had mostly written off the whole thing. The two of you didn’t see each other outside of work, and sometimes you lost touch with people, when you were a broke college student too busy trying to make ends meet to go out.
He’d come back in September, though, all tan and glowing and, okay, maybe your heart had given a little jump in your chest, but so what? Yes, Jeongin was hot. Big news. Maybe seeing him after two months meant that you weren’t that used to it anymore and that was why it got to you. But the tan had vanished as autumn set in more firmly, and your heart still insisted on doing that silly little thing sometimes when you laid eyes on him, or when he approached the bar with that wide, dimply smile of his.
It’s doing it tonight, as traitorous as ever, when you catch a glimpse of him in the very full room, still completely shirtless. Watching him isn’t helping with your conundrum though. You don’t have time to do it either way, but there are constantly women flirting with him, their whole body leaning towards him, and while you don’t blame them, not for a second, you can’t see what he’d have seen in you when he so clearly has his pick among all of them.
You’re not— you don’t lack confidence in yourself. You get hit on while on the job often enough that there’s no risk of that happening. You just haven’t had that much luck in the heart department. A guy like Jeongin, who’s hot, yes, but is even more importantly such a sweetheart, that’s… kind of unheard of, for you. Then, even if you do accept this premise, which you do very much question, for the record, there’s the fact that you work together, and if things go south, it could mean you would have to quit. You’ve been there before.
That’s if Jeongin even likes you. Jin-Young could have been wrong. You could be neck deep in delusion right now. You could be setting yourself up for the most crushing development of your life, because the more you’re allowing to think about it, the more your heart soars, and the less you can hide the ugly truth of your ridiculous crush on him.
Ugh. You’re going to kill your boss — that’s the most logical way out of this situation.
When you take your leave at 4 am, the bar is still bustling with life. It’ll be open all night, closing shortly before reopening at noon, but that is someone else’s problem. At least you can thank the past you for wearing flats despite the whole ‘dress sexy’ thing, because you’d be dead by now.
Jeongin’s putting a shirt on when you walk into the changing room, something that you find tragic but that’s probably for the best if you’re hoping to have a productive conversation.
“Got more numbers?” you ask, noting the doodling on his arms.
“I had to confiscate some people’s markers,” is what he sighs in reply.
“Maybe I should have gone harder on Jin-Young,” you mumble, anger filling you again at the thought. “But he said it was your idea to wear that, uh, costume, so I didn’t want to interfere, you know?”
Jeongin’s eyes turn into disks and it’s only then that you find yourself giving some credibility to what Jin-Young told you. Find yourself thinking that maybe, maybe?
“He… gave me the idea,” he says, slowly, eyes darting from the floor to the ceiling lights to the door on the other side of the room like he’s going to make a run for it.
“But among others, right?”
You’re doing everything you can to keep your tone light, turning your back towards him as you get your stuff from the locker, hoping that it makes your question sound casual and not like you’re fishing for information. Gosh, now you understand why kids slide across these little ‘do you like me? yes/no’ notes. This feels so silly. You’re a grown-up, you shouldn’t be dancing around the subject like that.
“Yes but that one was… Uh… Really low-effort.”
Right.
“He made it sound like he thought you were wearing it for someone in particular,” you say like you’d comment on the weather as you finish collecting yourself and turn to face him.
He’s still sitting there, frozen like a deer in headlights, eyes wide as saucers, staring, pleading for help. Your heart’s hammering in your chest. One of you is going to have to take the first step, and it’s the vulnerability of that step that terrifies you. You could have gotten it wrong. He could just be scared that you uncovered his crush on Jihyo, or Jeongyeon, or even on Changbin, for all you know.
Still, you’ll take the plunge. You glance at your nails like they’re a fascinating sight.
“I know I told you already, but I thought you looked great.”
He lowers his gaze immediately. It’s still not quick enough to stop you from seeing the wide grin that forms on his lips.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. It’s all… unhelpful. Could mean anything, and you’re all out of courage now. Then he looks up at you through black locks of hair, and you have to strain to hear what he says. “He was right.”
You blink.
“Who was?”
“I did wear it for you. Jin-Young told you, right?”
Regaining the control of your jaw after he just dropped that on you is way harder than it seems.
“Uh, yeah, yeah he did, what—”
“He just can’t keep his mouth shut.” Jeongin clicks his tongue as he gets up from the bench he was on, grabbing his bag as he does so. “But don’t worry about it, I won’t bother you.”
What?
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” he grimaces, looking away once more. “It’s fine if you weren’t, um, into it.”
“No, I— I just told you.” Your mind flashes back to your first exclamation, and you’re not sure how to take it back or explain exactly what was on your mind without stuttering and making a fool out of yourself, again. “It caught me off-guard,” you explain slowly. “But I was very into it.”
Jeongin’s eyes are still wide, but they’re not filled with fear or surprise anymore. He takes a step towards you as you lean against your locker. You pray high and low that this is going where you think it’s going. As he gets closer and the air grows thicker between you, he seems to be searching for something in your expression that would tell him that he’s gotten the wrong idea, that he should step back. He still hasn’t found it by the time his body brushes against yours, and so he takes the next logical step.
His eyes close as he leans towards you, and you’re smiling when his lips meet yours. He kisses you slow and delicate, intent on savoring every second of it. One of his hands gently lifts your chin to get better access to you, the other coming down to grab your waist, and you arch yourself into him without thinking. The moment’s soft and sweet.
Then he gets even closer, and you wrap your arms around his neck, entangling one of your hands in his hair, and it turns a little less sweet. He goes from carefully tasting you to devouring you, pulling away from you briefly catch his breath before diving back in, his hips pushing you against the locker. Shamelessly, you allow one of your hands to come down to feel the muscles of his chest. He grins at that, nipping playfully at your lower lip, but that doesn’t mean you miss the shiver that runs through him then.
He grabs your hand before you get any lower though, and takes ahold of the other one before you can try anything else on that front, and easily pins them both over your head with just one of his. Then he keeps kissing you, long fingers running over your body oh so sinfully, without ever lingering too long. He takes his sweet time exploring you, and it’s only after a particularly suggestive movement of your hips that tears a moan from his lips, that he lets go of you, stepping away with a crimson blush marring his cheekbones.
“Sorry, I, uh, I might have gotten a little carried away.”
There he goes, not meeting your eyes, again, even after he just kissed the hell out of you.
“I was very into it too,” you hear yourself replying, and he chokes at that. You can’t help the brief laughter that spills from your lips. Cute.
“S-so, just so we’re clear, I’m not— I’d love to take you out. On a date.” He’s back again with the pleading look. “It’s not— it’s not just a physical thing.”
“That’s good,” you smile, leaning towards him in a suggestive manner. It’s just too easy to tease him. “I’d really like it if you took me out on a date.”
He frowns.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t ever be able to do my job again and I’ll get fired.”
Again, you laugh. It just comes easy to you when you’re with Jeongin.
“Let’s see if you don’t get tired of me after one date before we start talking about you getting fired, hm?”
“That’s not going to happen,” he says, sounding far more confident than he has about anything else he’s said that whole evening, and wouldn’t you know it, there are butterfly swimming in your stomach now.
“How do you know?”
He leans in for another kiss.
“I just do.”
this might not make much sense and i'm sorry if it doesn't but i was just so happy to be writing again after such a long time :)))
i hope you all liked it and feedback in any form is always greatly appreciated!
permanent taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard
#jeongin x reader#in x reader#yang jeongin x reader#stray kids imagine#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#jeongin imagine#jeongin fluff#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#candywrites
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