#can i just hug them all?? they need that much
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Somthing about the Penacony bird siblings please?
You can do one of them or both of them 🥺🪽🪽
AU Sketch Ideas III
These 2 birds gave me 2 ideas
Series I, Series II
Posessive/Over protective bird siblings, bad grammar woohoo
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DreamDoll
Inspired by that bunny doll in Sunday + Robin's LC
Oh, what a precious lil bunny you are!
As a gift of being good kid, The Harmony has granted Robin and Sunday a best friend.
Robin treasure the rabbit like they are her other-half, Sunday however,since a child wary of new people.
But both gradually realize since you are a doll blessed by an Aeon, you are practicqlly their imaginary friends, this is proven by how everyone in the mansion, the maids and butlers unable to see you.
Thankfully,you are an imaginary being, you don't need to eat anything. However,they learn that you thrive from sweet dreams,if one of the siblings having a nightmare you'd get a tummyache which the siblings won't like it when seeing you in pain.
As their bestfriend, you always be the middle ground for the siblings, they will bicker on smallest thing like children do and you just insert yourself in and giving a solution to them.
You stick more to Robin, because she was the first person you see after you come into being. You slept on her bed more, play tea party, and always become her singing audience if Sunday is busy with Mr Wood.
That's why when Robin decided to travel and couldn't bring you, you are entrusted to Sunday, the grey-ish one.
You don't grow up. You are just a blessed doll and an imaginary thoughts of the Halovian siblings. Yet, seeing you stay small as they grow older always creating a nostalgic feeling for the siblings, you have their purest memory after all
Funny enough, Sunday loves to dress you up more than Robin. It may look weird in people's eyes why he is making doll size outfit, but Sunday has his prideful ego boosted whenever you walking around the room in outfit he designed.
However,true to your doll form, no matter how much Sunday fix it, your outfit always have patches and you always have colorful bandaids on you. It itched his brain so more often he make adjustment of stitching symmetrical patches.
One day,you woke up with a bad stomach, Sunday is confused and worry,because he had a good dream and Robin's letter doesn't show any issue. Yet, here you are in his arms groaning and whining in pain. Perhaps it was a false alarm?All he can do is soothing you in his arms, kissing the top of your head and give as much love and comfort as possible.
Until Gopher Wood spilled the true incident of Robin's condition. Sunday gritted his teeth and demanded to see his beloved sister. Poor little you scramble around worry why your bestfriend looks so upset, the only answer he can give you is a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead as he left for few days.
The way back home in the ship filled with back and forth argument with the siblings, Sunday's protectiveness and Robin's will in protecting people. They agree to talk more of this in Sunday's office.
Only to be greeted by a small pink bunny rushing to hug their legs.
Perhaps it is the power of Harmony blessed in you, or perhaps they both just love you so much. The intense energy from the both of them melted to the ground as your little hands grasped their legs, baby face beaming happy to see them.
Unable to say anything (due to exhaustion and the bickering) ,the Halovian siblings just get on their knees and wrapped their hands on your small body, their wings tickles your face. The scent of baby powder and soft perfume filled Robin's nostril, relaxing her mind after spending months in a war where everything is blood and gunpowder. For Sunday, your scent giving him the familiarity of his home, feeling comfort after needing to pick up her sister after she evade death. You are the stability in his life.
The sibling oath to protect you, ignorance is a bliss and your pure soul is their most precious treasure.
"May this one's blessed soul be protected, may the purest memory be preserve, and may the innocent be blessed with infinite happiness"
Because you are an imaginary friend, a mind concept manifest and blessed by Aeon, Gallagher can see you.
(Of course at first Sunday would be hella confused why he is able to)
Man basically growled to that dog.
Nest Helper
Inspired by the Kamisato sibling+Thoma, IPC language is basically the International language (like English), GIST OF OBSESSIVE/POSESSIVE
A travelling gone wrong.
Your travel ship broke down and crashed into Penacony.
A news of fallen ship reached the Family, usually the Hounds will take care of it, but Robin obviously can't stand the idea of a outsiders guest to be hurt and especially in an unfamiliar planet.
A sole survivor, you, with some bruises and traumatize with your experience. The Hounds offer to take custody of you however Robin already beat them to it.
She knew she should've asked her bother first, but seeing you trembling and frozen in fear reminda her of the bird she took care with her brother. So, she brings you home.
Sunday is quite upset, you are not some stray dogs easily being taking in. You just survived a crash and confused with everything. Do you have ID? Family? How about a - oh...you don't speak the IPC language.
Sunday insisting on teaching you by himself, he knows it will be more controlled in what vocabulary you would use, and besides, perhaps he can get to know you more, nobody knows if you are a spy or not,right?
Besides, Sunday loves it whenever you speak in your language and the accent you have.
While Sunday mostly teaching the formal language, Robin gave you the casual everyday converstation. Your outfit was chosen and dressed up by her.
Years passed by and look at you! Speak like a Penaconian!
As a gratitude, you work with the Family as the Halovian siblings' personal servant. Which they hated how you called yourself their servant,you are their friends!
But seeing you happy just be part of the family is enough for them to stop bickering about simple title.
You are naive, borderline stupid or socially unaware. Your lips can't tell lies even the smallest one to the point Sunday thought you are part of the Rememberance. But no, you just have good soul that's all.
You are one of the people the Halovian siblings consider a safe place, they will regress back like a child and be an obidient kid to you. Oh? You said it's bed time, well Sunday can't say no to you. Hm? Robin is overworking herself?Well, even if she begs you wouldn't allow her to get out of the bed.
Posessive, even Robin also protective of you. They pray everynight expressing the gratitude that they were the one found you first The idea of you fell into the IPC hands or working dangerously with the Hounds put fear into the Halovian siblings.
Robin really loved you and cared for you. Whenever you are near her, she would purposely using the Harmony to humm a song to make you relax and make you stay with her.
You are the bird they found wounded, alone and scared. However,the bird they have taken care before died, slamming itself to a window as it flies away. This time however, Sunday will never let that happen.
The bird wouldn't hurt itself flying if it has never left the cage in the first place, right?
#imaginedraw#hsr#hsr sunday#hsr robin#hsr imagines#sunday imagines#robin imagines#sunday x reader#hsr robin x reader#hsr robin x you#sunday x you#hsr x gn reader
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Eddie and Roan —Roan’s having a hard time adapting to the new babysitter. stepmom!reader, 1.4k
Eddie’s car is parked poorly on the driveway, but it’s there, and it’s nice to see after a long day. You park snugly behind him, pull your purse onto your shoulder, and rush out of your car, up the steps to the house.
You open the heavy front door.
“Roan?” you ask, greeted by the smell of Eddie’s tomato pasta and fresh bleach. “Eddie, did you mop?”
“Sasha mopped,” Eddie corrects from the top of the stairs. “She’s up here.”
“Sasha?”
“Roan.” He smiles at you. “Sasha is long gone home, baby. And if I were you I wouldn’t say her name. It hasn’t got me super far.”
You wince, hanging your purse and coat over the bannister and shucking off your shoes, aching feet a little less painful on the carpet of the stairs. Eddie waits for you on the landing, and he kisses you when you’re close enough, to your fear.
“I’m gonna fall.”
“No,” he says, encouraging you against him with a forearm to the small of your back. “Like I’d let you.”
“Is it really bad?”
“She went into a full blown nuclear meltdown. I don’t think Sasha will be back any time soon, she looked shell-shocked,” Eddie says.
His eyes flare wide and his lips pucker, but he looks less worried and more entertained. He knows Roan is gonna be fine eventually. She has a case of the crankies because nobody will let her have her way (but you would if you could).
“She definitely wants to see me?”
“I think you’re the only person she wants to see. She kept pushing me off of the bed.”
“Oh.” You kiss his cheek. He smiles like he did the very first time you kissed him, surprised and elated to be liked, which is a tad silly —you love him. “Hello. Dinner smells nice.”
“It does, doesn’t it? I’m gonna go make some garlic bread if you don’t need me.”
You hold his arm. It’s strange to be in love sometimes. You coparent his occasionally angry child. He makes you dinner every single night. There’s barely time to say hello, but you say it because saying hi to him is always, always fun.
Eddie gives you a quick hug. “I’m downstairs if you want me,” he promises.
You ease around one another. He goes down the stairs too quickly, you knock gently against ‘Princess Roan’s’ door. The placard is missing a few gems, but it’s still sparkly.
There’s no answer.
“Hello?” you ask, knocking the door again. “Baby, I’m coming in to see you.”
“…Okay.”
You smile at the sound of her voice. You’ve missed her, even though it hasn’t been that long. It’s better to see her, opening her door, finding her all curled up on her bed. She’s mostly guilty, you’d say, but still annoyed at the situation.
“Hey, angel,” you say, pausing against her doorway.
“Hi, mom.”
You grin. “Dad told me what happened.” She tenses, expecting a telling off, but Eddie has that covered. She can’t treat people the way she did, pushing poor Sasha and screaming at her to go away isn’t fair, but she had her reasons. Neither you nor Eddie plan to ignore them. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“What can I do to make you feel better than fine?” you ask.
“Let me come to work with you.”
“I told you already, Ro. You can only come with me for emergencies. They’re very grumpy at work.”
She glares and curls tighter into her ball. She’s small, less than a third your size but with feelings that would threaten to tip you over. Her dress is creased to death and her face is covered in tears.
“Wanna get dressed for bed?” you ask.
Roan sighs tiredly. “No.”
“Just let me wash your face then, princess. Tears make your eyes sore after a while.”
“Can you hug me?” Roan asks shyly.
You cross the room. She slides across her bed to make more room for you than you need, but you love how big she seems to think you are, in a way. Like she sees you as much older, maybe more protective, or that’s what you’d like to think. You lay down in her bed, and you move your arm from your side to let her know the hug factor is ready for business.
She lays her head on your shoulder.
“It’s hard missing you,” you say.
It’s hard missing both of them. You feel like a lot of your life is totally wasted at work when you could be talking yourself hoarse with Eddie, Roan between you both or on someone’s lap. You’d rest your face on his arm and watch his lips make each word. You could do it forever, but the world doesn’t let you. His stories and jokes have to wait until the weekend.
“It is?” Roan asks quietly.
“It’s so hard. I miss you all the time.”
“I miss you too,” Roan says.
“I know.” Her bed is crazy comfortable. You stretch out and turn your face down to hers, back twinging, content to stay her with her forever. “Can I give you a little kiss?”
She laughs and turns her cheek to you for kissing.
“It’s been a long time since I asked you that, huh?” you say, pressing three light kisses in the same place.
“You aks me sometimes.”
“You never ask me!” you tease in a shouting-whisper. “You just plant them on me!”
“You like kisses.”
“I love ‘em. You and dad give the best kisses I ever had.”
She smiles, but it slowly turns into a frown. “I don’t like being home with Sasha.”
“It’s summertime, bug. Me and dad have to work, Wayne has to work. We can’t find any other way.”
“Sasha doesn’t… She’s not… Ugh.” Roan rubs her sad face into your chest.
“Sasha’s still a stranger, baby, that’s all it is. I know she seems a bit weird right now, but that’s, like, how meeting new people goes!” You hug her to you loosely. “You remember when you met me?”
“You liked me on the first day,” Roan says.
“Of course I did.”
“Sasha doesn’t like me.”
“Sasha thinks you’re awesome. But when I first met you, Ro, you were littler, and you liked to cuddle more. It was easier for me and you. Plus, I think things for me and you are much more special.”
“She doesn’t like me anymore.”
You coo sympathetically. “No way. I think if you say sorry, and maybe me and dad can explain, Sasha won’t mind.”
“I just wanted you,” she says.
“I know. It’s okay if we miss each other, because we always get to see each other before dinner.”
“Is dad still mad at me?”
You sit up to look down at her, stroking the dark baby curls away from her face, smiling as they spring back into place. “Nah. But maybe he deserves an apology like Sasha. He said you gave him a couple of pushes too.”
“He was trying to give me a hug and I was still mad,” she complains.
“That’s okay. I guess dad’s not the kind to hold a grudge anyways.”
Eddie absolutely holds grudges. He has one-sided beef with half the town and mutual beef with the other half, but he doesn’t hold one with Roan. You wipe the tear stains from her cheeks with a warm cloth and get her changed into clean pyjamas, holding her hand the whole time at her insistence, which makes doing her buttons up hard.
“Why can’t uncle Steve have me?” Roan asks as you carry her downstairs.
“Because he has a job, too.” You put her down at the bottom of the stairs. “Most grown ups do.”
“And you can’t have summer vacation?”
“I wish, baby. I wish.”
Roan walks ahead of you into the kitchen, where Eddie’s setting the table, pasta and garlic bread and a big tossed salad waiting. Roan’s place has been set especially for her, with her glass of water, her glass of juice, her favourite fork, and the big purple cushion on her seat.
“Feeling better?” Eddie asks her, bending at the waist when she holds up her arms.
He gives her a soft hug, patting her back between lazy up and downs.
“Sorry, daddy.”
“That’s okay,” he says genuinely, “I know summer is hard. Maybe I can get some more days off soon.”
That sounds like a good idea.
“Please,” Roan says.
Eddie coils one of her curls around his finger. “I’ll see what I can do. And you’re going to be nicer to Sasha?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
Eddie tips her head back to kiss her nose. “I don’t want you to be sorry, I just want you to be kind.”
“‘Cos kind is the new cool,” Roan says.
“Yes!” He drags her up his chest to squeeze her tightly. “And we’re the coolest cats in town.”
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
♫ Summary: Eddie asked you on a date. Maybe. Possibly. But you definitely accepted. (5.6k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, mentions of sex, Reader wears a miniskirt, drinking, tipsiness, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult
chapter ten: this foolish lover's game
“I’m telling you: it’s a date.”
Nora flicked through the items on the clearance rack, searching for something in your size. She pulled out a floral shirt, wrinkled her nose, and promptly put it back.
“It’s 1993. A guy and a girl can hang out without it being something romantic,” you retorted, trying to ignore the fuzziness that filled your head at the potential classification of your upcoming night out with Eddie as a ‘date.’
“Very true. But that’s not the case here.” Nora sighed at the limited clothing choices and at your stubbornness. She stalked over to a rack of regularly-priced skirts, evidently on a mission. “And you know it, too, which is why you asked me to help you choose a new outfit.”
You had done that, though you definitely regretted it now. It had been so long since you’d actually gone out with friends that you really did need new clothes, but you had no idea where to start.
Enter Nora: best friend extraordinaire. She was just as great at finding clothes that flatter your figure as she was at being a study buddy. Her opinion mattered to you; it was necessary, especially considering the way you currently teemed with self-doubt.
She plucked a denim miniskirt from the lineup and held it against your waist. “Go try this on,” she said. You reached for the price tag, almost certain that it was out of budget, but she clamped her hand over yours. “My treat. Now, go.”
There was no arguing with her, not while she was shooing you into the dressing room. She clasped your shoulders as she steered you towards a curtain, yanked it open, and shoved you inside. “I’ll wait here,” she said.
You closed the curtain once again, unbuttoning your shorts and letting them fall to the thin carpet below you.
The skirt hung on its hanger, buttons all along the front, and it was impossible not to imagine Eddie being the one undoing them. His nimble fingers would dance across the seam as he positioned himself between your legs. You could practically feel his hands as they crept further upwards towards that dangerously sensitive part of you—
“Can we stop by the food court when you’re done? I’m dying for one of those cinnamon pretzels.”
The sound of Nora’s voice instantly cooled your heating skin. “Y-Yeah, sure,” you stammered.
Focus on that, you silently reprimanded yourself. Focus on Auntie Anne’s or Orange Julius or Panda Express—not Eddie tracing his tongue along your inner thighs.
You stepped into the skirt, warding off any lingering Eddie-related thoughts. Monday night would be like hanging out with Nora or Ben. There was no need to worry about your hair, or your clothes, or your makeup. Eddie was a friend, and only a friend, despite what absurdities your other friends planted in your head.
With the last button fastened, you allowed yourself to glance at your reflection in the mirror. The denim hugged your curves delicately, providing just a hint of what laid beneath without giving too much away. It looked odd paired with the old t-shirt you’d thrown on this morning, but the right top would make a world of difference.
Nora clapped her hands together the moment you opened the curtain. Her brown eyes lit up, and a soft squeal of excitement emanated from her throat.
“You’re gonna have Eddie eating out the palm of your hand,” she declared, reaching out to give you a little spin.
You gently pulled away from her as though it would offset the fluttering low in your stomach. “I told you, it’s—”
“Yeah, I know. Just two friends going to the bar, pretending they don’t wanna bone each other.” Nora rolled her eyes, already sick of the will they-won’t they song-and-dance.
You ducked back into the fitting room to change out of the skirt. “He doesn’t wanna bone me.”
“But you wanna bone him?”
It came out as a question, but you knew she meant as a statement.
“First of all, stop saying ‘bone.’” You hissed, tugging your shorts back over your legs. “Second, Eddie and I are friends, and he’s taking me out for graduation. End of story.”
Nora’s sigh was audible from the other side of the curtain. “Not ‘end of story.’ You didn’t answer my question. Do you wanna b—have sex with Eddie?”
Your hesitation was enough of an answer for her, and though you couldn’t see her face, you were certain she was grinning when she announced, “I knew it!”
“It’s not like that,” you protested. The fitting room was suddenly far too crowded and depleted of oxygen despite you being its only occupant. You threaded the teeth into your shorts zipper and grabbed the skirt, now heavy in your hand. “Yeah, he’s pretty cute, but—”
“But nothing. C’mon, just admit it: you like Eddie.” You could detect a hint of exasperation in her tone. Frustration, even, or confusion as to why you continually denied yourself life’s small pleasures.
You couldn’t answer that, either.
Protest died with the subtle twitch of your lips that gave away the truth. You hated your tells, the ones that swiftly uncovered the feelings you worked diligently to stifle. And you knew that if Nora kept pressing you about this crush, you would eventually break down and divulge it all.
Not just your burgeoning romantic feelings towards Eddie. Not the way you told bad jokes just to see his lopsided smile and the nose crinkle that often accompanied it. Not the multiple occasions when you caught yourself staring at the muscles in his arms and ached to kiss right along the hardened edge of his biceps.
Once you said those thoughts out loud, gave them the weight of spoken words, they became real. Able to hurt you when he inevitably didn’t reciprocate them.
And that terrified you.
“You have a big ol’ crush on him,” Nora continued, “and he has one on you.”
“He doesn’t have a crush on me,” you mumbled, purposely averting your gaze from hers.
Through peripheral vision, you could see her raise one brow. “Says who?”
Says the song lyrics about his ex-girlfriend. But that was too much to explain, so you slapped on a tight smile and shook the thought away. “Never mind. Let’s just pay for this.”
Nora swiped her credit card with an ease that only comes with the luxury of not having to worry about paying the water bill. She never had to dip into her own savings to keep the lights on. Buying her friend a miniskirt for a maybe-date wasn’t going to affect her grocery budget.
“I have the perfect pair of Docs to go with this. You can borrow them,” she said, pointedly adding “for your date.” She was either oblivious or didn’t care that the cashier was eavesdropping on your conversation.
“Not a date.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Nora plucked the bagged skirt from the cashier, flashed her a grateful smile, and shoved it in your direction. “Just answer one question for me—are you gonna wear lace panties underneath this, or cotton?”
When you once again failed to look at her, her grin widened.
“That’s what I thought.”
On Monday evening, you found yourself poised in front of the mirror, still fogged from your shower. The inky blue sky leaked into your room through the time-worn blinds, the sun almost fully faded into nighttime, which meant that Eddie would be knocking on your door at any moment.
The hem of your black fitted t-shirt met the waist of your skirt, the slightest gap between the two fabrics. It wasn’t scandalous by any stretch of the imagination, but it still conveyed one message: you wanted Eddie to look at you. Wanted him to notice your soft skin the way you noticed his flexing muscles, with awe and more lust than you cared to admit.
Did it all reek of desperation? What if Eddie was wearing the sweatpants he’d donned to remove the wallpaper? Just the possibility of him looking at your own outfit, at the effort you put into your appearance, and realizing you’d interpreted a friendly gesture as a date had you cringing.
No, this was a bad idea. You had to back out, now. Claim that you weren’t feeling well, maybe even take some ibuprofen in front of him, and promise a raincheck. You did feel the familiar throbbing that accompanied a tension headache, so it wasn’t a total lie—
Knock knock.
Sweat overrode the antiperspirant you’d lathered on, flooding you with a nervous heat. You frantically wiped your slick palms on the bed sheet like a cat at its scratching post and opened the door.
Eddie's eyes widened and his tongue brushed over his lower lip. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped to your exposed thighs, drinking in every ounce of visible skin as though it was the only sustenance he’d ever need. His stare was hungry, if only for a moment, before his words broke the trance.
“You look…good. Pretty.” He swallowed thickly and forced himself to meet your eyes. “Sorry…just not used to seeing you all dressed up.”
Pretty. Eddie Munson thought you were pretty. The notion sent serotonin surging through you, a soft giggle passing through your lips. It was embarrassing, this schoolgirl crush, the way a simple word from him rendered you pathetically speechless.
A barrage of compliments perched themselves on your tongue, waiting to be untethered. He looked good, too; beyond that, he looked handsome. His cream colored shirt was baggy around his torso but clung to his biceps, drawing your attention to the vein that ran up his forearm.
You willed yourself to say something, anything, to reciprocate his kind words.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, mirroring your nervous energy as he gently rocked from the heel to the toe of his Reeboks. “We should get going,” he said.
Opportunity slipped from your grasp; anything you said now would seem like pity. Your only response was a nod as you locked the door and started towards the lobby.
Pretty. Pretty. Pretty.
Mom stood behind the desk, flipping through the check-in sheets with the cap end of a pen clenched between her teeth. She looked up, blinking in rapid succession when she saw you and Eddie approaching. You weren’t sure what surprised her more: you going out, or the man accompanying you.
“Well, don’t you two look nice!” She grinned, though the smile didn’t quite reach her tired eyes. “What’s the occasion?”
“Just getting a drink,” you said as casually as you could. “Celebrating my—the wallpaper.” It was a lame finish, one that Mom didn’t quite believe, but she lacked the energy to push further.
Guilt panged in your chest, not just at the lie, but because part of you felt like you were taking advantage of her exhaustion. You couldn’t tell her the real reason for the celebration; bile rose in your throat at the thought. Instead, you smiled and promised to be home before the start of your shift.
“I’ll make sure she behaves,” Eddie added with a mischievous edge, not sexual in nature but still had your stomach doing somersaults. “I know she can be quite the troublemaker.”
Mom laughed at this, so pure and genuine that you were half-tempted to ask Eddie if you could stay here and talk with her all night. Maybe he could break the news to her, since they seemed to get on well enough.
You felt her watch as Eddie opened the door for you and gave the tiniest bow to let you pass, though you didn’t dare look back at her. Not because she wouldn’t approve—just the opposite. Looking at your mother would confirm what you already knew deep down: she’d be beaming at the sight of you going on a date.
If that’s what this was.
Eddie shuffled to walk right by your side, sneakers scuffing against the broken pavement. A flicker of hope ignited within you that he would do something to confirm that this was, in fact, a romantic endeavor and not just two friends getting a drink. Perhaps an arm slung over your shoulder or a hand laced with yours.
There was only the gentle brush of his fingers against yours, knuckles grazing one another as they nearly slotted together. It was taunting, the way they could be a perfect fit if given the chance.
You almost went for it, almost grabbed hold of his hand yourself, but fear had you in its own grasp. Even if the benefit outweighed the risk, you couldn’t stop picturing him tugging his hand away from yours in a humiliating show of rejection.
“You okay? You’re not, like, mad at me again, are you?” Concern creased Eddie’s brows, and your heavy heart realized that the last time you were this quiet around him was after the argument.
“Not at all. Sorry.” You shot him a reassuring smile. “Just lost in my own thoughts.” You sent up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t ask you to elaborate on those thoughts.
Luckily, he just tilted his head towards you, his eyes taking on an even more doe-like quality than usual. “That’s the problem with you smart people: you’re always thinking too much.”
You laughed as you nudged him, your right shoulder colliding with his left. He stumbled slightly, quickly catching himself before he could fully lose his balance.
“Hey!” He yelped, rubbing his upper arm. The muscles beneath it flexed at his touch. “Don’t damage the merchandise.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I…” You shook your nerves loose and faced him, speaking before you fully lost yourself in his full, waiting lips. “I’d never damage merchandise as priceless as you.”
Eddie stopped in his tracks, the compliment seemingly rebooting his brain. Was it too forward? No, it couldn’t have been; he’d called you pretty just moments before. And it wasn’t as if you’d been forward enough to say he was sexy (though he was) or accidentally emasculated him by pointing out how adorable his soft dimples were (another fact).
His exhale was a disbelieving chuckle. “I, uh, don’t think anyone’s called me ‘priceless’ before. ‘Worthless,’ maybe, but…” He trailed off in an attempt to contain it as a lighthearted joke, but it was anchored by an undeniable truth.
If you could, you would wash away the ego-marring stains left behind by those who hurt him. Scrub and scrub until it was once again pristine as though they’d never been tarnished by self-doubt.
“Priceless.” You said it definitively, leaving no room for further argument.
Eddie ducked behind his hair, letting the curly locks dangle over his mouth to mask his flustered smile. You were willing to bet that a blush was spreading across the apples of his cheeks.
Curiosity loosened your inhibitions enough for you to reach out and tuck a few strands behind his ear. Sure enough, a delicate pink tinged his skin. You wanted to kiss it until your lips grew swollen from where his stubble scratched them raw.
Doing that would require something far more potent than inquisitiveness.
There was a decent crowd that night, not as packed as the weekend would have been, but there were enough people that only one empty stool remained in front of the bar. Eddie gestured to it, offering you the seat just as he had on the subway last week.
You tucked the denim fabric of your skirt behind your thighs as you sat. Eddie watched every movement, an unreadable desire darkening his expression, as if he wished it were his fingers on your skin.
Your smile seemed to snap him from his trance. He waved down the bartender, who held up her forefinger to signal she would be right over.
A shadow draped over you as you scanned the liquor-cluttered shelves, bathing you in a welcoming darkness. Protection. Eddie’s arms framed your torso, his hands planted firmly on the bartop. And when you lightly grasped his wrist, your thumb rubbing against the soft hairs on his arm, you could have sworn you felt the tension leave his body in one swift exhale.
“What are you gonna get?” The grainy pop music playing from the speakers and a cacophony of neighboring conversations muffled his voice, and he had to shout just to be heard.
“A vodka tonic.” Simple, classic, and most importantly—not expensive. Though you probably should let him be the judge of that, considering it was his treat. “If that’s okay?”
Eddie laughed softly and nodded. “It’s your night, Heiress.” The tip of his tongue swiped over his lower lip.
He ordered your drink first, then placed his order for whatever beer was on tap before declining to open a tab. Your chest went slightly concave; you should have followed his lead and ordered the cheaper option.
As if sensing your guilt, Eddie pulled back enough to look you in the eye. “It’s your night,” he repeated, grabbing your short, stout glass and placing it in your hand. He raised his own taller mug, proposing a toast. “To a badass future social worker and all of the lives she’s gonna change. For the better,” he added quickly.
Before he could clink his glass to yours, you locked eyes with him. The brown eyes that steeled themselves against you the night he first checked into the motel were now pillow-soft, beckoning you to fall. He may not have even been aware of it himself.
“To the coolest rockstar I know,” you said, allowing the lips of your glasses to touch. “And the second-coolest guest to ever stay at the motel.”
Eddie raised a brow. “Second?”
“You really think you’re cooler than Phyllis?”
“Touché.” He relented with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink that left a foamy mustache on his upper lip. Without a second thought, he licked it away.
The movement enraptured you: his tongue swiping over his skin, leaving no residue in its wake. That same tongue that peeked out from his mouth when he was focused, a simple muscle, but it held your attention for a beat too long.
“Are you…” Eddie gestured towards your vodka tonic, and you realized you hadn’t even taken a sip.
Cheers to embarrassing yourself ten minutes into the date. Non-date. Whatever it was.
The vodka’s bitterness and the bubbles from the tonic water seeped into your tongue. You savored the burn as you swallowed. It had been so long since you’d had a drink, and just the first taste had you buzzing. If you didn’t pace yourself properly, you’d be tipsy far too soon.
The sound system crackled and microphone feedback shot through the bar. You and Eddie winced in unison, each taking a gulp of your drinks.
A man in his mid-thirties, balding with a goatee, stood at a makeshift stage at the back of the bar. “Welcome to Music Mondays here at The Brink. That’s right…it’s karaoke night!”
There was a smattering of applause that didn’t match the emcee’s enthusiasm, but he remained undeterred.
“Sign up here with your name and your song, and we’ll get started in a few minutes. Drink that liquid courage and come on down!” The microphone screeched once more as he slid it back into the stand.
You turned to Eddie, your eyes wide with mischief. “You’re gonna do it, right?”
Eddie scoffed. “Fuck, no. I’m not getting up there and making a fool of myself.”
“But it’s my night,” you reminded him. “You said so yourself.”
He looked poised to argue, one hand gripped tightly around the mug’s handle, his mouth ready to say no. But then you batted your eyelashes and pouted, all in jest. A dramatic showing that you didn’t expect would convince him.
A wry smile betrayed his tough exterior as his thumb ghosted your lower lip. Lightning crackled at his touch, soft as it was, illuminating your bones and surging through your veins. When he pulled back, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, a light red stain tinged his skin. If he noticed it, he made no attempt to wipe it off.
“It is your night,” he mused, gaze flickering to your mouth before promptly returning to your eyes. When you lit up in anticipation of him conceding, he couldn’t help but grin back. “One song. And I’m choosing it.”
You couldn’t argue with him, not when his touch still lingered on your lip. He disappeared for a moment to add his name to the list. As soon as he was out of sight, you took a much larger gulp of your drink. A trickle escaped out of the corner of your mouth, and you haphazardly swiped at it with the back of your hand, lest it ruin the shirt you’d picked out especially for the date.
This isn’t a date. The reminder was as harsh as the vodka itself. You lifted the glass once more and drained it until the half-melted ice cubes clicked against your teeth. Whatever this evening was, you needed to relax. Enjoy Eddie’s company without reading too much into his every move.
You turned your attention to the TV mounted above the shelves, engrossing yourself in the scrolling closed captions. A weatherman announced that this summer was going to be a ‘scorcher,’ and though he said it with a plastic grin, you inwardly cringed at the impact the air conditioning would have on the electric bill.
“I’m up third.” Eddie’s voice broke in, turning the upcoming weather into a distant memory. He raised his brows when he saw your glass, now empty on the sticky bartop. “You finished that already?”
“Mhm.” Your smile was sloppier than you intended, your head starting to float from your neck as tipsiness crept in.
Eddie breathed out, shaking his head with a glimmer of a smirk. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or impressed, and you didn’t have time to ask before he waved over the bartender. “Just water, please.” He nodded his thanks when she slid it over. “Drink,” he said to you, and you dutifully obliged.
“What song did you pick out?” Something that is supposed to be screamed more than sung, you assumed.
He just shook his head again and swallowed more beer. “It’s a surprise.” His eyes twinkled when he said it, and you wondered if his choice erred more on the side of Madonna than Metallica.
A woman got up on stage and began her rousing rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.
Peppy? Upbeat? A great way to kick off karaoke night? Absolutely.
On-key? Not even close.
“If you ever start a new band, you should ask her to join.” You chinpointed towards the woman currently butchering the Cyndi Lauper classic. “She’s got that star power, I think.”
Eddie snorted but composed himself quickly to play into your joke. “I’m worried she’d outshine me.” He widened his eyes in faux concern. “Go solo and leave me behind, y’know?”
“She’ll probably steal all of your groupies, too,” you added, tutting as if to say, what a shame.
“Even you?”
You cocked your brow. “Who said I’m your groupie?”
He leaned his elbow against the bar, mouth slackjaw at your rejection. Disbelieving laughter left his throat in a huff.
“I take you out, treat you to the best watered-down drink this city has to offer, and this is the thanks I get?” His curls brushed against his cheeks when he shook his head. “Who would you be a groupie for? Wait, no; lemme guess.” He tapped his finger to his chin. “New Kids on the Block? Boyz II Men?”
“I think I’d die if Joey McIntyre so much as looked at me.” You hadn’t meant to say that aloud. The watered-down or not, the alcohol was certainly turning sober thoughts into tipsy words.
Eddie chugged half of the beer, watching as the woman on stage finished her song and left with a triumphant bow. “Pretty sure your shitty taste in music is what plays at the gates of Hell,” he said to you.
Your response was a mere flick of your middle finger.
A man in a suit took the stage next, loosening his tie as he positioned himself behind the microphone. A group of similarly-dressed men started hooting and hollering obnoxiously the moment the opening chords to Don’t Stop Believin’ blared through the sound system.
You looked back to Eddie. If he was nervous about singing karaoke, he didn’t show it. His shoulders were relaxed, his posture much less tense than on the walk to the bar. Maybe the alcohol loosened him up as it had you.
“What about you?” You asked. “Whose groupie would you be?”
“Easy,” he said, not missing a beat. “Joan Jett. Total badass, killer musician, and hot as hell.” He nodded to confirm his choice before leaning in and loudly whispering. “Bad Reputation was basically my secret anthem in high school.”
You laughed. “Did you imagine it playing in the background when you walked down the halls?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Eddie grinned and polished off his beer.
His confession warmed you—or maybe that was just the vodka working its way through your bloodstream. Regardless, you were intrigued by the glimpse into his past and found yourself hungry for more.
“Can I ask you a non-groupie related question?”
“Shoot.”
Your tongue was heavy, the resulting slurring softening your words. “If your hometown is so shitty, why are you trying to go back?”
He loosened a chuckle, glancing at the shelves of booze before looking back to you. “My uncle still lives there. He, ah, he raised me after my dad split and my mom…y’know.” Eddie cleared his throat and managed a small smile. “Why? You want me to stick around?”
The hair on his forearm tickled when he slid it over to nudge you, his pinky finger overlapping yours.
Of course you wanted him to stick around. You’d smear honey all over the motel’s siding to lure more bees, tempt them to build their nests among the sticky sweetness, just so he would have a reason to stay.
The man on stage belted out his final “don’t stop believin’” as his buddies enveloped him in drunken hugs.
“All right!” The emcee bleated into the microphone. “Next up, we have…” He checked the sign-up sheet. “…Eddie! Let’s give him a hand, folks.”
A smattering of applause echoed throughout the room, the excitement of karaoke night already dwindling. If Eddie noticed, he didn’t show it.
“This one’s for you, Heiress.” He winked and sprinted towards the stage.
Eddie pressed his foot on the microphone stand, adjusting it so it was level with his lips. His fingers curled around its neck, dramatically tugging it closer as the instrumentals piped through the sound system.
Well, since my baby left me
Well, I found a new place to dwell
Well, it's down at the end of Lonely Street
At Heartbreak Hotel
His hips swung back and forth, the gyrations not quite as precise as Elvis’s, but he still snapped them in time with the staccato guitar chords. The right heel of his sneakers tapped the floor as he continued, voice dipping into his lower register.
Where I'll be, I'll be so lonely, baby
Well, I'm so lonely
I'll be so lonely, I could die
Free hand pressed to his heart, Eddie leaned in your direction and tilted the mic stand while he sang. The movements were reminiscent of how a man would dance with someone he loved, impassioned yet graceful. Charisma oozed from every pore, his natural command of the stage an enduring reminder of his brief foray into rock stardom.
The other patrons faded into the background as his eyes fixed on you, a personal serenade rather than karaoke night amongst a sea of drunks. Easiness weaved through each note he sang, his body loosening and his lips curving into a smile when you let out a vodka-fueled whoop of admiration.
Now, the bellhop's tears keep flowin'
And the desk clerk's dressed in black
Well, they've been so long on Lonely Street
Well, they'll never, they'll never look back
Eddie pointed to you when he referenced the desk clerk, the crowd following his every move. The heat of their stares only exacerbated the warmth that the alcohol already sent coursing through you, but you felt no need to hide. The rich timbre of his voice was a magnetic pull, drawing you in until it echoed deep in your bones.
Although it's always crowded
But you still can find some room
For broken hearted lovers
To cry there in their gloom
Where they get so, they get so lonely, baby
Well, they're so lonely
They'll be so lonely, they could die
He ended the song with one final swing of his hips, one foot turned inward in an Elvis-esque pose. If anyone else applauded for him, it couldn’t be heard over the sound of your cheers.
He made a beeline for you. “Did that live up to your expectations?” Sweat dripped from his flushed forehead and down his temples.
“Exceeded them, actually.”
The bartender slid over two shot glasses filled with amber liquid. “On the house,” she explained when you and Eddie looked at her in confusion.
You shouldn’t. The TV set that broadcasted the news showed that it was nearly nine o’clock and you were already tipsy from the one drink. Adding a shot—and subsequently mixing liquor—was a recipe for disaster.
“You don’t have to drink it if you don’t wanna,” Eddie said. “I’ll take them both.”
With a shake of your head, you took the glass nearest you and downed it, the whiskey burning stronger than you had anticipated. Tears reflexively welled in your eyes, leaving you clinging to the hope that you had blinked them away before Eddie could notice.
He let out a soft, low whistle. “Well, okay then.” His own shot disappeared past his grimacing lips.
A familiar synthesized beat replaced the idle hum of conversation as a middle-aged woman began her song. Eddie threw back his head when he heard it, groaning as though the ‘80s hit left him in agony.
“You’re such a music snob,” you lamented, reaching out with both of your hands to grab onto his. If this is what liquid courage felt like, you were more than happy to ride that wave. “There’s more to life than heavy metal.”
“I just sang Elvis!” He protested, but his efforts were all in vain as you hopped off of the barstool and led him away from your empty shot glasses. “Heiress…” His tone was a warning, one that you promptly ignored.
You let your gaze meet his, the vodka-and-whiskey combination working overtime to stifle your nerves.
“Dance with me.”
Eddie laughed. “You’re tipsy.”
“I’m tipsy and I want you to dance with me.”
“You wanna dance, huh?” He laughed again when you nodded. “All right; let’s dance.”
Eddie’s hands slid down to your wrists and adjusted your arms so they draped over his shoulders, his curls tickling your fingers when they clasped behind his neck. He hesitated for a second before letting his own fingertips rest on your waist, careful to avoid dipping below the small of your back.
Watching, I keep waiting, still anticipating love
Never hesitating to become the fated ones
The current performer was marginally better than the first two, but her voice wasn’t nearly as polished as Eddie’s. She kept getting too close to the mic, the lyrics muffled each time her purple-lipsticked mouth grazed the cover.
You inched forward, your chest against Eddie’s as the two of you swayed in tandem. His fingers flexed before tugging you closer, evidence that you weren’t the only one affected by the shot.
“Can’t remember the last time I heard this song,” he mused wistfully. “Probably my senior prom. The last one, anyway.”
“You had more than one senior prom?”
His cheeks, already pinkened from the liquor, flushed a deeper shade of red. “Yeah, it, uh, took me a few tries to graduate,” Eddie admitted. “But I did it.” A sheepish smile still held a twinge of pride.
“You did it.”
“Yeah.” One arm reached back to grasp your hand and twirl you around, and you breathed an audible sigh of relief when the room didn’t spin with you. “But tonight,” he grinned, “is all about you.”
You. Not the motel or its crumbling financial infrastructure. Not the guests or your parents. Not school or exams or term papers. Just you.
An involuntary giggle wriggled its way up and you ducked your head to hide it, your forehead brushing against Eddie’s lips. Did he purse them slightly in a hint of a kiss, or was that a figment of your imagination?
Turning and returning to some secret place inside
Watching in slow motion as you turn my way and say
Take my breath away
“You okay?” Eddie asked, a smile in his voice.
“Mhm. Just happy.”
“Yeah? Good.” His forefinger tucked under your chin and tilted it upwards, granting him a better look at you. The tip of his tongue parted his lips and swiped over the whiskey-scented residue. “You deserve to be happy.”
You did deserve to be happy. You deserved joyful moments in your life, people who surrounded you in sunshine even when rain poured.
My love, take my breath away
My love, take my breath away
You deserved Eddie.
Standing before you, his eyes never strayed from your form, flicking from your face to where his hands gripped your waist. His chest rose and fell in time with the music.
“I…” You swallowed your fear, already tempered by tipsiness, curling your fingers into the back of his ribbed t-shirt collar.
Desire rippled down your spine and you leaned in to close that godforsaken gap, already tasting him on your tongue.
But not before he pulled away.
--
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#eddie munson#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things fanfic#fanfic#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things#lam
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jealous jake ꣑୧
as a scorpion man, jake would often be jealous to you, his possessiveness showing up when the members look at you a little too much for his liking or at random men on the street. he can act cocky when he can trust the other man, meaning his member but if he doesn't know him, there would be a hint of insecurity in him.
as you guys went shopping, jake will always be following you like the puppy he is, holding the clothes you want to try or just your hand bag. you could send him to change one piece of clothing size, he would automatically agree and go straight to wear he should go without forgetting to kiss your temple. but when he sees you chatting with another man, he would come back fast to you. hi baby, i found your size, he'd say staring at the unknown man in front of you, who is this ? he would then add with faux honesty. and even if you reassure him in telling him you were telling the unknown man that you have a boyfriend but that wouldn't stop his scorpio feelings to come out, so she told you she has a boyfriend and you're still here ? finally showing his true color. as the other man leaves you guys be he would finally look back at you w a pout and whine that's why i can't let you alone a single second out or you're too pretty to stay alone baby, he would say as he hugs you. after that incidence, he wouldn't let you alone for a second nor his small pout would go away : he doesn't know how to ask for reassurance n his body can't help but show it. so if you tell him what he needs to hear, in an other shop, he would abruptly ask you baby, you love me and only me right ? or you'll never leave me, right ?
as you come at the door unnoticed to surprise jake, his member heesung open you the door with a welcoming hug. as you guys start to chat, jakes wouldn't miss to hear your voice, n would come out of his bedroom, your sudden venue making his imaginary tail waving, only seeing you so happily greet his fellow member w a hug. usually he wouldn't mind as he loves you also because you're nice n sweet but as you are currently dressed up specially for him, wearing his fav mini skirt w a more or less revealing top, he can't help but question why would ou let another man touch you that way. he would be even more baffled as he see you interact w him instead of coming straight to him. hi babe, he would say coming close to you, one hand on your waist the other on holding your cheek before finally kissing you deeply wanting to disgust heesung away from the both of you. he would even out the tongue in it, kissing you for minutes if that means he will leave you alone. as the public is finally gone, he wouldn't ask your question wether on why he is suddenly kissing you like this, but would lead you the his room. why were you hugging him ? or what were you doing ? would be asked his jealousy barely hidden. you'd obviously finally get why he is being like this, as it's not the first time jake likes to claim you in front of other people, and if you tease him about it, he'd act obvious jealous ? me ? pfft no, why would i be jealous for. and he would take him few minutes for him to admit, yes i am jealous, so horribly jealous, he would finally admit coming closer to you, you know i cant have all of these people all over you, specially when you look like that baby, he would murmur, his hands coming to your waist strongly pulling you closer to him. and i don't like sharing, he'd add as he would bend down to your height so what if i'm jealous, you're mine, he would barely whisper right in top of your lips before kissing you again.
notes : who else want jake to claim them @___@
@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee
#enhablr#jake soft hours#sim jake fluff#sim jaeyun fluff#sim jake#sim jaeyun#jake sim#jake sim x reader#jake fluff#jake x reader#jake headcanons#enhypen jake fluff#jake sim x y/n#jake x y/n#enha fluff#enhypen fluff#jake enhypen#enhypen
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can you write about spencer getting flustered around confident!reader please thanks<33
spencer reid x confident!reader | fluff | cursing, banter
spencer was completely enamored.
that was the only word for it, he decided. it was a weird moment to come to this realization, seeing as he spilled his glass of red wine all over your dress and was helping you clean it up frantically, but that's when he realized he was completely and utterly enamored with you.
you were always this way, so unapologetically yourself even when anyone else in the situation would be embarrassed. it's half of the reason spencer had decided to drink tonight. he didn't usually drink but he decided that tonight was the night he'd work up the courage to ask you out, and since he didn't have half as much confidence as you, he found himself relying on the liquid to give him that push.
but he just found his hands shaky as he approached you. he didn't expect you to look so good tonight, not that you aren't usually stunning, but tonight you were adorned in a short white mini dress that puffed at the end, white heels making your legs look longer than they were, and a simple silver chain wrapped around your neck, the one you always wore. you were tightly hugging garcia, almost squeezing the air out of her as you handed her a gift, wrapped in a cheetah print gift wrap that screamed 'garcia'.
spencer spent too long getting ready tonight, choosing to show up in a grey suit, loose button up and tie. spencer would never admit this out loud but he began wearing his ties looser so that when you saw him, you would adjust it. he liked the contact and being close enough to you to smell your perfume, but it didn't make him feel any better for tricking you.
he approached, one hand shoved in his pants pocket, the other one holding his glass of wine. he sauntered over to you, grinning ear to ear with his cheeks tinged pink.
"hey spence," you smiled, turning to him. he liked when you did that, gave him all your attention, your body, mind, and eyes solely focused on him, "you clean up nice."
he practically choked at your comment, words coming out in a jumbled mess but the smile leaving his eyes, "w-well, ye- yeah, you clean up nice... as- as well!" he managed out embarrassingly, but in true you fashion you didn't make him feel bad, you didn't pity him or tease him, you just did a spin in your dress making his throat go dry.
"thank you!" you giggled smoothing down your dress with your hand, "i got this dress on sale and was so relieved when it fit me like a glove," you beamed at him, pulling up the straps, "it was the last one left,"
"well, you look," he blinked for a moment, "stunning," he surprised himself with how effortless that came out and for a moment had stunned you too. you blinked back, a smile creeping back onto your face.
"thanks spence," you replied quieter, but still with all the quiet confidence you carried everywhere. spencer liked being friends with you, but more than that he liked being around you. he always assumed that people who liked themselves would be stuck up, vain almost, but it was never like that with you. you made it a point to make sure everyone in your life saw themselves how you saw them. you'd do small things like give compliments to nearly everyone you met, to bigger things like creating an entire book of your 'favorite things about penelope' when she made an offhand comment that merely suggested she didn't like herself. it was clear you were content with who you are by how you viewed the world. there was no competition, there was no need to put anyone down, just the kindness of your heart.
your compliments usually made spencer fluster, trip over his words (and his feet) but he always assumed you were being nice. you complimented everyone and he fell in line with everyone. but when you stepped towards him, lifting your hands to adjust his tie, he felt himself faltering again. your manicured fingers adjusted his tie just as he planned but you didn't move when you were done. you stared up at him with big doe eyes that made spencer melt immediately.
"you smell really good, spence," you said, no, you whispered and it made him nervous. the way you were looking at him made him think that you wanted this, that you wanted him. in that moment he decided now was a better time than ever to finally ask you out, but the thought alone of you rejecting him made him nervous. it made his hands shake as they got clammy and as he went to speak he forgot his glass of red wine was still in his hands. before he knew it he was spilling red wine all over the pretty dress that was the last one left. the one you just told him had fit you like a glove and that you had been excited to find. it spilled and he felt his chances with you trickle to the floor as everyone looked over.
"shit," he cursed, "i'm so sorry," he looked up at you nervously, putting his now empty glass on the table beside them. he was ready for you to yell, to cry, to shove him, but instead you just laughed, giggling as you wiped at your dress.
"well, there goes two dollars down the drain," you shrugged, looking up at him to see his nervous face, eyes almost glossed over, "oh, spence," you cooed, "it's fine, i'm fine. mistakes happen."
"but you just bought it, and it does fit like a glove and i'm so sorry, i'll buy you a new one," he rambled out walking over to the kitchen to get some paper towels, you hot on his trail as he took the whole roll and starting dabbing at the stains on your dress. you wanted to push him off, tell him it was okay and to not worry, that there was no way he would be getting the stain off. but you liked the contact so you just watched. you knew it gave his hands something to do while he anxiously patted at it and apologized over and over again like an incantation.
"spence," you said, voice sweet and saccharine, "stop, it's okay. it's just a dress and the dress was literally two dollars," you stilled his hands by placing yours over his, he stopped breathing for a moment as he looked at you anxiously.
"i just got so nervous, you were so close-" he started.
"oh, shit, i'm sorry. i know how much you like your personal space, i should have-" you rushed out immediately feeling guilty but he cut you off as well.
"no, i liked it, i like you being close, i just got nervous because-" he stammered out, the confession getting lost in the dual apologies.
"because germs, i know. i'm so sorry, spe-" you were cut off by him squeezing your hand.
"because i like you," he cut you off, his hand now shaking, "and i know that sounds childish but i just want-"
"it doesn't sound childish," you whispered gently, "it sounds sweet,"
"it does?" he asked, voice dripping with worried as he looked in between your eyes.
"yeah," you stood taller, "i like you a lot, spencer. why do you think i'm always fixing your tie?"
"why do you think my tie is always loose?" he quipped back, small smirk forming on his face, causing you to playfully hit him.
"you little player," you giggled, your tone teasing as you beamed up at him, "well, are you gonna ask me out?" you asked, removing your hands from his to cross it across your chest.
"w-well, yeah, i was getting to it," he breathed out nervously, "would you like to get dinner with me sometime?"
"with the guy who just ruined my dress?" you replied, eyebrows raised but instantly feeling bad when you watched the color drain from his face, "spence, that's a joke, of course i want to get dinner with you."
"cool," he breathed out, face returning to its full color and a deep shade of red, "cool, cool, cool,"
#asked & answered#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfic
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hey lovely! can I request a fic where r is feeling insecure with her body lately and emily shows how beautiful she is? fluff w some smut if you feel comfortable :)
Hi anon! your timing couldn't be better. This has been sitting on my drafts for weeks, i kinda hated it, but you just gave me an excuse to get back to it, so thank you for that and for requesting! Hope you like it <3
will you? - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
summary: see the ask. I changed it a bit but the main idea is still there
tw: insecure reader, face-sitting, oral sex, body image, tiny bit of angst (blink and you miss it)
a/n: this one might be a bit messy but i still enjoyed writing it! like & reblog <3
You throw your bag far away when you enter the hotel room. This case was getting hard, nothing was making sense, and you had been working for the past 14 hours none stop.
You need to ether sleep, eat something, a shower, or an orgasm. Or maybe all of them
but that isn't an option right now, because you're mad at her.
You aren't even sure why you had gotten so upset about it, its not like she had actually done anything, but you were still annoyed.
You were actually mad at yourself, more than at your girlfriend, but her words still resonating on your head wouldn't go away.
Emily's arms wrapping around your waist make you jump, getting you out of your thoughts.
Hugging you from behind, she rests her face on your shoulder, you feel her warm breath on your neck, she kisses your cheek lovingly.
Her arms leave your waist to reach your shoulders, her hands massage your arms which makes you close your eyes in pleasure, relying on her touch. Maybe staying mad wasn't that worth it.
"You know what i think you need?" she moves a strand of hair to kiss the curve of your neck "mh- what?" you say, a smile of pleasure starting to form on your lips
"I think you know what" she answers, you can feel her smile against your skin, her teeth brushing against your shoulder, and then you realize what she has in mind
"No, no, Em, absolutely not" You refuse, pulling away from her touch, turning around to look at her, crossing your arms.
"ugh i can't believe you're still thinking about it, after this morning" there it is, you are pushing her away again.
Why is she so insistent though, why can't she just read your mind and understand?
"Ok, ok I'm sorry, I just don't understand. You're always so open to trying new stuff, and that, just... i don't know, baby, i just want to know why you don't want it, that's all" She says, her hand reaching to rest on your arm to comfort you.
You just can't tell her, you're too ashamed. That same morning your girlfriend had suggested you tried something new in bed. She had asked you, boldly, (like she always did) to sit on her face.
She had insisted so much, you had denied every time.
Really, what was there to hate? your beautiful girlfriend was literally asking you to fuck her face, to eat you out, to give you full control. But you just couldn't do it.
"c'mon, baby, i just want to understand" she is being gentle, using her persuasion skills on you, calling you by the special pet name that would only come out in moments of special intimacy or vulnerability
She knows how to get to you, and that only makes you angrier.
You take her hand off your arm, getting yourself away from her, you need to be alone.
"I'm gonna go take a shower, try to keep it in your pants while i'm gone, all right?" you spit at her, and seeing her mouth-opened expression, you regret it inmidiately.
Standing under the warm stream of water helps you get your mind off of things for a while, while you wander what's exactly got you all worked up like this.
Emily doesn't deserve any of this, she had been nothing but sweet. Yes, she has been insistent about it, but that doesn't mean she had to be hit in the face with your own insecurities.
Getting out of the shower you stare at your reflection on the bathroom mirror. God, you hate how it makes you feel, but what you hate the most is how you're paying your own frustrations with your girlfriend.
Wrapped in a bathrobe, you get out, ready to face an angry Emily, instead she lays on the bed, already on her sleep clothes, reading with her book resting on her knees
"Em?" you try, she looks at you from over her book, then gets back to reading
"You're not gonna talk to me?" you ask
"whenever you're ready to actually talk to me, then I will. I'll try to keep it in my pants in the meantime, though" she shoots back in a sarcastic tone.
She's right, you shouldn't have said that, it had been a low blow.
You sit beside her, taking the book from her hands and placing it on the nightstand. She looks at you with mixed anger and sadness.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, you know i didn't, this is just hard for me" you try to explain. "Look, I just don't think it's a good idea, alright?"
"I don't ever want to make you uncomfortable, but i want you to talk to me, i've been trying to get to you, and you just shut me out" she says, sitting upright on her spot on the bed, taking your hands on hers, looking you in the eyes
"it's just... i don't want to... hurt you" her mouth falls open once again "hurt me? that's what this is all about? baby c'mon, you won't hurt me, why do you say that?" her tone switches to full concern now, the previous argument already forgotten
"yes, i will, I will choke you with this big stupid things and you won't ever want to go down on me again" you finally let out
"well... I'll die a happy woman then" she chuckles, trying to downplay it
"Ok, baby, listen to me" she holds your face with both her hands, forcing you to look at her, the tenderness of her gaze deepening into you
"i love every part of you, even the ones you don't like, thighs included" she waits for an answer but you don't say anything.
Emily lifts your your chin with her finger, and leaves a soft peck on your lips, the contact makes you relax instantly
"you are smart" she says, leaving another soft kiss on your cheek
"and beautiful" now getting your other cheek
"and sexy" she kisses your nose this time
"and so, so hot" she moves back to kiss your lips again, and you chuckle nervously at her words
"what can i do to help you believe me?" you shake your head "let me bury myself into you, please" her pleading is getting too much, her thumb caresses your face so softly, so tenderly.
How could you deny her anything when she asks so sweetly? you finally nod, the huge smile spreading along her face
"Em, are you sure?” you ask, biting at your lip as you watch your girlfriend sit on the edge of the bed and recline back, laying face-up atop the covers with an eager grin spread across her face. “I might weigh too much…”
Emily raises her head up and shoots you a look. “Honey, I’m positive,” she says, trying to keep the whine out of her voice.
She wants you on her so badly she can barely stand it, eyes flickering between your face and the bathrobe that covers your thick, delectable thighs from view.
A moment of deliberation passes, then, without another word, you reach down and untie the soft white hotel bathrobe, letting it slide down your arms to fall to the floor at your feet, leaving you completely naked in a matter of seconds
"fuck" you hear her mutter "you're so beautiful" Emily breathes
“Not as beautiful as you” you murmur as she clambers onto the bed.
You crawl up it until you are kneeling beside Emily's head, the mattress dipping slightly beneath your combined weight.
“Is it okay if I…?”
“Yes.” her decisiveness tells you she wasn't joking, she does want this more than you had thought
You take a deep breath in and then lift a leg, swinging it over Emily and settling it on the other side of her head so that you are straddling her, your cunt hovering mere inches over Emily's mouth.
"Promise me you will tell me if i'm too heavy, or if you can't breath" too excited to resist, Emily reaches up to thumb at your clit.
“I will” she says, sliding her free hand along your thigh, rubbing comforting circles into the soft skin.
“I promise you i will tap you twice, but i won't need it" she reassures. "You’re gorgeous—fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.”
Cautiously, you lowered yourself down enough that your near-dripping pussy was just barely pressing against Emily’s face.
You were planning to keep as still as possible in order to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs around Emily or put too much weight on her, but that idea flew out the window almost immediately after her tongue darted out, flattening itself against the lips of your pussy before dragging upward and settling at the soft nub of your clit.
“Oh,” you gasp, giving a shuddery little jerk of your hips before you can stop yourself.
Emily moans in reply, the sound vibrating against your walls and causes you to whimper again.
Her tongue flicks out, circling your clit and applying occasional pressure, whilst two fingers push inside you, crook and rubbing at your sennsitive inner walls.
You shudder and gasp, quickly losing yourself to the feeling.
“Oh, fuck, Emily,” you gasp out, finally giving in to the temptation to reach down and fist her hand into her silky hair.
Your girlfriend lets out another appreciative moan when you give it a rough tug, the vibrations making every feeling intensify.
Losing yourself to the pleasure, you rock your hips against Emily, knees pressing hard into the mattress. She has always been an expert on driving you wild like this.
Her nose rubbing right at your clit and you couldn’t help but moan, gripping tighter on the headboard. God, she has the perfect nose for this.
Emily’s mouth wrap around you, tongue sinking into your pussy as far as she can while she sucks at you, eagerly lapping your juices into her mouth.
Her hands groped at your ass, encouraging you to roll your hips, effectively riding her face.
She keeps up the pace, mouthing desperately at your clit until you can feel yourself letting go.
Hips stuttering and then stalling. Your thighs shook up, inner walls spasming around Emily’s fingers as you fall over the edge and into bliss.
“Oh fuck! Fuck, Em...” You breath out, your chest heaving as you very slowly open your eyes, coming down to earth as Emily leaves little kitten licks on your cunt, sucking up as much of your juices as she could.
Your body shudders when her nose brushes against you again, this time an accident and she chuckles softly, helping you swing your leg
over her and drop onto the bed beside her.
Emily stays put, lying face-up as she catches her breath. Then, once she feels able to, she rolls onto her side and grins at you.
"good?" she asks, her fingers softly playing with your hair
"absolutely perfect" You reply with a dreamy smile, pulling her to you for a kiss. You can't help but moan into her mouth at the taste of yourself on her tongue.
"I'm really sorry of what i said, Em" you said, keeping you face close to hers, holding her
"It's ok, I know you were upset. I just want you to know that i love every single part of your body, no exceptions" you kiss her sweetly, her words causing a warm feeling to spread on your stomach
"you're perfect" you say, pulling her in for another kiss
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───
Hope you like it! reqs are still open!
#emily prentiss#wlw#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss x reader#lesbian#emily prentiss lesbian#lesbian pride#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#criminal minds one shot#criminal minds smut#criminal minds#emily prentiss smut#emily prentiss fluff#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss fic#emily prentiss fandom#emily prentiss x jj
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late night date at home (sjy)
bf!jaeyun x fem!reader
wc: 0.5k
comments, likes and reposts are appreciated!
lying on your bed, that's what you do every day. tonight you were especially bored as your boyfriend jaeyun was at a family dinner, which meant he wasn't really available to you physically but was available to you by message. he would never let you be 100% bored, he would always be there for you no matter what. that's what you love about him. "i really miss you jaeyun." he'd reply to your message straight away, because he himself would’ve wanted to be by your side from the start. "if you only knew how much i miss you too, i'd do anything to be by your side right now." this message makes your heart ache a little, so you pout at it. you sigh a bit, look at the clock and see that it's 8pm. you put your phone down beside you and curl up, closing your eyes. your eyelids gradually become heavy when you hear the doorbell ring. you weren't expecting anyone. you frown and decide to go downstairs and open the door. you open the door and freeze, your heart starting to beat. jaeyun...? immediately, he throws himself into my arms and strokes your back. i can't do it without you my love, not even a single second. my eyes start to fill with tears, he really is an incredible boyfriend. and... and the family dinner? he pulled away from me and rest his hands on both of your cheeks, looking at you straight in the eyes. i left them, i told them it was an emergency, they don't need to know after all, you're the first person i care about. he kissed my forehead and took me back in his arms. i love you so much jaeyun. resting my head in his neck.
a few hours later, you both are on the sofa, watching a movie, arms around each other, under a little blanket. it would be a lie to say that you're focusing on the film when you've been teasing each other for hours. between the tickling and the kisses here and there, at this point there's no stopping you. jaeyun please, let's just watch the movie, i can't breath from you tickling me. jaeyun pouts when he hears you say that, all he wants is to spend time with you. you've been doing that for hours, but he doesn't want to miss a single moment. he holds your cheek with his hand and kisses you. it's a good thing I came here, I couldn't stop thinking about you for a second during the family dinner. I nod and smile at his words. I'm so lucky to have you in my life, if you only knew how often I'm afraid of losing you for no real reason. After these words, I gradually become emotional. jaeyun pulls you on his lap, then takes you in his arms. he strokes your back very gently so as not to rush you. nothing will separate us, not even a wave of light, sweetheart, all right? nothing and no-one can separate us, I won't tolerate it. you hug him tightly and places your head at the hollow of his neck. i love you so much. after these words from him, he tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and kisses your shoulder at his disposal. i love you so much jaeyun. to the moon and back.
notes: hey! my first real post? i'm testing out ideas, i'd love to have some opinions... also, im taking requests if any of yall want me to write your ideas!! kisses!!! <3
btw, huge shoutout to @jakesangel for inspiring me, and encourage me to write, it means a lot, she’s amazing!! 
#jake soft hours#sim jaeyun fluff#sim jake fluff#jaeyun fluff#jake x y/n#jake sim x reader#jake fluff#jake x reader#enhypen jake fluff#jaeyun imagines#jake sim x y/n#reader x sim jake#enha fluff#enhypen fluff#jake enhypen#imagine#soft#writing#sjylouvre
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────── 𝓒AMPUS CUTIE ྀི ࣪ ⊹ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ
< 심재윤 x fem!reader >
𝜗ϱ ⋅˚. ──── in which everyone on campus wishes they could be you, the “campus cutie” who is also sim jaeyun’s girlfriend. wc. 1.1k
I don't need, I don't need, I don't need 어떤 golden ticket도
All I need, all I need, all I need 내 자신을 믿는 것
Your head absentmindedly bops along to the catchy beat, eyes looking from side to side to try and spot a familiar dark-haired man. You pay no mind to the curious stares and points that come your way, happily in your own bubble.
“Isn’t that L/n Y/n?” One person whispers.
“How is her hair so long and shiny? The heat’s made mine go all frizzy…”
“Is she even real? Her skin’s so clear…”
“You know how she’s a straight A student? rumour has it she’s never failed a single class.”
“I wish I had her closet… or even her style— I wish I was her.”
These were only a few of the comments you had heard whilst walking around campus, having grown tired of standing and waiting around. You had never intended to become any kind of ‘popular girl’ once college had began but, you had to admit that you did enjoy the attention from time to time. The ‘campus cutie’ was a pretty cool title too, never failing to crack a smile any time you heard it.
Nobody’s life was 100% perfect but you liked to think you came pretty close. You had a loving and supportive family, great friends and—
“Baby! Over here!” Jake calls.
A super cute boyfriend.
A wide smile spreads across your features as you run over to him, softly colliding with his chest. His muscular arms come to wrap you in a hug, squeezing comfortingly. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?” Jake asks, tilting his head.
“Not really, I just got bored of standing around.” He coos at affectionately pats your head. Reluctantly you pull away, getting a chance to fully take in the beauty that was Jake Sim.
His outfit was simple today, a white shirt paired with some jorts. The thick frames that sit perched on top of his nose adds a cute, nerdy boy-next-door type vibe and you love it.
“Hello? Earth to Y/n?” He chuckles, watching as you shake your head a little to regain focus. Jake’s hand easily finds yours as you begin the walk back to your shared apartment, ring clad fingers slotting perfectly in between your own. “It’s real hot today, wanna get something to drink?”
“Ooh sure! What drink are we thinking?”
“Hmm… Tapioca?” He grins at your excited gasp. This man knows you too well.
The courtyard was a beautiful sight in summer. Fresh flowers blooming and clear water sprouting from the fountain, it was actually known to be a common spot for couples to hang around.
Jake was a confident guy. You could tell just from how he carried himself and from how he spoke, Jake knew how much of a hotshot he was. Like you, he had straight A’s and was even the leader of your university’s science club. It’s a known fact that girls love hot guys, especially ones who were smart like Jake.
You’re not surprised when you see a certain trio walking your way. They giggle, twirl their hair and bat their eyelashes at your boyfriend. Hoping, praying that they have even a sliver of a chance with him.
The main girl of the ‘Jake fan club’ steps forward. “Jakey~! I saw you in class today, why didn’t you say hi to me?” She pouts, attempting some sort of innocent doe-eyed look that’s supposed to make Jake feel bad, you guess?
“Ah, sorry, I must’ve not seen you.” Jake responds, smiling apologetically. You can tell he doesn’t really care, if this were you talking he’d be spewing apology after apology followed by kiss after kiss.
“Really? But I—”
“Sorry, Seeun, was it? Me and my girl have somewhere to be so if you wouldn’t mind…” Seeun’s eyes briefly flicker to you and give you a once over. Jake gently tugs you away before she can say anything else.
The trio is left standing alone, looking stupid. All eyes are on them apart from the one pair they wanted.
“Trying to talk to Jake like that while he’s with y/n? That’s so…”
“Y/n and Jake go so well together, I can’t imagine anyone better for either of them.”
“Right?! They both look like models, I’m kinda jealous…”
You giggle quietly at the last comment that manages to reach your ears. “Me? A model?” You laugh.
“What’s funny about that? You’re pretty like one and you have great charisma too… maybe you should look into it.” You feel your cheeks warm up at that, a soft chuckle leaving your boyfriend as he teasingly pulls you in to ruffle your hair. (He fixes it afterwards of course, knowing how much effort you put in to style it prettily each morning.)
A contended sigh leaves your lips once you enter the small tapioca store. Not only did it have the best drinks it had the best air conditioning too. The small jellies burst in your mouth causing a sweet peachy flavour to bless your tastebuds.
“Is it good?” You hum happily.
“Wanna try some?” Jake perks up and the imaginary fluffy, golden tails wags excitedly as he nods. You exchange drinks and he has the same, if not more enthusiastic, reaction.
“If you’re all cooled off let’s head out? There’s a nice park nearby.”
“Sure.”
The two of you finish your drinks and dump them in the nearest trash can, finding a cute little bench to sit on. Well- for Jake to sit on while you take his lap, of course. His head rests against your chest, your hand gently playing with his newly cut hair. A comfortable silence settles between you both.
“…I kinda wish I wore a jacket.”
“Hm? Why? It’s hot as hell out here.” You joke. Jake pouts, softly squeezing your bare thigh. “Oh.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, oh.”
“At least it’s not windy?”
You giggle as his head whips up to look at you. “Mean.”
“Sorry, sorry~”
“You know I don’t like other guys being able to see my pretty girl’s thighs…”
“Ooh that rhymed!”
“Y/n.”
You smile, cupping your pouty boyfriend’s cheeks. “There’s no need to be jealous, babe, you know I’m all yours~” he seems to be reassured, absentmindedly rubbing your bare skin as if to warm you up from the nonexistent cold.
“I know but… a little proof would be nice.” You roll your eyes playfully at his cheeky grin, kissing him sweetly on the lips. You can still taste remnants of your peach tapioca when you pull away.
“Was that enough proof for you?”
“Mm… I think I need a little more to build your case.”
#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x you#enha jake#sim jaeyun fic#jake x reader#jake fluff#enhypen jake#jake sim#sim jaeyun fluff#sim jaeyun
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THE DUTIES OF A BODYGUARD — JIYAN
⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: jiyan never does an assignment half-assed. accepting a job as your bodyguard means being there to protect you at all times.
⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: bodyguard au, modern au, fem!reader, reader is a rich gorl, spoiled but like aware?, almost nudity, 17+
⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k
⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: inspired by creativepromptsforwriting’s bodyguard prompts :> red flag!reader kinda LMAO she’s very diff compared to how i normally write them but yk what don’t we all wanna pretend we’re a spoiled rich bitch with a hot bodyguard sometimes?this reader would 1000% drive jiyan crazy but like in the best way yk vibes u.u
There were few individuals who truly needed bodyguards, in your humble opinion.
Not the president of whatever country, not the elderly monarchs that should be abolished, not billionaires who made their money exploiting the vulnerable. For all you cared, most of those people were entitled assholes who didn’t need to be protected.
The only people who deserved bodyguards were those under great threat. And sure, the powerful and influential people could be in danger as well. But frankly, you still didn’t care about them.
And, naturally, when your wealthy father told you he hired a bodyguard for you, you were suspicious. As far as you knew, you weren’t under any threat. Your family wasn’t even multimillionaire status. Just a few millions…
Certainly not enough to warrant much attention or animosity that your safety was in question. You were only the heiress of a multimillion dollar company. Most of your friends were as well. It was nothing too out of the ordinary in your circle.
You thought having a personal bodyguard was useless and immediately spoke out against your parents when they mentioned they would hire one for you, though none of your complaints were listened to by your family, of course.
Unfortunately, those complaints melted away when you saw your bodyguard.
His long, blue hair was tied up in a ponytail on the back of his head and you immediately thought of how fun it looked to play with. His golden eyes drew you in with his serious stare. The tight black fit of his clothes hugged every defined muscle on his arms and abdomen, and you felt yourself staring for just a little too long.
You met his gaze and the corner of your mouth quirked mischievously when you saw him eyeing you as well.
“This is your new bodyguard, Jiyan,” introduced your father. “He is to accompany you everywhere, understood? And please, do not try to scare this one off.”
You smiled dryly, shrugging in response. It wasn’t as if your words mattered much around here. At least this time, your bodyguard was handsome enough to look at. Maybe you could even have some fun with him.
At least, that was your thought before you realized Jiyan took your father’s words very literally.
He accompanied you back to your apartment—up to the penthouse suite, of course. And you showed him an open guest room for him to stay at if need be. However, he didn’t stop at the living room or common areas like you had expected. Jiyan followed you even as you entered your room.
As he slid through the door behind you, you gave him a questioning look.
“Can I help you?” you asked, voice higher than normal.
He shook his head. “No, I’m only here doing my job.”
“Your job?” you echoed. “Does being my bodyguard entail you being with me no matter where I go?”
Jiyan nodded without the slightest bit of hesitation. “Yes. As your father said, I need to be in the room with you at all times.”
He said that with such sincerely you almost giggled. You were certain he was taking the job too literally, but as you noticed the darkness outside your window, you decided you could mess around with him for a bit.
“At all times?” you asked with a raised brow.
“That is correct.”
With an exaggerated sigh, you shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
When Jiyan didn’t reply, you began taking off your shirt, unfastening the pearl buttons adorning the front. With each button, you revealed more and more skin, from the curve of your breasts to the softness of your stomach. Without turning around to hide yourself, you slipped the sleeves off your shoulders and let the light pink, tweed jacket fall to the floor.
Jiyan’s expression did not visibly change, but the color of his ears sure did. They were tinged a pretty red and you felt almost bad for teasing him.
“Are you sure you want to stay in my room at all times, Mr. Bodyguard?”
He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on you but ensuring his gaze never dropped below your face. The self-control of a true bodyguard, you complimented in your head.
“Is this what your father cautioned against when he said not to scare your new bodyguard off?” retorted Jiyan, answering your question with one of his own. “Is this a common recurrence?”
You shook your head and made a face. “Ew. Never. The last guy was too old and not my type.”
Jiyan’s lip quirked up—the first time you ever noticed his expression change—before it returned to its normal position. “As opposed to me…?”
“Someone who doesn’t look old enough to be my great-uncle and is very much my type,” you confirmed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have to finish getting undressed for bed.”
You stood there in front of him in only a bra, a tweed skirt—matching your top that was discarded on the floor, naturally—and thin stockings. Slowly, you unzipped the side of your skirt and paused before it actually fell to the ground.
“Are you sure you don’t want to step away now?” you said, hesitancy creeping up on you for the first time as your fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra. While you didn’t mind Jiyan seeing you like this, you didn’t actually want to make him uncomfortable. You had some morals, after all. “No one is forcing you to go this far to protect me. I promise, you’d still be an amazing, father-approved bodyguard if you just stayed outside my room and only came to check in on me frequently…”
“I never do my job halfway,” he said firmly. “Unfortunately, with the information your father briefed me with, you never know what could lurk outside, and I am here to ensure your safety at all times. Still, I assure you I do not feel forced to watch. I could have offered to turn around while you changed. If I wanted to.”
“So you’re just being a pervert, then?” you teased.
“Says the one stripping in front of a stranger with no hesitation. Perhaps next time you should reconsider such actions.”
“You’re not a complete stranger,” you said, finally letting your short skirt fall to the floor. Innocently, you bent over to collect your dirty clothes and place them in the hamper for the maid to take care of. “You’re my bodyguard now, and a hot one at that.”
Jiyan closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to rid his mind of any indecent thoughts he may have. “Do you need to say bodyguard in such a way that makes it sound…salacious?”
Moving closer, you batted your lashes as you peered up at him. “That’s just how I normally say it.”
He sighed and muttered under his breath, “I’m here to protect you from any danger, but what about the danger you’ll pose to me?”
You laughed, not disagreeing with his words. Instead, you placed a gentle hand on his bicep and Jiyan straightened in surprise before reciprocating with his own palm on your exposed lower back.
“It’s a good thing my father will never have to know.”
#jiyan x reader#wuwa x reader#wuthering waves x reader#jiyan x you#jiyan x y/n#wuwa imagines#wuwa x you#wuthering waves x you#wuwa fanfic#jiyan imagines#jiyan
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He's My Man (Part 3)
Summary: Russell's returned and it appears that the reader's past employment problems are behind her. But when a shirtless Russell invites her into his home and their flirting rises to new levels, the reader will have to grapple with a new reality she doesn't know how to deal with. Russell Shaw might just be the first good guy after all...
Masterlist
Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader
Word Count: 3,500ish
Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, smidge of angst, fluff
A/N: That ending though 👀
__________
The sun was shining high when you woke, streams of light filtering in through the large windows. You hummed as you sat up, Colter typing away at his laptop outside. There was no sign of Russell though, a frown forming on your face.
He hadn’t left already, had he? He’d promised to tell you what happened back home.
You quickly changed in Colter’s bedroom into your joggers and AC/DC shirt, deciding to try Russell’s gifts out. The bra felt amazing, especially after wearing the same dirty one for a few days in a row. Even the lilac underwear was softer than you expected.
Outside you shrugged on one of Russell’s flannel’s, pouting when you saw his car was gone and yours was in it’s place.
“Morning,” said Colter, nodding towards where a cup of coffee laid waiting for you next to your chair.
“Hey,” you said, taking it without sitting. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”
“Not a problem. You haven’t been getting much lately.” You glanced around and noticed he was packed up for the most part, probably itching to get on the road.
“You have a new case?”
“Yeah. Oregon, not too far,” he said. He reached into his pocket, holding out your car keys. You wearily took them, Colter glancing over the top of your head. “I told him to stick around but he wanted to make sure it was ready for you.”
You raised an eyebrow, Colter shrugging.
“Apparently Russell has a place 45 minutes from here. Some cabin on a lake? I didn’t know he had a house. But uh, he hasn’t been there in awhile and he went on ahead to clean and stock up or something. He wants you to head up there so you can talk.”
“Oh. That’s…sweet.” You chugged back half your coffee, Colter eyeing you suspiciously. “What?”
“Nothing. Go have your talk.” You hummed, taking another sip. “You don’t owe him anything you know.”
“I know. We’re just friends.” Colter smirked. “You want to go down that road, Shaw? I can’t help but notice you and Reenie got that whole enemies to lovers vibe-”
“And that’s enough of that conversation,” he said, standing with a stretch. He reached into his pocket again, tossing you your phone. “Russell said it’s safe to carry again. Call if you ever need anything, Y/N.”
“Have I grown on you, Colter?” you teased. He rolled hie eyes as you handed him your empty mug.
“Maybe. I’m working on the having friends thing.”
“Well, you Shaw boys aren’t conventional but you’ve grown on me,” you said, opening your arms. “Come on. Let’s hug it out.”
“This is why I don’t do friends,” he half grumbled when he stepped into it, rubbing your back once more. “Hey and if you do think you want to try rewardist work, call me. We’ll talk, figure out a safe way for you to do this stuff.”
“What makes you think I won’t just go back home and do what I was before?” you asked.
“Did you really want to do that crap again?” You frowned, shaking your head. He stepped back, pushing you towards the streamer. “That’s what I thought. Go pack. I’m sure Russell will be looking for you soon.”
One Hour Later
After leaving Colter with a promise to stay in touch, you arrived in a small town on the edges of a lake. It took a few minutes but your GPS eventually found the right road to head down. You had to question it when it told you that you’d arrived at your destination. The cabin Russell supposedly owned look more like a very expensive rustic mini-mansion some rich people would vacation to on the weekends.
Still, you pulled into the driveway and found Russell’s beat up car there. Cautiously you exited your car and went up the steps of the front porch, ringing the doorbell twice. A large wood door whipped open and you’d gotten your wish.
There was Russell before you. Damp hair slicked back, a few water droplets trailing down his broad chest and disappearing into the waist band of his navy sweatpants. You could see his tattoos scattered across his arm, a few on his wrist and thumbs and good god, how long had you been ogling his body?
Your head snapped up, Russell cockily leaning with one arm up against the doorframe wearing a satisfied smirk.
“Oh, please. Look all you want, babe.” You huffed and stormed past him, fighting the urge to turn around and see what his ass looked like in this skinny little joggers he had on. Nope. You had more self-control than that.
“You wish,” you said, surprised at the mixture of modern and rustic touches inside. “So you squatting here, Shaw?”
“I wish,” he chuckled, walking past you into the kitchen area, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla luring you to follow after. “I picked this place up after I got out of the military for cheap. Been renovating it room by room for the past decade.”
“Marble countertops?” you asked, rattling your knuckles against the white and silver veined surface. Russell leaned against the island, his biceps flexing with the movement. “I thought you said you aren’t made of money.”
“Maybe I want you to like me for me and not my wallet,” he said, looking at you through his eyelashes. “You know how much that visit to that little boutique set me back?”
“Oh, I think you can afford it,” you said, smiling as you slipped behind him, ruffling his damp strands. “Next time you want to buy me lingerie, just be a big boy and say so.”
“Here I was being thoughtful with no ulterior motives,” he said, standing and putting a hand to his chest. He frowned, closing his eyes in feigned pain. “I’m hurt, Y/N.”
“You can be thoughtful and at the same time admit you’d like to see what your choices look like.” He dropped his hand smiled.
“I really did buy them without expecting anything. I was there and thought a girl like you deserves something nice in her fucked up life.”
“I know, Russell,” you said quietly, offering him a smile. “I honestly do appreciate it.”
He nodded before going to his fridge and taking out a pair of waters, setting one on the counter near you. “You’re welcome. And if you were ever so inclined to want to show off my fashion choices, I suppose I could suffer through.”
“You’d really take that hit for the team wouldn’t you,” you teased. He hummed, crossing his arms.
“It’s a heavy burden but one I’m willing to bear.” You rolled your eyes and laughed quietly, slipping away before you got any closer to a half-naked Russell.
You pretended to meander around the house, enjoying the openness compared to Colter’s airstreamer. A large fireplace sat in the corner and you could see through the glass doors to the back covered porch that another sat out there as well.
“I made up the guest room.” You spun around, Russell pointing down a hallway. “Fresh sheets. Towels. I thought maybe you’d want to take a real shower and relax before you decide your next move.”
“Next move, huh.” You crossed your arms, looking out the back windows as dark clouds rolled in over the lake. “That your subtle way of saying I can’t go back home?”
Russell’s smile fell, quickly replaced with a neutral non-chalence you saw right through. He padded across the hardwoods over to your side, watching the clouds with you.
“I meant what I said last night. You’re safe. No one, and I mean no one, will ever come after you again. Go freshen up and we’ll talk after. I promise.”
“Fine. But only because Colter’s shower sucks.” You knew Russell was holding back something but you’d let it slide for the moment. A hot, long shower sounded amazing.
Forty minutes later you exited the guest suite with freshly washed hair, smooth legs and clean clothes. Alright, maybe they were Russell’s clothes he’d laid out on the bed for you but you weren’t complaining.
“How was it?” he asked when you found him on the covered back porch, a hard rain coming down.
“I hate to sound like a girl but that was so much nicer than your brother’s tiny ass shower stall,” you said, enjoying the cool air on your flush skin. Russell refrained from saying anything about the black Stones shirt you had put on or the way you were drowning in his sweatpants. You ran your fingers through your hair, Russell watching you try to tame the mess it’d become. “You didn’t happen to pick up any hair ties or scrunchies when you clearly went to the store and got me stuff, did you?”
He reached into his pocket with a smile and a dark green scrunchie appeared on his wrist, your eyes wide. “Wait, really?”
“I’m smarter than I look,” he said. You nearly asked for it when you decided to turn around, presenting your back to him.
“Can you handle a messy bun?” you asked. A spark rang down your spine as he gathered up your hair on top of your head, gently pulling it together and securing it. You patted it when he finished, Russell taking a bow to an imaginary crowd. You put a hand on your hip, shaking your head. “Okay, how the hell do you know how to do that?”
“I could tell you but I’d have to kill you.” You rolled your eyes. “I learned it at special ops school.”
“Russ.” He laughed, taking a seat on the outdoor couch, arm over the back of it.
“I have a kid sister. I used to do her hair and shit when she was little.” You grinned, Russell holding up a finger.
“Don’t. Say-”
“Aw. What a good big brother you are,” you teased, sitting down next to him. Russell’s eyes glinted with a retort but he settled for letting his fingertips dance over your bare neck. Your breath hitched, Russell, cocking his head. “I can’t concentrate on what we need to talk about if you’re going to keep doing that.”
“Does that mean you don’t like it?” he asked, his body inviting you to tuck itself in right under that open arm. He grazed his fingers oh so lightly over your neck again and fuck, you wished he’d just grab hold and smash your lips to his already.
“You think just cause you’re sweet and thoughtful and hot and save a girl, you’ll win her over with your horrible flirting, just like that?” He leaned in close, so close you felt the heat radiating off his breath.
“I already won and she knows it. She just likes making me chase her.” You shivered when he thumbed over the back of your neck, a cocky smile on his face. “And she is a woman worth chasing so I will as long as she wants me to.”
You leaned in just when he pulled away and stood up, taking a seat in the chair opposite you with a big, stupid, cocky as fuck, smile on his face.
“Fucker,” you growled. Russell only smiled harder. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
“Oh, I pray I do,” he said, putting his hands behind his head, licking his lips. Your eye twitched, Russell chuckling deeply. “That’s my little queen of darkness I adore.”
“We will continue this conversation later,” you said, cutting him off. Russell nodded, taking the zip up from nearby and unfortunately tugging it on over his bare chest.
“So,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets, taking a deep breath. “You want to know what happened after you left.”
“That’d be nice, yes.” Russell pursed his lips, turning his head towards the downpour. “Russell. Come on.”
“I know you want details but I’m sorry, that’s not happening.” Your jaw dropped as he held up his hands. “You have had enough violence and death in your life. Now, I will answer your questions but I will use my discretion. You do not need…you don’t need that crap anymore. Please.”
Russell dropped his hand, leaning his elbows against his knees. When he looked up, his green eyes were somber and your heart did that flipping thing again.
“Are they all dead? The whole crew?” you asked quietly. He nodded. “That was like twenty five guys.”
“...Technically, they killed each other off. That’s why you didn��t hear about it in the news. Police are keeping it quiet.”
“How…you tricked them?” you asked. He nodded again. “You’re sure all of them-”
“Every last one. Sides were drawn. Elpine and some of his crew got involved too, killed in the crossfire. There’s no mafia left there. No one will ever look for you again if you decide to go back.”
“If?” you asked. Russell shrugged.
“You were forced to do a job you didn’t want. You don’t want to patch up scummy guys off the street. You get to live the life you want to now. You can do that back in Virginia…or you can do a clean slate. Start over somewhere new.”
“You mean here. Stay here with you,” you said. You stood up, going to the railing, a cold breeze hitting you.
“This is a safe place and you can take as long as you need to figure out what you want to do.” You felt him behind you, his hands settling on your arms. “I have enough. I don’t want to be a private contractor forever. I am more than happy to walk away and start fresh myself.”
“Russell, you are asking a lot.”
“No I’m not.” You frowned, closing your eyes. “Despite…I’m not asking you to pick me. I’m not that crazy. I know we’re still figuring each other out. I’m asking you to pick yourself. I’m asking you to trust now that I am not like those people you worked with. You never have to pick me if that’s what you want and there are no stings attached. Ever. Just don’t go back there. Start over somewhere where life will be kind to you.”
He rubbed your arms once before you felt him move away. You glanced back over your shoulder, Russell going to the fireplace and squatting down in front of it. A moment later, flames appeared and he was tossing a few logs from nearby inside.
“Russell.” He hummed, adjusting a large log with a sharp poker. He kept his back to you for a long beat, slowly rising and setting the poker aside. When he finally looked at you, his face was neutral, void of any signs of how he actually felt. You fidgeted, tugging down the hem of your shirt awkwardly. “Put aside the flirting. You and me…it’s not going to work out.”
“You’re sure about that, are you?” You scoffed, Russell holding up his hands.
You stormed over to him, stabbing a finger in his firm chest. “I am not whatever you think I am. I’m not a damsel looking for her white knight to come save her. I didn’t ask you to take care of my problem. You decided to do that, not me. I don’t owe you anything.”
He slowly blinked, staring down with the tiniest hint of a smirk.
“Why are you always fucking smiling?” you growled.
“Well if you’re going to be the grumpy then I got to be the sunshine.”
“We’re not a fucking trope! I-I don’t need you. I don’t need you to buy me things. Or do things for me. Or offer to let me stay in this beautiful house. I’ve spent my whole life alone. There is no such thing as a good guy. All you want is in my fucking pants so let’s just fuck and get this fucking thing over with so I can go the fuck home.”
Russell’s eyebrows raised. He nodded, crossing his arms. “I’m not fucking you.”
“What? That’s…you’ve been flirting the second we met!”
“Oh, we’re past the hookup stage. We do this, it’s cause we’re the real deal.”
“Insufferable,” you muttered, going inside, pacing back and forth in the family room. To your extreme annoyance, Russell didn’t follow you. He just sat out there next to his fireplace, watching the rain come down. He really wasn’t going to talk to you about this? He was going to ignore you?
You huffed, wandering throughout the house and finding it frustratingly gorgeous. While it certainly leaned masculine as did most rustic style homes single men lived it, it felt…cozy. There was a warmth to it, even in the large expanses, that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. It was built almost like a retreat, Russell’s safe place away from the world.
You sat down on the top set of the stairs, frowning with your head in your hands.
Was there such a thing as a good guy? No, Russell wanted you for sex. A quick fuck. Maybe a fuck buddy at most but that was it. Right? He was a single man in his forties. Ex-military and he still did contracted black ops work. He was a trained killer. A deadly weapon hidden under a boyish smile and pretty face. There was no way he was a good guy that actually wanted a normal life.
“Do you always talk to yourself?” Your head snapped up, Russell giving you an awkward little wave from the landing a few feet away. You groaned, wiping your face off when you felt the trickle of tears on your cheeks. Russell stepped up and stopped, sitting down a few steps below you, close enough to reach out and grab your hand.
“I should go,” you said. Russell simply held out his open palm, your own hands now held in your lap.
“Whether I’m good or bad, I’ll leave that up to somebody else to decide. I don’t live my life in the black and white. But I can tell you if I only wanted to screw you, I would never have invited you to my home.” You stared down at your lap, closing your eyes when his callused thumb wiped under your eye, pushing away a rogue tear. “You ain’t a damsel. You’re my queen of darkness, remember?”
Your lip twitched up briefly, Russell letting out some satisfied little sound.
“I meant what I said earlier. Stay. Rest. Figure out your next move on your own time. If me being here complicates that, I can duck out.”
“No.” You grasped his wrist, flicking open your eyes. His palm felt so hot to the touch, your heart skipping when he grazed your skin. “Stay here.”
“Okay then,” he said. He stood, leaning over and kissing your forehead. Then he was moving down the steps, whistling a peppy tune. “I’m going to make us some grilled cheese and tomato soup. Love me some grilled cheese.”
“Wait!” you called, following him down the stairs. Russell spun around at the bottom, smiling up at you. “Why…I…I-I don’t understand. You’re really just going to let me stay here? Without committing to anything?”
His face fell, brow furrowing. “You’re really starting to scare me, Y/N. When’s the last time there was someone decent in your life?”
“I’m not sure anymore,” you said quietly. “The idea of someone like you being so kind crosses a lot of wires in my head.”
“That’s why you keep freaking out when I’m not a dick and give you space.” You nodded, fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt again. He smiled, reaching up, offering his hand again. You let yours slip into it, Russell lacing your fingers together. “Well, I ain’t like other men, sweetheart. I promise you that.”
“Why me?” you asked, taking a step down, putting you at eye level with him. “I mean, why wouldn’t you want someone normal?”
“A normal girl sounds boring. Now queen of darkness? That sounds like a woman that’s badass enough to put up with me. Let’s stop freaking out, go make lunch, and let me try to help you what you want to do, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Perfect.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, pulling you along after him. “So. Has a man ever cooked for you?”
You shook your head, Russell frowning. You yelped when he picked you up and sat you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with his muscular arms on either side.
“Alright then Y/N Y/L/N. I’m about to make you the best goddamn lunch of your life.” Before he could move, you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, keeping him so, so close. Russell’s gaze turned heated, eyes darkening. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” you breathed out, Russell leaning in close.
“Don’t take me unless you plan on keeping me. Based on our previous conversation, we are not there.” Slowly, you unhooked your legs, Russell straightening, looking you up and down, eyes no less dark.
“Russ?” He stared at you, licking his lips.
“Fuck it.”
And then he slammed his lips to yours, stealing your breath away in the goddamn best kiss of your life.
_________
A/N: Part 4 coming soon!
#Russell Shaw#Russell Shaw x reader#russell shaw fanfiction#tracker fanfiction#Tracker#russell shaw x you#Russell Shaw series
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☆ bf werewolf chan ☆
☆ modern, non-idol au, established relationship. gn! reader except fem! in the nsfw part (specified with a warning)
☆ Warnings: regular werewolf shenanigans, idk pretty tame. lmk if I need to add something! not proofread, posting from the cafe where I just finished the smut portion :)
☆ Word count: ~1.5k
Super shy when he first tells you about the whole werewolf situation. He stumbles over his words and his face is red from embarrassment. But you give him your undivided attention, eyes full of patience and love. He confesses everything, his hand gripping your forearm and kneading the flesh for reassurance.
Finally, everything falls into place. All of his little quirks and mannerisms make sense now. The way he clings to you, how he insists you wear his jackets/hoodies, and so on. Oh, and the fact that he’s practically a human furnace. Cold hands and feet? Not with Chan glued to your side.
Knows that you're fully capable of holding your own, but sometimes he just can't help his jealousy or overprotectiveness. Can you blame him!! he just wants you to be safe and keep you all to himself. He never denies you of the things that bring you joy. He also buys you little keepsakes or trinkets that remind him of you. Holds your hand, waist shoulder, etc. in public. He has enough self awareness to know that extreme PDA is cringe, so he keeps it to a minimum unless something truly pisses him off and has to let them know you're taken.
Now that you think about it, his ‘stargazing’ trips always happened during a full moon. It annoys you that you didn’t catch on to it earlier. But what he does is far from stargazing. Him and the other pack members patrol the forest on the outskirts of the city for anything alarming or new. You had shown interest in these trips, but Chan promised he’d take you another day, one where it could be just you two, instead of having to deal with Chan’s buddies too. And he delivered. It was one of your favorite date activities now. It’s like the world slows down as the stars twinkle above the grassy meadow you’re laying on. Crickets chirp in the distance, and Chan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulders, providing you with a comfy headrest. There’s a blanket under you, too. Once in a while, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, eyes closed, smiling with content. He takes in your scent, nearly groaning at the delectable smell. His senses are still heightened more than the usual amount since the full moon had just passed a few days ago. You lay in the grass together until your eyelids grow heavy and tired, ready to whisk you away into a peaceful slumber. Chan pulls you up, helping you walk to the car and tucking you into the passenger seat. The rest is a blur, until you wake up covered by crisp linen sheets and soft huffs coming from the wolf boy next to you.
Big fan of the sense of smell. His heightened senses alert him immediately when you switch up your shampoo, lotion, or perfume. He gets so whiny if you use something different than usual. His fake annoyance doesn’t last long though, because in T-minus 5 minutes he’s bear-hugging you from behind, nose buried in the nape of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that’s all his to enjoy.
His favorite candle has notes of pine needles, dried wood & maybe hints of vanilla or citrus musk. The pine reminds him of the forest & calms his senses. If he closed his eyes and imagined hard enough, he could visualize himself in the forest, moss and dirt beneath his wolf paws, and his tail swishing behind him.
One day, you brought it home and lit it in the living room. He loved it so much, it was never more than three feet away from him. He thanked you so many times, hugged you and peppered kisses all over your face until you were giggling. You insisted it was no big deal, it was just a candle after all. But to him, it was more. It was the fact that you had seen it at the store, and bought it because it reminded you of him. He was elated that you cared so deeply about him.
The scent of the candle hits him like a wave when he walks out of his studio room and finds you curled up on the couch, the latest trending novel in hand. He thinks you look beautiful; especially because you’re wrapped in a huge black hoodie of his.
As an alpha, his protective instincts run deep. He’s very selfless in this way; his lover and pack members always come first.
Super clingy!! He thrives on skin contact. Not only is it a way to leave his scent on you, it’s a form of intimacy. Sift through his hair or scratch his head or behind his ears and he’s turning into jelly in your lap, limbs sprawled out across your figure, humming and grunting with content.
Your honor, he's just a big puppy with responsibilites!!
As his mate partner, he trusts you enough to let his guard down and listen to his concerns. He’s definitely the type to talk at 2 A.M about anything and everything that comes to mind. He doesn’t even care if you’re half asleep, he just has to let it out. Of course, being the good girlfriend you are, you’re laid on your side, head propped up by your elbow and giving him the attention he’s craving (But he’ll never say it). He’s also the most vulnerable at this time. Channie Second-guesses his leadership like his life depends on it. Do the members secretly hate him? What if he’s not working hard enough? Nonsense, you tell him. Your reassurance makes him feel better, like all hope is not lost. He mumbles thank you’s and praise into the nape of your neck as he wraps himself around your backside and falls asleep to the steady beating of your heart.
Always takes your opinion into consideration. Not comfortable somewhere? Chan’s already leading you by the hand and heading home. He’s so good at reading body language because of his senses.
Needs people to know you’re his. Yes, he knows it's a bit silly since regular humans can’t smell pheromones. But! On the off-chance you come across a werewolf, he needs you to be protected. Definitely makes sure you’re wearing something of his, it doesn’t necessarily have to be clothing. It can be a bracelet, necklace, earrings or keychain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
NSFW section! MDNI.
Firstly, his ruts. Kind of like a boy period, he has phases. First he’s super clingy and lovey, and then he ruins the mood with his own horniness. He has to convince himself that it’s okay!! It’s natural and you are more than willing to help. His ruts always bring out the more possessive and animalistic side of him. However, he’s always so gentle with aftercare, cleaning you up and feeding you until he’s ready to go again.
Soooo obsessed with the curves of your body. Big or small, doesn’t matter. He’s running his hands along your hips and up your waist until you’re squirming.
Marking!! Hickeys, bite marks, scratch marks. Both giving & receiving. He’s folding so quickly if you scratch his back, especially the hard-to-reach spots. Channie swears he’s never felt something better than the feeling of your legs wrapped around him and your hands gripping and scratching at his muscled back as you’re lost in pleasure. The next morning, he’s stood in front of the bathroom mirror admiring the pretty pink scratch marks cascading down the rippling muscles of his shoulders and back muscles. He tries his best to cook something edible and, to his surprise, it’s not half bad (again with the self doubt). He’s got an apron on but no shirt underneath, and boxers. He’s bringing you the plate as you’re in bed
Your pleasure is his pleasure. That being said, he can get off on your sounds alone. He can also spot fake moans, so don’t even try!! Also hates when you try to cover them up, like why are you denying him access to your sweet sounds?? Channie doesn’t care if you think they’re weird or embarrassing, what matters is that you feel good, and he’s providing that for you.
Chan needs foreplay. He needs to get in the mood, make sure he’s on his A game. God forbid he makes a mistake or hurts you!! He’d never live it down. Big fan of wet, messy kisses and sucking your tongue out of your mouth and into his. He’s leaving love bites along your lips and trailing them down your cheek and jaw, making a stop and your earlobe, and lapping at your neck. Doesn’t leave a trace of skin uncovered. Red and blue marks are littered over your body.
He slowly makes his way down to your core, until he’s languidly caressing the soft insides of your thighs with his hands. Doesn’t matter how hard he is, he’s eating you out and making love to your cunt with his face.
He loves controlling the pace of his thrusts until you’re a babbling mess and cock drunk. It fills him with pride to know you trust him enough to lose yourself completely, until the only reality you know is him and his cock.
“Mine”, “my love”, “babygirl” “my good girl” ... ohhh….
Good lord he goin crazy on that thang!!!!
read more here! -> my masterlist
#stray kids#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids drabbles#stray kids oneshot#skz x reader#skz#bang chan#christopher bang#bang chan x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#kpop smut#chRIZZtopher#werewolf#werewolf boyfriend
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how do i try to put this for people who get confused about aromantic lesbians and gays. not every aro lesbian is like this so disclosure: i am talking about my experience as an aro lesbian, but i feel like it's still important to discuss. lesbians can be aromantic and asexual, and even both- i am on the ace spectrum, so i can be considered an aroace lesbian. the thing is, i still experience lesbian and sapphic attraction even if it's not necessary romantic.
the way i try to phrase it is i have a deep attraction toward all dykes: butches, studs, bulldykes, femmes, lesboys, transbians, non binary dykes, intersex dykes, transmasc, ftm & trans male dykes, transfem dykes, genderqueer dykes, male dykes, bigender dykes, genderfluid dykes, two-spirit dykes. and sapphic identifying women, men & people. i'm dyke oriented. i want to be around other dykes of any identity- i want to live in domestic environmnets with other lesbians & dykes, taking care of one another, making sure we're alright.
i want to be there for other dykes in my community. i want to come visit to check on how they're doing when they're sick. i wanna be there to listen to the stone butches when they feel estranged. i want to give them groceries that i didn't end up liking but i know they would. i want to laugh and joke and goof off with other dykes. i want to be there to listen when they have gender or identity dysphoria. i wanna go bowling with the butches. i wanna workout at the gym with the bulls. i wanna go clothes shopping with the lesboys & boydykes to find them clothes that make them feel like themselves. i want to give other dykes a place to stay when they're going through hard times. i want to befriend with the weird "crazy" "ugly" dykes who are freaky. i want to be there when something scary happens so i can provide comfort and support. i want to help give resources and aid to other poor dykes who need it.
there are a lot of ways to be a dyke, lesbian, or sapphic. whatever you want to call yourself under this umbrella, there are a tons of ways to express it. i don't have to want to cuddle, kiss or hug other dykes in a romantic fashion. maybe i like surrounding myself with other dykes. maybe i just really prefer the company of other dykes. it's not that hard to wrap one's brain around once you break it down like that. there's a million other ways to be in someone else's company and spend time together. i assure you there is more to adult relationships than sex and romance. those are wonderful things for the people who enjoy them, but for those of us who are aromantic and/or asexual, there are many other ways to enjoy the company of other folks in a very queer fashion.
happy pride to every aromantic spectrum lesbian, dyke & sapphic person, you deserve to be seen and heard just as much as every other dyke. you matter
#lesbian#aromantic#lgbtqia#lgbtq#lgbt#queer#butch lesbian#butch#femme#femme lesbian#non binary lesbian#nonbinary lesbian#ftm lesbian#transmasc lesbian#aroace lesbian#arospec lesbian#arospectrum#arospec#aro spec#quoiromantic#cupioromantic#demiromantic#aspectrum#aspec#aspec lesbian#aspec dyke#aromantic dyke#aro dyke#dyke#sapphic
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I would love to see Derek with a super confident sunshine gf but May be she gets super shy and flustered when he compliments her or makes a dirty joke and just like the first time it happens and Derek is so taken aback by her shyness bc he's used to her being chatty and confident
“Hi, Dr. Reid.”
Derek knows it’s gonna be a good day when you come in already flirting.
“Hi,” Spencer says. “Want a bagel?”
“Thanks, handsome, but I already had breakfast.” Derek leans back in his chair to watch you, and you see his moving, turning your attention to him with an equally brilliant smile. “Hi, Agent Morgan.”
“You can call me Derek, baby.”
“No, I don’t think so,” you say lightly. You pull your pea coat tighter against yourself and give a breath. “Is it cold in here today, or is it just me?”
“There’s a problem with the radiators,” Spencer says. “They sent out an email this morning to dress warmly. It’ll be fixed by tomorrow, apparently.”
“Oh. I didn’t see. I don’t think I’m dressed for the cold,” you say, looking down at your short heels. “I would’ve worn sneakers like you, Spence.”
“I brought some extra socks?” Spencer says.
“Well, keep me a pair in case I need them?” you ask.
“Sweetheart, if it’s warming up you need, you come straight to me,” Derek says, his tone warm as his promise, “I’ll find a way to keep you comfortable, that’s on my life, don’t waste your time with anybody else.”
He doesn’t mean it to sound so heavily sexual, but he absolutely did mean for it to be an innuendo. Regardless, he isn’t expecting this —you look straight to Spencer like you want to check he’s heard it, and you fluster hard, fisting the strap of your purse where it’s snug over your shoulder, a small smile playing on your lips.
“Okay,” you say shyly, nodding, looking at the space to the left of Derek’s shoulder. “Won’t waste my time.”
He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve always been sweet like that, your sunny disposition drew him to you like a moth to a flame, and yet Derek can’t recall ever having made you fluster so quickly, and so visibly.
Derek suspects he’d find neck hot under his hand with a flush if he touched it. laughs loudly, pen in his hands wagging up and down as he fights the urge to say anything else and prolong your agony.
You give a soft laugh, flustered, embarrassed and breathless, tapping his ankle with your shoe. “That was a bit mean.”
“Sweetheart,” he says, sorry Spencer has to be here to see it, “I was kidding.”
“I know!” You also give Spencer a sorry look.
Spencer, while sometimes slow to pick up subtle social cues, thankfully gets the idea and stands up from his chair. Derek follows suit, though he doesn’t scarper for the kitchen.
“That caught me off guard,” you say, laughing again as he offers his arms to you.
“What happened?” He tugs you forward. You tuck your arms behind his neck to kiss his jaw, the morning hello.
“You said it like you were bossing me around!” you defend yourself.
“And you liked that?”
“Stop, stop,” you laugh. “I wasn’t expecting it. You never boss me around. You’re nicer than anybody gives you credit for.”
“You think so?” he asks, still teasing, but also vaguely smug. To get to hug you in the office, arms on your waist, prettiest face ever made, Derek can’t help himself. “I really will keep you warm. I’ll get you a heater.”
“You’re my heater.”
“I’m hot-blooded.”
You part ways with mutual reluctance. “You’re something, Derek.”
He enjoys making you laugh, and the shy tilt of your head as you’d recovered, but he’s much happier when you’re bundled up at your desk with a hot cup of coffee and his promised space heater plugged in at your feet, chatting across the way to him about what you want to do this weekend if he doesn’t get called away.
“Maybe we can buy a couple of DVD’s and you can warm me up all weekend,” you suggest, an attempt to pretend you aren’t bothered by his comment anymore, that it had been a momentary lapse in judgement.
Derek’s content to give you anything you ask for. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”
#derek morgan#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan imagine#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan fanfic#derek morgan oneshot#derek morgan scenario#derek morgan drabble#derek morgan fic#derek morgan fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK
— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk
— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol
— word count | 1.3k words
— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone
Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.
His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.
He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.
The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.
He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.
She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.
A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.
“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.
Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.
“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.
“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.
“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”
He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”
“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.
“Anything for my baby.”
“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.
“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”
“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”
Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.
“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”
“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.
The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.
“How was work today baby?”
“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.
Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"
“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.
He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."
His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"
“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."
“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”
His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.
“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”
"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.
He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.
"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”
“So fucking pretty” He whispered.
He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.
“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”
He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.
"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.
“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”
He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.
"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.
His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.
“Mm” She hummed.
Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"
He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”
“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered
He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"
His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.
“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”
He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.
"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"
He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."
He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”
He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.
"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.
Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.
Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.
“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.
He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."
He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.
“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.
He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."
He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.
“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.
He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."
He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."
“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”
He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."
He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”
“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”
He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.
“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”
“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.
#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic recs#jeon jungkook#jjk x reader#jimin and jungkook#jungkook fiction#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#bts jungkook#jeon jungkoooook#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk#jjk spoilers#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk smut#jeon jeongguk#jeon jungguk#jeon jk#bts jimin#bts#bts army#bts pjm#bts updates#bts x reader
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what’s yours is mine (5/?)
previous masterlist next
pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru
You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.
What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)
Oh. That’s bad. That’s really, really bad. You don’t need even Mama to tell you that, don’t need her to say anything more when all your nose can pick up on was the overwhelming stench of sour milk and rotting fruit.
Yet, you ask anyway. Just to confirm. Just to see, to test the waters. You know lying is bad, but you’re not exactly averse to actually doing it.
Maybe you just aren’t that good of a kid.
“Does that mean that it’s bad?”
She snaps out of it, eyes losing their glossed over fear and realization dawning on her face as she immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, a look of evident shock and restrained worry making you stare on.
You haven’t seen her so… Panicked. Not that you remember any moments that she had been, anyway.
(Do you not watch her enough?)
“Sorry… I’m sorry…” Her hand shifts up, trailing her face until she was holding her forehead and releasing the breath that she was holding, voice trembling on a note so deep-seated in terror that you just can’t ignore it. You see her shoulders slumping and her eyes darting towards the new carpet on the floor, to the creaky old table as her body shook with just that tiniest uncertainty all along— Before her pretty, shifty eyes finally landed on you.
You can hear a sigh of relief.
“I-It’s not bad at all. No. Not at all. It’s just what some people say.” It was like she was assuring the both of you with staggered sentences that struggled to complete themselves.
Like she was jumbling, voicing words together just as they form in her head. Like she was just saying whatever was racing through her head as you catch the glimmer of sweat on her skin.
You’re pretty sure it wasn’t that hot in here… You helped her adjust the heater just now.
“You shouldn’t listen to them. Never,” She has to steady her shaking words, steady her stumbling, clumsy way of speech as the tension in the space finally lifts when she scrunches her eyes close, able to breathe easy again as she whispers those words to you. “Never listen to anyone who speaks that way.”
You blink.
“Not even you, Mama?” A tilt of your head as you’ve long gotten off of your chair, Pokemon printed socks padding towards her until your fingers lightly tapping her lap as a way to signal that you wanted to get on.
You think she really needs a hug. It always helped when you were on the verge of tears yourself.
“No…” She finally lifts her head, her hands reaching down and patting your hair as your eyes follow the trembling pen she still clutched so desperately. “Not even me, darling.”
You can see her twitch, watch as that same pen she had been clasping onto all this time finally fall out of her hands and tumble onto the recently bought, recently cleaned— And much softer carpet.
You were waiting for that to happen.
So you chase after it, crouching down to be able to pick it up, before running back into her arms under her watchful gaze and crawling onto her lap the next.
“Thank you.” A kiss to your hair and a pat of your head as you wrap your arms around her waist, face falling into contentment at the feel of being able to bury your face into your Mama’s softness. You can feel the way her sweatshirt feels warm and fluffy against your cheek, a fuzziness in your chest making you yearn for more pats and to hear her soft voice lull you into a sweeter comfort.
Though, your curiosity never sates.
“So is it not nice to be an omega?” You’re not exactly careful, not exactly getting the memo that it wasn’t something you should pry too much on even after that reaction. “Mama, do you hate being one?”
You’re just a kid, after all.
“It’s fine to be one,” A stroke of your head as her tone finally returns to that soft, gentle coo that you liked hearing so much. Albeit just that tiniest bit shaky. “Omegas are rare. You won’t see many around.”
“So…” Your eyes blink up at her, a small bit of an excited smile playing on your face when you realise your Mama was— Is special. “You’re like finding a Gold Machinedramon in a pack of Digimon cards?”
Now she is the one blinking at you, eyebrows furrowing momentarily with brief, apparent confusion as her hand stopped stroking your hair.
“Yes… Exactly like that, sweetie.”
You knew it. Satoru showed off his to you recently, your eyes glimmering at the way he had held that precious card up to the shining sun as Suguru could only sigh in the background.
“But being an Omega isn’t all that good.” You can feel her lean a cheek against your head, tenderly hugging her arms around you tighter as she speaks. “And some people might… Only love someone else just because they are an Omega.” She clears her throat.
“Or an Alpha.”
“Mn…?” What does that even mean? How can you love someone simply based on just that? But to be fair, you’ve seen cartoon characters get married because they kissed a frog.
“You shouldn’t befriend people like that— Or let them love you, okay?”
Huh? You don’t exactly get it, but it does sound like she’s right.
You feel her chest vibrate with a chuckle. “You’ll know a lot more when you’re older.” You can feel her pinch your cheek as you pout. “You should be worrying about what you want to eat for dinner later.”
When you’re an adult, huh? You don’t really like being told that, not even by your pretty Mama. Yet her last sentence still tugs a little too hard on your thoughts, pulling you into a state of worry and reassurance.
Because Mama doesn’t need to be anything more than your Mama for you to love her.
“I’ll love you even if you’re not an Omega, Mama.” It’s real, and your promise to her as you take another breath in at her scent, still wafting with the remnant aftermath of soured milk, yet slowly calming into waves of the sweet honey you love.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Her fingers comb through your hair as you hum contentedly. Afternoons after school might become your second favourite part of the day after walking to school with Suguru in the morning.
“So which one should I be, Mama?” It’s your final, whispered question. You don’t know if she heard it, don’t know if it was even audible from how muffled you were as your face is pressed directly into her chest.
Her mindless, aimless petting of your head stops as you feel her lean back to be staring down at you. It’s hard to discern, hard to tell what emotion was in her eyes. Yet, it was evident, despite how small it was, or how insignificant it would be to another person.
Her eyes were definitely wet.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll love you no matter which one you end up being.”
(“Oh, and I want cheese hamburg for dinner today!”
A soft giggle.
“Alright.”)
You’re still stuck on it, though. Even as your eyes are narrowed at the ground and Suguru’s scarf is wrapped tight around your neck... All whilst you’re poking at the concrete walkway with a stick you picked up from the ground, as cold as it might be.
Ambiguity. Maybe you should make that your new enemy. Your sworn foe who you can vow to defeat in the final battle. It fits all the marks needed to be one too, right? A cool name, hard to spell… And the fact that you don’t quite like it for terrorizing you right now with the unfamiliar and the uncertain.
Even the cold spring air isn’t enough to make you forget. This season was ambiguous too, you think. The moments right after winter when the trees are still bare and there just wasn’t enough flowers blooming to call it spring just yet.
You can’t even call it winter either. There’s no snow, the air isn’t as cold, your breath can’t be seen— You don’t like ambiguity. Not one bit. So you hope that either Satoru or Suguru are already waiting at the—
“Gah, goddamn midget fuckin’ sized playgrou—“
That’s not a child. Or even anyone you recognize as a matter of fact. A stranger. A stranger had made his way into the playground that Satoru claimed nobody else was allowed into.
(Though to be fair, you did also trespass.)
He’s big. That’s probably the second thing you notice about him when your smaller feet are trotting up towards him. Maybe he’s too big for both your and the playground’s liking, that’s why his butt won’t fit comfortably on the seat.
You will speak for the things that don’t have the will to speak for themselves! That’s… What the magical girl said on that anime yesterday. You think.
“…it’s cause you’re too big, mister.” Mama would scold you for approaching a stranger like this. But you’re more intrigued by the fact someone had actually defied everything Satoru had told you about this sacred space, had dared to bully your beloved play area!
(With the power invested in you, you will…! Probably try to get him to stop kicking the slide with his dirty shoe.)
He broke all the rules. You’re sure most adults can read, right? Did he not see the big sign and really, really long letter of notice that you can’t quite read well yet?
Maybe he has trouble reading too. It is pretty hard.
You hope that’s not insulting to say, though. You’ll apologize later… But first you wanna know why this stranger’s all bruised and patched up with seemingly hundreds of bandaids as he grunts and scowls at inanimate playground infrastructure before locking his eyes onto you.
His hair is really dark.
“The hell? The fuck you doing in ‘ere—“
“You say a lot of bad words too.” You’re blinking up at him with a blank look as you continue, curiosity whirling through your head. Is this an adult too? “Your Mama would be sad if she heard you say that.”
Your eyes catch a glimpse of the small little tag on the leather bag so casually hanging off of his too big arm. You can’t exactly catch his name, but you recognize that it definitely… Probably was from this area? You’re not really sure. Nor have you walked anywhere past the playground, the market with your Mama… Or school.
But you do know that he looks pretty old. Mama did mention once that there’s a lot more older kids here than ones your age. He’s definitely one of those.
So… He’s an older kid that looks like an adult? How ambiguous, now that you think about it. An ambiguous ‘adult that’s not really an adult’ who looked like he doesn’t know how to react to you as his eyebrows furrow and his nose twitches, eyes glaring down at you before it suddenly clicks in his head at the way you had so fearlessly stepped inside.
“Tell ya what,” He doesn’t lean down, doesn’t squat to be at your height as he crosses the bruised skin of his slightly roughed up arms. He’s quite scary, if you think about it. “I won’t tell that Gojo kid you let me trespass if ya don’t tell anybody ‘bout me. Especially if you see some piss ugly punks who look like they got beaten up real bad ‘round here.”
You blink. Did you just get… Scammed? Is this really your fault? Were you at fault for not chasing him out? But to be fair he has a point. You don’t exactly know what Satoru would do if he did find out this very big man stepped more than ‘one of his dirty toes!’ into his playground.
And honestly? You don’t think neither you nor Suguru would be able to talk your stubborn friend out of demanding capital punishment for this stranger. You would definitely need more than the 13 cookies you watched him gobble up only a couple days ago.
Take the deal. It’s for the greater good, you think. Whatever that means. Heroes say it all the time, no?
“Okay.”
(You’re a hero now.)
And that’s how you ended up sitting on the swing seat next to him. Don’t get yourself wrong, he’s definitely scary, definitely looks like he could throw you around with one pinky finger.
And kind of reminds you of those delinquent characters you saw in the movie at Suguru’s house when his Papa had left it on accidentally.
Maybe you can ask if he’s a villain? Or if he’s a gangster. Would he have cool tattoos like in that movie? Maybe he’s got a metal bat stored away in that old bag of his.
“Mister, are you an Omega?” Yet, that’s all that you end of asking, all that passes your thoughts once more. The talk of these types of things within your home, within your school, on newspapers and on TV… It’s the best question that would best cure you of the knowledge itch.
Cause older kids like him should know more than you, right?
“This what kids talk ‘bout these days?” He sounds… So monotonously unfazed. “Don’tcha got better things to rattle on about?”
Honestly? You do. But your horoscope said that today was a day that you shouldn’t leave things unanswered, for they could bring about ‘unfortunate circuses’ or something like that.
So you ask anyway. You don’t know if you’ll really like a circus. Especially if it’s a bad one.
“No.” Your sandals kick up the sand below you, outsole making trenches on ground. “Don’t you have better things to do than get injured?”
Silence. A crow caws in the background as he narrows his eyes at you.
“Annoying brat, ain’t cha?” A huff out his nose as his words become as dry as the air, his head leaning back to look up at the darkening sky. Maybe it’s just you, but you also don’t like how the orange glow disappears all too quickly when you’re too wrapped up in your head to appreciate it.
At least it makes the shadow you casted on the ground longer and longer— Yet not quite as big compared to his.
“I’m an Alpha.”
Woahhhh. You don’t think you know any other Alphas past Geto-mama. Maybe that’s why he was so big. Geto-mama was definitely really tall. Though, you don’t think you’ve ever even seen an Alpha go to a playground for children.
“Is it fun?” It sure doesn’t look like it for him. You thought he’d be happy to be what was seemingly the strongest willed one. The one Mama talked about first.
(He could definitely find a Gold Machinedramon way faster than you, right?)
“Heh. Ain’t no way, kid.” The scar on his lip looks kind of cool, you think. He leans back, those scruffy bangs of his finally moving out of the way enough for you to be able to catch the shimmering green of his eyes.
He really did have a big shadow.
“Alphas are some of the biggest losers out there.” The way he speaks has too much spite, as if he sounded defeated as you watch his hand pat his thigh as if in search of something— All for naught.
“Ah, fuck. I’m out.”
A softer swear under his breath that you would have caught had it not been for how distraught you were at his words.
“But when I get bigger—“
“You won’t like most of ‘em when ya get bigger either, kid. They’re assholes. Every single last one of them rat bastards.”
Oh.
That’s quite the revelation. But at the same time, you feel something akin to a lump in your chest, an unsteadiness to your heart. You know it’s not tears that were threatening to spill, know it’s not panic-stricken fear that will leave you shaking like a leaf. In fact, you recognize it the best nowadays.
Uncertainty. A knowing doubt. Ambiguity. Your worst enemy.
“That’s not true, mister.” Your feet lift off the ground as you start to lightly swing again. “Alphas can be nice people too.”
You would know. Geto-mama was different, was not anything like he had just described. You like her— Love her, actually. She’s been nothing but good to you in the few years you’ve met her.
A kind lady. Your Mama says it’s hard to get Geto-mama to stop talking sometimes, though.
(You should ask for her astrology sign later. Just in case the news says she’s gonna have a bad day. It’s good to have someone warn you if they’re unlucky that day.)
“That so, huh?” He’s looking at you now, letting his lips stretch out into another smug grin with an uncharacteristic softness in his eye. “Then I hope to see how that shitty mindset of yours holds up when ya get older, kid.”
He’s kinda cool. He would probably make a really good drawing for someone. But—
“You said another bad word.”
“…you been keepin’ track?”
“Mhm.”
The sunlight finally fades when he sighs, the heels of his beaten loafers digging into the sand below as the metal of the chains squeak, finally free of his added weight. He stretches, arms behind his head as he yawns at the fading orange of the night.
“Remember our deal, kid.” His back faces you, only to turn his head only slightly, letting you see the scarred lip that you admired so much upon a grin. "And don't stay out too late out 'ere."
He wasn’t a bad Alpha either, you decide.
——
“Tch! That old man down the street’s a scammer!” Gojo Satoru is pouting, chubby cheeks puffed up with narrowed eyes and stained lips as he pokes at the supposed, promised ‘strawberry’ flavoured ice. “There’s no difference in this one either!”
“He only made them different colours. The melon one tastes the same too.” Geto Suguru is pulling away once he’s had a bite of all three, a hand dabbing away at the remnant sweetness on his lips.
“Was he too lazy to make more because it’s still cold? Mmm... Maybe we should've asked Kimiko-san to bring your shaved ice machine instead."
“No way! She would’ve said that I couldn’t eat it with any syruppppp!”
“That’s cause y’er meant to be on a sweets ban, Satoru. Didya manage to even get it lifted even a little bit?”
“Hmph!”
“So you didn’t.”
“Hmph!”
And there you were, sat upon the playground’s deck, hidden from the sunlight and protected by the shade as you poked at the supposed ‘blue hawaii’ flavoured shaved ice treat.
It doesn’t really taste ‘blue’ or very ‘hawaii’. Not that you know what either of those taste like. Though, you’re not quite bothered by the fact that it tastes oddly similar to Suguru’s green coloured ‘melon’ one as Satoru pokes your mouth with a spoonful of his own ‘strawberry’.
“Heyyyyyyyy! Pay attention to us! Ya can’t daze off when we’re discussing important stuff!”
You’re still bothered by it. Even as your mouth parts to allow the spoon to be shoved not so gently into your mouth, even as you chew in thought as a head lays upon your shoulder and Suguru wiping your mouth with a handkerchief already pretty stained in blue, green and red.
“I’ll love you no matter which one you end up being.”
Ah, your old enemy. Ambiguity. You find it quite troublesome to be you right now, your eyes closed in focused thought and a hand on your chin to sell the look. You can’t just suddenly be okay with any one of them just because Mama said she didn’t have a preference.
It’s not because you think one is superior to another, not because you dislike all of them. Or worse; prefer one over another.
You just need to at least pick one to work towards being.
"Which one would you guys wanna be?" It’s sudden, very out of topic from the Digimon debate your friends were having as they practically hung off of you, tossing your hair about or lying on your shoulder… But you think they understand regardless. They always did, no matter how strange or irrelevant the situation may be.
(You’re starting to think they’re mind readers.)
“…is this because of what Tachibana said?” Ah. You’ve been seen through in a blink of an eye. Were you that obvious? Or was it just because Suguru had always been the type to notice this type of thing?
“You shouldn’t care too much about what someone like him says, (name)-chan.”
Satoru pouts beside you, a hand lightly smacking your shoulder as retribution as you feel him grab your face, pinching lightly at your cheeks as you finally look at him.
“Why’re ya even thinkin’ about other kids?” He squeezes your face for good measure. “We’re here, aren’t we?”
You blink, feeling mushed and very much squished. “Sorry.” You should’ve known they wouldn’t have liked this type of thing either. Maybe you should’ve read the air better.
“There ya go apologizin’ and not telling us what you think again.” A cross of fingers and a sudden flick to your forehead as you recoil back slightly, the only support being Suguru’s hands pushing you back up as your hands go up to be rubbing your reddening cheeks instead. “Don’tcha get tired?”
It’s an honest question on his part, his snappy way of talking and his huffy mumbling about how you need to stop that annoying habit of yours.
But you’re trying, you really are.
“I’ll give ya ice later if it still hurts.” That’s how he is. Geto Suguru who was kind and soft and always tried to soften the blows Satoru lands upon you.
Though, your black haired friend still tuts at him. “You shouldn’t hit her, Satoru.” He stops to really think about it for a moment, slow realisation in his words. “Save ‘em for others who deserve it.”
Their conversation is lost on you once again, your eyes only the slightest bit teary when you open them, blinking up at the both of them before you’re practically smooshed once again by the way they’ve decided to close their faces in on you, their own cheeks pressed against each other from how closely squished all three of you were.
“You cryin’?”
“Did Satoru squeeze you too hard?” Suguru’s brows are scrunched in worry, knitted together in anxiousness as he elbows the white-haired counterpart.
“O-Oi! I didn’t use that much strength—!”
It’s nice to have people worry about you, you think. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside as you feel them tap lightly against your face, pressing the cups of the chilly shaved ice against your cheeks as you simply… Slump forward and let it happen.
Friends are nice to have.
——
You’re finally 7 when you’re using a leg to push open the creaky metal gate, dragging a rather large basket of food behind you and grunting with each step. Mama did pack an uncharacteristically huge amount of food for all of you upon your mention of the mini picnic at the playground.
(But to be fair, you think all three of you do eat quite a bit combined.)
You’re excited. Not just for the food, but for how fun it would be, especially in spring amongst the pretty flowers that just started to bloom. A slight breeze passes by you, flowers blooming and scattering onto the crown of your head as petals fluttered down from the bright pink of cherry blossom blooms.
It’s pretty. So pretty. They blot and cover the plainness of the grey concrete beneath you, creating a path of blushing rosiness with every step you took.
You noticed that even the sunlight was gentle as it spots down from in between those bunched up leaves, so careful as they shine onto the ground. It makes your trek all the more delightful as you hum the tune to the morning news channel.
Ito Saya was quite the pretty news anchor… Even if she only mostly did the weather reports.
Though, you’re hoping that you won’t be too late, considering the fact that you’re the one lugging the rather large basket of treats there. Ah, whatever.
You just hope you don’t miss anything important.
And your eyes don’t deceive you when you witness the chill of spring become tangible in the form of a cute peck to the sakura petal stuck upon the winter child’s cheek.
You watch how the petals fall, how you think you’re forgetting to breathe properly as it hitches in your throat. Were you even blinking anymore? Your feet seemed rooted to the dirt beneath to admire them all the more.
“Is that enough yet?” Geto Suguru is grimacing at his friend, blushing just as pink as the flowers that had flittered onto his hair, petals dancing as they descend onto the hastily smoothed out picnic blanket.
“Mmm…” He had his eyes closed, arms crossed across his chest as the smugness doesn’t cease to stop. “One more would do!”
“Aren’t you being too greedy now?!”
“You’re the one who hit me! So ya have to kiss my boo boos!”
Ah. The pretty moment is ruined, so you can’t help but giggle as you watch from afar. Your friends are the sweetest.
“(nameeeeeee)!” Your snowy-haired Satoru is immediately on his feet, his sandals long kicked off to the side as he waves an arm at you. “Suguru kicked my face!!!!!”
It comes out as a whine, a complaint. Even if he had made the poor boy make up to him and console his pain.
“I didn’t even kick that hard!”
“Ya you did! Gimme all your cake if you really wanna say sorry!”
Your friends are truly the sweetest, you think. When Suguru is the first one dragging Satoru over to help you with your basket, when you’re watching as the blue-eyed boy pouts about the sting on his face, and even when you’re giving Suguru his hug in greeting first, letting him smile into your shoulder as you hold him tight.
“(nameeeeee)! Gimme mine next!”
Your friends are truly sweet— Especially when you mimic the shy kiss Suguru had given to the apple-cheeked boy that had shied away the moment you smiled so brightly at him.
You couldn’t ask for more.
“I’d wanna be a beta with you, you know?” Suguru’s talking through a mouthful of sandwich, cheeks stuffed to the capacity as he tries to push even more in.
Manners are mostly forgotten when not in the vicinity of an adult. And even more so if it was to answer a question you had asked a week ago.
“But… I think Beta would be good, right? It’s in between and has the most balance.” Balance in the sense that— You haven’t heard anything negative about it yet.
“Maybe I should settle on that?”
“Ya both think too little!” There’s a shift, bare feet stepping against the plush softness of the rather well made blanket when Gojo Satoru stand up tall on his own two feet, the shine of his eyes behind fluttering white lashes making you stare a little too hard.
He’s so cute.
“I’m gonna be an Alpha and make both of you my servants!” He has a triumphant huff to his tone, an all too confident posture in his stance as he points a demanding finger at the both of you.
“He’s got some imagination.”
“Mama says it’s cute when we act like babies.”
“Hey! Are ya both listenin’ to me?!”
But their replies have you stopping to think for a bit. How would you know what you would end up as anyway? Is there a way to tell? Would astrology have anything to do with it?
Maybe you need to watch the news a bit more.
“Huh? (name)-chan. It’s smell, isn’t it? That's how you tell.” Suguru’s tilting his head to the side as he watches your eyes blink back into focus, waving a hand in front of your face in efforts to bring you back.
They’re really good at reading minds.
“No, ya dummy. Y’er talkin’ out loud.”
It’s better to believe in magic. The mystical is definitely more fun, and you definitely wanna be a fairy someday. It’s gonna be—
“Satoru.” Your nose twitches when he leans over you to reach for the cream puffs he had Kimiko-san prepare. “You smell like sunlight.”
Maybe different people had different smells.
“Is there anything?” You’re sat on your knees with your arms stretched out to the sides in front of them, barely audible but just enough so for the wind to whisper your voice into their ears, watching as Suguru’s bangs sway with the branches of that familiar tree you were all sat under.
"Can't really make out anything on you, actually." Suguru's face is pressed into your hair from behind, his nose taking decisive whiffs to help answer your question. "All I can smell is that shampoo you and your mama use... Satoru, any luck?"
“Mmm…” His nose is nudging against the side of your neck, taking a deep whiff of the skin before he pulls back. “S’ not that there’s anything actually—“ He dives in for another, his soft face against your own as you hold his shoulder to steady him.
You can feel how the strands of Suguru's hair was brushing against your nape, his palm now resting on your shoulder as his free hand brushes through your hair.
You see crystal blue peek up at you, before leaning back to hold his chin to scrutinize a bit more.
“Hmm… Water, maybe?” His eyes are closed in stark thought as white hair is caressed by another swirl of spring wind. “Can’t really get anything past that, though.”
Oh. You had no smell then. Nothing.
"It's okay. It's enough that you smell nice to us."
You hear him— Suguru say that pretty often, actually. Words that keep affirming you that it’s enough because it’s them, that you don’t need to go any further than that.
“Isn’t it enough that it’s for us?” He taps against the neatly wrapped plastic that held the cookies that Mama had helped you to bake in advance in attempts to make new friends within the classroom.
“Why’d you need it for the other kids?”
You want to have people who like you at the very least, even if you can’t make friends with them. That’s why.
“Hmm… Don’t you think Satoru would be mad?”
Maybe Geto Suguru was just that type of friend. Almost as clingy as your Satoru— Yet not quite letting you see what he truly was thinking. He’s always been quite polite; with you and the others around him.
Yet, you can’t help but feel like there’s something else behind his words, his actions— And his demeanour. You just can’t quite place an ascertain finger on it even when he smiles at you and blows a petal off of your hair.
So gentle. So pretty. He kind of reminds you of your Mama, if you think about it.
"Okay.”
And he looks content with your reply, his arms hugging around you briefly before they pulled away.
He’s really warm.
“Well? Ya have your answers now?” Satoru’s tilting his head at you before he drinks directly from the bottle of juice Suguru had brought, downing the apple juice and completely disregarding the cups Kimiko-san had so graciously prepared.
Maybe? Probably. You don’t really know for sure when you’re curling your fingers into a fist and back into a splayed hand.
It’s enough for now.
previous masterlist next
#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#satosugu x reader
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@polin-erospsyche said these tags i wrote shouldn't be tags, and i trust her with my possible-inpending embarrassment, apparently, so, here you go:
i adore this look so much. the way colin looks at pen here will never not be used as a defence against people saying polin are 'rushed', or 'have no chemistry', or whatever it is they're saying now. and here's my little take on it.
-> you know how they say, you don't know what you have until it's gone. in this case, colin didn't realise how much he needed pen and her letters until they were gone....
—
this lonely, weary traveller has been away for months. we know his family doesn't often reply to his letters. and although he jokes about it, and they do too, we can all agree that he's upset by this, yes?
so in this moment, he turns around and sees the only person who has been corresponding with him throughout his journeys. he sees the woman who not only responds to every letter he sends but also who does so with genuine interest and fondness. the person who has made him feel like he has had a friend there with him on his travels. i personally believe he was alone for most, if not, nearly all of the time he was away. though, even if he did have some companionship; penelope was his constant for that time.
she has probably been keeping him entertained with stories, making sure he knows his family is okay, and asking him about every detail of his adventures. and in my opinion, i believe she barely ever mentioned herself in these letters. she has really been there with him every step of the way via her open ears (nay eyes) and written words.
and so finally, he sees her there, and i don't think he knows what to do with himself.
does he want to just say hello? probably not - look at his face! does he want to sit down with her right away and ramble on about things he has yet to say? or maybe just tell the same stories - because he knows she will listen, and she will understand, and she will enjoy hearing about them. maybe. does he want to hug her and say thank you? possibly.
my point is that i think he doesn't know what to do. it's such a short look that he doesn't have time to decide. and he's suspended in those moments when he sees her looking back at him with a huge smile on her face. he's overwhelmed.
i may be wrong in this part, but i also think he's a little surprised. he knows pen hangs out with his family a lot, but i don't think he expected her to be there right at that very moment he walked in the door. the man is baffled, to me. and in love.. despite not knowing it yet, hehe.
and it leads me to the sudden and heartbreaking point of 3.01. when colin has finished greeting his family, he turns to look at the featherington house because he notices right away that pen is not there like last time. and now it feels wrong that she isn't.
and if you watch that moment, the exact part when he turns back to his family again, there is something in the way his hands swing loosely at his sides, like a defeated sigh from his body - if you know what i'm trying to say.
his body language, to me, just screams disheartened... dispirited, or whatever other fancy word you'd see fit to use. but it's so subtle...
and then later we find out that penelope didn't respond to any of his letters this time. and i can only imagine how confused he is. because, honestly, he probably forgot about the horrible courting comment he made, and even if he remembered, he doesn't know then that pen heard it. so in his mind he is wondering where on earth his friend is. the possibility that she could be unwell has probably also crossed his mind. he is just - desperate, most likely - at this point to find out what's going on.
the thought of him, on his travels, everyday wondering why there still hasn't been a single letter signed 'penelope' absolutely breaks my heart.
and while i was about to end this post, i just thought about colin actually writing his own letters, and how he might've changed his tone along the way... do you think they ever included such words as something like: "i eagerly await your response." / "i hope to hear from you sometime soon." / "are you well, pen?"
or even this soul destroying, lump in the throat inducing quote that my mind has just come up with: "i've begun to think that there's a possibility you have not received my recent letters. for several weeks i have not heard back. not even a single tidbit about your mama, or my bothersome siblings. i must admit, my travels have not been as such fun or as fascinating as when i have my good friend to tell them to. i hope my writing finds you soon enough, or that yours finds me."
......
anyway, i don't write metas.. or i do and i never post them because i feel stupid and rambly and i'm never sure if it makes sense, but, i'm being a little brave here, haha. (thank you, luwen)
#i am... unsure of this#i'm probably gonna delete it 😫😬#polin meta#polin spoilers#polin#bridgerton 2x02#colin x penelope
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