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nouearth · 9 months

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blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

gif credits to: fukutomichi!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

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alessiasfreckles · 3 months

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not good, not bad, just different (leah williamson x ADHD!reader)

disclaimer: this is based off of my personal experience of ADHD. this is in no way saying that this is what adhd looks like for everyone!!

a/n: based on this request! i hope you like it, i'm sorry it's so all over the place but that also felt pretty thematic so... hopefully it's okay. i'm planning on doing 1-2 more parts to this! the next part will be about the reader getting diagnosed and coming to terms with their diagnosis + telling the other lionesses about it. also if you're interested in more WLW football based fiction involving ADHD, read Cleat Cute by Meryl Wilsner!

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

You had always felt… different. Not in a ‘not like other girls’ kind of way, more like an ‘I don’t understand what’s wrong with me’ kind of way. Things just seemed to be so much harder for you than for everybody else.

As a teenager, you were constantly getting told off by your parents for your messy room and bad grades. You were a smart kid, they said, so why couldn’t you just do your homework and study for tests like everyone else?

You would ask yourself the same thing. Forcing yourself to sit at your desk, staring at your maths textbook, desperately begging your brain to just cooperate, just this once, not understanding why it was so hard to just do the work.

When your parents would come into your room you would instantly feel a flash of white-hot shame at the state of it. Clothes everywhere, rubbish you’d forgotten about in corners, plates, cups, half empty water bottles. You couldn’t help it, it was like once something was out of your line of sight, you just forgot it existed, like the plate of half-eaten food that you’d put next to the bed at some point and then had absent-mindedly pushed under the bed to get it out of your way. When you found it weeks - okay, months - later, you were so embarrassed by the mould that you secretly threw it away rather than take it downstairs to the kitchen, where anyone could see it.

You would forget things you knew you should remember, things that anyone else would have remembered, like weekly tutoring sessions that your parents paid for (something they reminded you of when you forgot, yet again). You felt so stupid. It was at the same time, every Wednesday after school, so why couldn’t you remember?

Or doctor’s appointments, dentist appointments, any kind of appointment really. You would write it into your calendar, set yourself a reminder on the day, set yourself another reminder 30 minutes before, and all that would happen is that you would swipe away the reminder thinking ‘oh, yeah’, and then you’d continue doing whatever you were doing before. It was only when you’d hear the phone ring that you’d instantly know it was about you, about the appointment you’d missed, or maybe it was from school, or maybe something else you’d just completely forgotten about.

And all of that wasn’t even taking your issues with human interaction into account. You’d always struggled to make friends, especially as a girl who liked football. When you hit 9 or 10, the other girls in your class started to grow more interested in talking about boys, or music, or tv. You couldn’t understand what they found so interesting, that they’d rather spend breaks just sitting around chatting to each other when they could be running around playing football, or some other game, or anything more exciting.

As you got a little older, though, you realised that it was clearly a ‘you’ problem. People at your secondary school were nice, for the most part, but you still struggled to make friends. When you’d accidentally interrupt someone, or start talking too much and too loudly in excitement, or fidget a little too noisily, people would give you looks and whisper to each other about how weird you were. You learned to sit on your hands to stop yourself from clicking a pen or tapping your fingers, to keep quiet to avoid saying the wrong thing or saying it the wrong way.

Football was a good escape. It was fast-paced enough that you didn’t have time to think about other things, and there was enough going on that your brain wasn’t looking for external stimulation. You’d always been observant, noticing things most people wouldn’t notice, and you used it to your advantage. You were quick with the ball and you seemed to always know where everyone was around you. You were so good, in fact, that you made the England U17 squad - something you’d hoped would make you seem a little cooler at school, but just added to your ‘weirdness’.

That time was far behind you now, though. Now you were in your twenties and not only played football professionally, having joined Arsenal when you were 19, but also played for the England senior squad, one of the Lionesses.

That’s not to say that you didn’t still struggle with things. Your apartment was a mess, you lost things constantly, you would still interrupt people and fidget. You had friends though, at least. If anything, people knew what you were like and they loved you for it. It became a running joke on match days that you would inevitably lose your shoes, or your shin pads, or your phone, or that you’d need to borrow a hair bobble from someone. Everything would always show up right as you started to panic, though. Your shoes would be in the bathroom, because you’d been holding them when you went in to go to the toilet before the game like you always did. Your shin pads would be in the pockets of your jacket, one on each side, so you wouldn’t lose them.

“Looking for this?” Leah would ask, pulling your phone out of her pocket and smiling at the look of relief on your face.

“Yes! Where was it?”

“On the bus. You left it on your seat,” she explained.

“Huh. That doesn’t sound like me,” you joked.

“Nah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you,” she would say with a wink.

So, yeah. Maybe you had a reputation as the forgetful one, and the messy one, and the chaotic one, and the distracted one. But that was just who you were, right?

---------

Okay, you knew you were here for a reason. There must have been something you were going to get from the prep room, that’s literally the only reason you were there. You mentally went through everything you needed; shoes, on your feet, jacket, wearing it, headphones, in your pocket, water bottle - fuck, that was it! Your bottle!

You grabbed it from the bench where you’d left it and headed back out. On the way you needed to pee, so you quickly went to the bathroom, washed your hands, and went back to the training pitch.

“Did you get your water bottle?” Leah asked, a quizzical look on her face as she looked at your empty hands.

“Fuck,” you sighed. “I had it. Where the fuckety fuck did I put it?”

“Y/n, come on! Training started 5 minutes ago!” one of the trainers called over. You felt a white hot flash of shame in your belly, heat rising to your face.

“Do you want me to help you look for it?” Leah asked.

You shook your head, looking down. “No, it’s fine,” you muttered. “Let’s just start training.”

After training, Kyra came over to you in the changing room.

“Here,” she said, holding out your bottle. “I found it in the toilets, on the sink.”

---------

After that you made a list. You stuck it to the inside of your cubby, and every day you would look through it, double checking everything before you left the room. It helped for a while, until you started seeing the list as part of the background and your brain started ignoring it.

When you went to international camp, it got worse. You were away from your routine, in an unfamiliar environment. At least the people you were with was pretty much the same as always. As nice as it was to see everyone though, it was draining, too.

“Y/n? What do you want?” Leah asked. You were on a rare night out, the whole team at a restaurant by the beach together.

“Huh?” you asked, frowning. At a table nearby, people were singing ‘Happy Birthday’, cheering, clapping. On the other side of you, someone was having a conversation - it sounded like they were on a first date, but that didn’t make sense, you were in Spain, they sounded English, why would they be on a first date here?

“What do you want to order?” Leah asked again, prompting you. The waitress stood there, looking at you expectantly, notepad in her hand. A light flickered somewhere in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, um, I,” you stuttered, looking at the huge menu in front of you. The people on the date were talking about what kind of things they liked to do on holiday, she liked to go sightseeing, he just wanted to relax, at another table a baby started crying, the ice in people’s glasses was clinking, knives and forks were scraping against plates, that song you’d had stuck in your head for days now was still playing on a loop in the back of your head, your leg was bouncing uncontrollably under the table, someone’s nails were tapping against their phone, the man was telling the woman that the whole point of holidays is to relax-

Leah’s hand on your knee made you look up from where you’d zoned out looking at the menu. The waitress was gone. Leah was looking at you with a concerned expression, her hand steady on your knee.

“Do you want to go outside, get some fresh air?” she asked calmly.

You nodded wordlessly.

With a hand on your arm she guided you outside the restaurant, taking you to a nearby bench to sit down. The breeze cooled the sweat on the back of your neck, making you shiver.

“Are you cold?” Leah asked, reaching for her jacket.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you said, breathing in deeply. You knew you should just go back inside, suck it up, smile at Leah and say everything was okay, but you just couldn’t yet. You just needed a few more minutes.

You sat there in silence for a minute. It wasn’t a bad silence, but you could tell Leah was giving you space to talk whenever you felt ready. You didn’t want to talk about what had just happened though, you felt too embarrassed about getting overwhelmed like that. Everyone else was fine, it was just you who couldn’t handle it.

“The people at the table next to us, I think they were on a first date,” you said instead, looking at your hands.

“Yeah?” Leah laughed.

“Yeah. But, like, why would they be on a first date here? They sounded English, why are they on a first date at a restaurant in Spain?” you asked.

“Huh, I dunno,” Leah mused. “Maybe they’re both on holiday and happened to meet and decided to go on a date?”

“Maybe,” you nodded. After a few seconds of quiet, you sighed. “I’m sorry about all that. I just got… there was just a lot going on.”

Leah squeezed your knee. “It’s okay. It was busy in there, wasn’t it?”

You nodded again. “Yeah. My brain just couldn’t handle it all. All the noises, and the menu- oh, fuck, I didn’t order anything!”

“It’s okay,” Leah chuckled. “I ordered for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. A sandwich and chips. If you don’t want it I’m sure someone else will eat it,” she shrugged.

“I didn’t even notice you ordering for me,” you frowned. “I feel like something’s wrong with me.”

“Wrong with you? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I- I feel like something is wrong with my brain,” you tried to explain, not knowing how to put it into words.

Leah frowned.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. “Let’s go back inside. Everyone is probably wondering where we are.”

“Wait, y/n, we can stay outside for a little bit longer,” Leah said.

“No, no,” you stood up quickly, not meeting her eyes. “Let’s go. I’m okay, I promise.”

———

It didn’t take long for Leah to corner you the next day, determined to talk to you..

“You seem distracted,” Leah said, sitting down next to you on the bench. “More distracted than usual, I mean.”

“Ha, yeah,” you said. “It’s kind of ironic, actually. I’m distracted because I’m distracted.”

“Right…” she said, frowning. “You’re distracted because you’re thinking about why you’re distracted?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, trying to think of how to word it. “We all know I get distracted easily, right?”

The blonde nodded. “Yeah, you’re like a magpie or something. You see something shiny, you gotta pick it up. Except the shiny thing is literally anything that catches your attention,” she laughed.

“Exactly! Well, I was looking some stuff up online, or, no, I saw some stuff online, wait, let me start again,” you said. “My thoughts are moving faster than my mouth. Okay, so, when I was a teenager, I was on tumblr a lot. It was the only social media I really had. And on tumblr I’d see a lot about people with ADHD and autism and about hyperfixating on things. And I’ve always kind of hyperfixated on stuff - I mean, football, obviously, but other stuff too, like how on my days off I’ll binge watch an entire season of a TV show and then not shut up about it for like, a month straight, and then I’ll lose interest and basically never mention it again.”

“Or like when you decided to start playing guitar and bought a guitar and had 2 lessons and then stopped, or like when you got really into gardening for a few weeks and bought all those plants and seeds and books about gardening and then realised it was the wrong time of year for half the things you wanted to plant?” Leah asked, an amused look in her eyes.

“Huh. Yeah, I guess those count too,” you said, frowning. “So, yeah, I hyperfixate on things. And I’ve only ever seen it mentioned together with ADHD and autism. But I always thought wow, that’s so crazy that I do that but I don’t have either of those!”

“I feel like I know where this is going,” Leah smiled.

“Leah, what if I do have ADHD? I don’t think I have autism, I mean, I might, but I haven’t really looked into it yet, maybe I should-”

“One thing at a time, okay?” she laughed, putting a hand on your arm. “Y/n, we both know I am in no way qualified to tell you if you have ADHD or not. But I know you very well. We’ve known each other for what, 5, 6 years now? And it would not surprise me in the slightest if you have ADHD.”

“Really?” you asked, incredulous. “What makes you say that?”

“You mean, aside from what I just mentioned?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Last night? At the restaurant?” she gently reminded you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I may have also read up on the topic a bit. I kind of suspected you might have ADHD, but I didn’t want to bring it up until you did,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. You felt something flutter in your stomach at her confession. “Anyway, one of the things I read was that people with ADHD also struggle with overstimulation and sensory issues. Do you think that could be what happened last night?”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly quiet. “Maybe?”

“I’m sorry if I overstepped, I just-”

“No, no, it’s okay! It’s just a lot to take in.” you told her. Your mind was racing, thoughts splitting off into dozens of other thoughts, some fully formed and some nothing more than singular words or phrases.

You sat together in silence for a few minutes.

“What do I do now?” you asked Leah, your voice small. “I, um, I didn’t think I’d get this far. You’re the first person I’ve told, and I kind of expected you to tell me I’m being silly.”

“I would never say that,” she said, turning to look at you, her eyes fixed on yours. “I wouldn’t say that about something important to you, I promise. And as for what to do now, well, I guess you have a few options. You can keep going as you have been, and do some more research, if you want, and try to figure it out alone. Well, not alone. You’ve got me. Or you could speak to someone, a professional. See if your hunch is right.”

“And then?”

“I dunno, I guess that’s up to you. I suppose they’d be able to help you with coping mechanisms, or put you on medication, if that’s what you wanted,” she shrugs.

“Medication?” you asked. Your mind was full of pictures of hyperactive kids, bouncing off the walls. You propped your feet up on the bench, pulling your knees in close to your chest. “What if I’m wrong? What if there’s nothing wrong with me and I’m just being dramatic?”

“Then that’s okay, too,” Leah said firmly. “Then you’re just dramatic, but that’s okay, too. I promise.”

You nodded, resting your chin on your knees.

"Would you be able to help me find someone to talk to? I don't know how, or where, or, anything, really," you asked.

"Of course," she said, putting her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. "I'll help in any way I can."

#hannah writes fics #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson fluff #adhd #woso fanfics #woso #woso x reader #awfc #woso imagine #woso fanfic

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janeyseymour · 6 months

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Hii hope ur doing well x If ur still accepting requests for Mel x Reader could u do one where reader has some type of disability like chronic pain and they have a flare at school (cause they both work there) and Mel immediately runs to action and there's like Loooots of comfort etc hehe :3

I hope this is what you're looking for!

Too Late Now

WC:~4.3k

You usually have this under control. Since your fourth concussion, you’ve dealt with the headaches and the occasional migraines easily. Doctors have been helping you and make sure that you always have your emergency migraine medication at the ready.

On top of that, it’s been seven years that you’ve been living with this. You know the when a headache or a migraine is coming for the most part. You didn’t even bother writing down on your forms when you got hired that you should technically have accommodations due to your chronic migraines. You just know how to handle them at this point. It’s part of your everyday life.

Melissa, your girlfriend, doesn’t even know about your condition. She doesn’t need to know. You saw the way she sprung into action when you had the flu a few months ago- or when you had caught the stomach bug from the kids. After taking care of you with absolutely no complaints, she got sick both times herself. You took care of her too, much to her dismay. She was a caretaker, she did not like to be the one being taken care of.

When you wake up, you feel a little funny. But something is going around the school, as it always is around this time of year. So you chalk it up to that, and you take an Advil and an allergy pill.

When you’re leaving, you almost have half a mind to throw in your migraine medication just in case… but you get distracted by a text from Melissa asking if you wanted coffee this morning from Dunkin.

Of course I do, you reply back.

Your usual?

Please, and thank you.

Sounds good. I’ll see you at school gorgeous.

And because of that text exchange, you forget to throw your pills in your purse and leave the house.

As you’re driving, your headache worsens just slightly, and you groan. Allergy season was bad at this time of year, and your sinuses have been paying for it- post nasal drip is at an all time high, you’ve already had an ear infection this season, and you’ve been getting sinus headaches because of it. You don’t realize a migraine is coming on yet, so you just pop another Advil before you head into Abbott.

Your girlfriend is waiting for you in the teacher’s lounge like usual, and she almost immediately sees how unwell you’re feeling.

“Hey, baby,” she says softly as she kicks out the seat next to her.

“Hey,” you sigh, but you don’t take a seat. You just lean down and peck her lips before standing back up straight with a grimace.

She hands you your coffee with a frown. “You feelin’ okay, hon?”

“Allergies,” you say through a yawn. “I think I’m gonna go sit in my classroom this morning, but you enjoy your news.”

“Alright, hon. Do you want me to come with you?”

“I know how much you like your news,” you tell her. “I’ll be okay.” You head to your classroom, and she watches you in concern.

By the time the kids are supposed to come in, you know exactly what’s happening- a migraine is coming on. And you, like an absolute lovesick idiot, forgot your medication because you were too busy texting your sweet girlfriend. Your head is in your hands as you massage at your temples, the lights are off, the sound of the barely functioning air conditioning is making your eyes throb in pain.

Hypothetically, you could call out now. But there’s a shortage in substitutes, you don’t think you can even think properly to create sub plans, the thought of moving from your desk makes you want to cry, and you know it’s only a short amount of time until you’re unable to drive for the next… eleven hours. You probably wouldn’t even be able to make it the drive home.

You have no idea how you’re going to survive today without your medication.

When the kids start to make their way in, you nearly burst into tears. You silently thank God that you didn’t put any makeup on today. You throw your sunglasses on as they trickle in, and you stay seated at your desk.

You can’t teach today, and you know this. It’s going to be a day where the kids sit quietly and watch magic school bus, you take them out for extra recess, and then they can sit and work on their projects, or read and draw. You don’t care what happens today, as long as they aren’t loud.

Again, your kids think that they have a sub until they see you sitting at your desk in the dark.

“Ms. Y/N?” one of the girls comes in and runs up to your desk.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you say softly, and even the eight year old can see the pain etched in your face.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Skylar,” you tell her quietly. “Ms. Y/N’s head just hurts, so today is mostly going to be an independent and quiet work day. Unpack and get ready for today, love bug.”

The little girl gives you a gentle hug before going to her desk and unpacking. You keep your eyes closed as the rest of them trickle in, and they’re oddly quiet. They are never this quiet. You almost always have to remind them to do their handwriting pages and do their lunch count.

When you do open your eyes to take attendance and explain to them what’s happening today, you see that Skylar had quietly taken it upon herself to write the morning routine on the board.

Morning! The note on the board reads. Ms. Y/N’s head hurts, so come in quietly. Unpack, lunch count, the next page in journal, then DEAR.

Your heart melts, and you realize how lucky you are that your students genuinely care about you the way that they do. Skylar is over by the lunch count board writing a tally for you, and she quietly comes and slips it over to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you whisper to her, and you have a small tear trail down your cheek. “Do you want me to take it to Ms. Schemmenti to put in, or should I take it down to the office?”

“I can put it in, honey,” you give her a gentle squeeze before opening your laptop. You wince immediately due to the light, but you can handle this. You can’t have her go down to Melissa’s- your girlfriend would flip her lid when she found out how under the weather you were feeling and you didn’t stay home or ask for her help.

All of your students watch you silently. They’ve never seen you this drained. Sure, they’ve seen you sick; you rarely call out. They’ve seen you tired after a night of volunteering or staying up late to finish grading papers and preparing for them. But they have never, ever seen you this down- to the point that your skin is pale and you can’t take off your sunglasses because your head hurts so bad.

“Miss Y/N?” one of the boys raises his hand quietly, and he’s usually known for giving you a hard time.

“Yes, Cameron?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You just barely nod and take a shaky breath. “Here’s what we’re going to do today,” you tell them. “We’re going to do our independent work for each of our subjects today- I know we have projects and papers in all of the subjects except math. For math, I’ll have… somebody… take you outside for extra recess, and if you’re good and quiet today, I’ll put on Magic School Bus at the end of the day for dismissal. Deal?”

All of your kids nod, and you give them half a smile. Then you get a shooting pain right behind your left temple, and you quietly cry out in pain. You grip the table for a few seconds and take a deep breath before you open your eyes again. They all look absolutely terrified.

“Nobody tells Ms. Schemmenti,” you tell them as you point at them all.

They all raise their hands in surrender.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, shakily. “Who is going to lead our morning meeting?” It’s Rayna.

When that’s over, the kids quietly pull out their social studies projects and start to work on them. When social studies is over, they quietly move on to their independent reading for fifteen minutes. And then they line themselves up silently for specials.

“Can I trust you all to walk yourselves down to the gym silently?” As you write a note to the gym teacher explaining that they are coming on their own and to just send them back down to your room when gym is over.

“I take my line leader duty very seriously, Ms. Y/N,” Jayden tells you seriously. “If we aren’t quiet, I’ll tell you.” You nod, hand him the note with the instruction to give it to the PE teacher, and they’re off.

You get approximately forty-five minutes of peace and absolute silence. You close the door, grab your coat and throw it over your head, and lay down on the back table. You’re small enough to fit if you curl up.

On your kids’ way back to the classroom, they just happen to see your girlfriend in the hallway on her way out of the teachers’ lounge.

“Where’s Ms. Y/N?” the redhead asks with a popped eyebrow. You always walk with your children everywhere.

All of the kids look at each other nervously, remembering the way you told them that they weren’t to tell the second grade teacher. But Melissa is staring them down.

“She called the gym teacher and told him to just let us walk down by ourselves because she had to use the bathroom,” Jayden tells a fib, and he hates doing it to his former teacher. But he promised you.

Melissa furrows her brows, but Jayden’s always been a good kid. “Okay… Well, tell Miss Y/N to put up another class compliment star because you’re all walking through the hallway very nicely.”

The line leader nods and takes off in the direction of your classroom, while Melissa heads towards the office to make copies.

You’ve just barely managed to get yourself back to your desk when the kids come back in, but your migraine is starting to make you nauseous, and you don’t even know what to do anymore. You won’t even be able to drive yourself home, so you just have to wait this out- at least you should get paid for it.

“We saw Ms. Schemmenti in the hall,” Omari tells you quietly while everyone else is getting out their snacks. “She said to give us a class compliment star because we were walking so nicely.”

“Nobody said anything, did they?” you ask.

“Jayden told her you were in the bathroom and told the gym teacher to just let us walk down,” your student says. “I don’t think he liked having to lie to her though… and Ms. Schemmenti didn’t really look like she believed him.”

As if on cue, the second grade teacher is knocking softly on your doorframe. She looks so concerned for you. “Ms. Y/N?”

You thank God you weren’t facing the door and have half a mind to rip off your sunglasses before standing and meeting her on the other side of the room. “Class, eat your snacks while I talk to Ms. Schemmenti in the hallway.”

“Amore,” Melissa whispers softly as she gets a look at you. “You look terrible. Why don’t you go home? I can split your class between the other third grade class and mine- not like I haven’t juggled two grades at one time before.”

“I- I can’t go home,” you mumble, and you wince at the florescent lights that aren’t out for once.

“And why’s that?”

You bite your lip. You have to admit to her just how terrible you’re feeling. She’s going to flip out and become insanely protective. She’s going to be upset you didn’t tell her about your condition before. “I get chronic migraines sometimes, and I… I have one right now.”

“Oh, hon,” Melissa whispers sympathetically.

“I usually have meds for it to lessen the pain, but I left it at my house this morning, and I think if I tried to drive home, I would throw up or black out,” you tell her honestly. “The kids have been really great this morning though, and they understand.”

“How can I help?”

“During my math period, can you take them outside? They deserve extra recess today,” you practically whimper as you close your eyes and brace yourself for the shooting pain you can feel getting ready to come on.

“Why don’t I just split the kids for the rest of the day while you lay down?” your girlfriend suggests.

“I’m here, they’re behaving and quiet, and I need to get paid,” you tell her. “They’re okay with me for everything except math.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” the redhead sighs. “But you just call if you need me, you hear?”

“I know,” you say softly. “I’ll be-” You cut yourself off with a whine and grab her arm as the pain comes. When it’s over, you relax and finish, “-fine.”

Your girlfriend shakes her head with a deep breath before stepping into your classroom. Jayden looks terrified.

“Ms. Schemmenti, I didn’t mean to lie to you,” he says quickly. “I didn’t want to, but I-”

“It’s okay, buddy,” she says softly before looking to the rest of the class. “You be on your best behavior for Ms. Y/N, and if anything happens, you come down to my room. I’ll be over during your math time for extra recess if you continue having a great day. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” your students reply, and you walk slowly into your room before putting your glasses back on and putting your head in your hands. Melissa gives you a gentle pat on the back before squeezing your shoulder three times.

Your kids finish their snack, and when that’s over they work on their research project for writing. They line themselves up silently for lunch and walk themselves down. You take up your position on your back table again, and close your eyes. You beg God to make the pain stop, and you finally give in, crying.

What you don’t know is that your sweet, sweet girlfriend is on her way to your apartment to grab your medicine. She also grabs a gatorade and your favorite hoodie (that is actually hers). She stops at Wawa and grabs you a Tasty Cake before returning to the school.

When she gets to your classroom, her heart breaks. She can see the way that you’re shaking from underneath your coat, and she has no doubt that you’re crying.

“Oh hon,” she mumbles as she makes her way over to you. She lays a delicate hand on your back and rubs up and down soothingly. “I brought your medicine, your favorite hoodie, and a Tasty Cake from Wawa. Can you take the medicine for me?”

Her kindness and gentleness just makes you cry even harder- and that only makes your head hurt worse.

Your alarm on your watch starts to go off, and you whine. “I don’t think I can do my recess duty today.”

“I’ll get the music teacher to cover it- she’ll do anything to get some of my meatballs,” your girlfriend tells you. “You just take your meds, and hopefully they kick in.”

You nod, just barely manage to sit up and take the medication and you take the hoodie and ball it up and put it under your head.

After she calls the music teacher and arranges your coverage, she asks, “Jeet today?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Can you try to eat the cupcakes I brought?” At your nod, she opens it for you and practically feeds it to you.

“Did you eat?” you ask your girlfriend.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” she dismisses your concern. “I’ll get my lunch in eventually- just might be while the kids are running around on the playground for math.”

Once you’ve had one of the cupcakes, you groan. “I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay, hon,” Melissa frowns. “You know your body.”

“My body wants to sleep.”

“Well, you have another thirty minutes of recess, and you know I’ll always take your kids for you,” your girlfriend reminds you.

You nod and close your eyes. “Set my alarm for the end of recess? And if you wouldn’t mind just sending my kids here from outside for me?”

She presses a delicate kiss to the side of your head, but she doesn’t set your alarm. She fully intends to let you sleep the rest of the school day, and she’ll take your kids for you- all twenty three of them. She can handle it.

It’s not like Ava is here to tell you you can’t get paid for today. And in reality, Ava wouldn’t care anyway.

Your perfect, wonderful girlfriend picks your kids up from recess, and she has no idea how she manages this, but every single child is able to grab their belongings without waking you up. They were even able to silently move their chairs.

When you wake back up, your head is still pounding. It’s starting to ease up though. You glance at your watch from underneath your coat.

4:12 is staring back at you. School has been over for an hour…

You take your coat off of your head to see a classroom without chairs and Melissa perched on the closest desk to you, glasses on the tip of her nose and reading something on her phone.

“There’s my gorgeous girl,” she says quietly as she puts her phone away. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mel, why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed rest. Your kids’ chairs are in my room, and I told them to just come get them tomorrow.”

“I slept at school for almost four hours.”

“And how are you feeling now?” she prompts again.

“The prescription is starting to kick in,” you mumble. “But because I didn’t take it during the onset, I mostly just have to ride it out.”

“How long do your migraines usually last?”

“Hopefully, I only have another three hours of this hell,” you tell her.

“And are you feeling okay to go home?”

“I’m shocked Mr. J hasn’t come in here to kick us out,” you grumble.

Melissa flashes you that devious Schemmenti smile. “He did. But I told him… in a non-threatening way… that we would be staying here until you woke up on your own, and I would lock up the school.” She twirls the keys around her finger. “Now, do you need to stay here to ride it out, or…?”

“I really don’t know if I can drive to my apartment yet,” you admit sheepishly. “I’m still kind of nauseous.”

“Can I take you back home, then?” your girlfriend asks you softly as she fixes your wild locks.

You nod with a groan as you sit up. You go to grab your bags, but Melissa already has them next to her and both of your things are slung over her shoulders in a second.

“You just worry about getting your pretty little self into the car, yeah?” She presses a gentle kiss to your temple, and you know it’s all in your head, but her kiss makes you feel even the slightest bit better.

She piles your things in her car as you slowly get in and close your eyes. She gets in not a few seconds later, closing the door as quietly as she can. As the two of you are pulling out of the parking lot, you feel her warm hand settle on your thigh, and she squeezes it gently. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does- especially given how you’re feeling right now.

When she pulls in, she tells you gently to head in and up to bed. She’ll handle all of your things, she’ll be right in to curl up with you and/or nurse you back to health.

“I just have to ride it out, honey,” you remind her.

“Well, we’ll curl up together then,” she tells you. “And when you’re feeling up to it, I’ll make us something for dinner.”

“I love you,” you sigh softly as you drag yourself out of the car. You get yourself into the house and are just laying down in bed as she comes in. She changes, lays down next to you, and pulls you into her arms gently.

“Hon, I can sleep on my own,” you mumble into her chest. “I know you have a shit ton to grade.”

“I can do that tomorrow during my prep,” she whispers. “Right now, my girlfriend needs some love and attention.”

Because of her warmth and the delicate fingers that are tracing patterns on your arms, you fall asleep easily. And when you wake up, she’s still laying with you, and she’s half asleep herself. You wake up to a mouthful of red hair, and you sigh in content. Your head is no longer pounding- you think your migraine is gone.

“How’re you feeling?” your girlfriend asks you softly, eyes still closed.

“So much better,” you tell her truthfully. “You didn’t have to stay. You could’ve had dinner or graded stuff while I slept.”

“And what kinda girlfriend would that make me, hon?” Melissa retorts. “But I’m glad you’re feeling better. You ready to eat a real meal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh softly. “After a few more minutes of cuddles?”

“I can’t say no to that.”

After a few more minutes, and a rather loud grumble of both of your stomachs, you head into the kitchen hand in hand. She starts making dinner while you go over to one of her bags and start grading the math tests she gave to her class yesterday.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells you as she stirs the pot.

“I have to make it up to you somehow,” you say as you mark a few questions wrong.

“You can make it up to me by tellin’ me why I never knew you got migraines… and frequently enough to have the good shit prescribed to you,” the redhead says as she turns to look at you pointedly.

You frown and keep your eyes trained on the papers in front of you as you shrug.

“Y/N,” she says sternly. “C’mon.”

“Nobody really knows,” you mumble before you clear your throat. You suppose you have to be honest with your girlfriend. “After my fourth concussion seven years ago… it’s just something I got used to dealing with. I usually have them under control and can just push through them.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, hon?” she asks softly. “Or at least told me this morning when we were in the staff room?”

“I thought I was fine,” you tell her honestly. “It didn’t hit me until after I had already walked into my room, and at that point… it was too late, and I didn’t want you fussing over me for something I could’ve prevented.”

“Hey,” Melissa turns the burner down to let her sauce simmer. “I always worry about you- whether you’re sick or not. But when I saw you this morning, I knew something was wrong. You shoulda told me. I would’ve driven to your place to get your medicine sooner.”

“I was just going to tough it out,” you sigh.

“You were going to pass the hell out in pain,” she tells you. “Your kids were really worried about you.”

“I know they were… They were so sweet today and made sure they were on their best behavior for me,” you say softly. “I wish I would’ve gotten a picture of the morning message Sky put up on the board for the rest of the class.”

“They were just as well behaved for me,” the second grade teacher tells you honestly. “Although that may be because I promised them all doughnuts if they were good.”

“So… we have to leave early to pick up doughnuts for the kids?” you laugh. At her nod, you shake your head playfully. “I’m buying.”

“With whose card?” she snorts out.

“Mine, thank you very much,” you tease back.

With your banter, Melissa knows you’re feeling much better and are on your way to feeling 100 percent again soon.

After dinner, the two of you go back to lay in bed.

“Put a few of your pills in a plastic baggie for me to keep in my car for you tomorrow,” Melissa tells you as she pulls you into her arms again.

“Babe, I usually have them on me,” you tell her. “This was a one time thing.”

“I don’t like seeing you in pain though,” she mumbles against your head, kissing it gently. “And if I can help prevent you from crying out in pain at a small noise, I will.”

“Okay, honey.”

The next morning, the two of you show up to school with dozens of doughnuts for the kids, and yours and Melissa’s classes enjoy the treats together. They’re all thrilled to be rewarded with the sweet treat. They’re happy that they can talk in their own classroom again. They’re glad to see that you’re back to yourself.

“Ms. Y/N?” Skylar asks as she gives you a hug that morning.

“What is it, sweet girl?”

“Can you like, not get sick like that again? I’m happy we got doughnuts, but I don’t wanna have to play teacher again for you… It was hard.”

You chuckle as you muss her hair. “I’ll do my best kiddo.”

Melissa just nudges you with a smirk. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she assures your student.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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bvbygrl-writes · 6 months

Text

What Do I Know?

Pairing: Rich!Dilf!Sam Wilson x Black!College Student!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: Your best friend ain’t tell ya her dad was a daddy.

A/N: This is a repost from my old blog since I haven't been able to write anything with how exhausting work is jtgktr enjoy! ♥

Warnings: Age gap, fingering, pussy eating, overstim, fucking

THIS FIC IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE. I CHECK EVERY ACCOUNT DO NOT PLAY WITH ME.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to come home with you? This isn’t some small break like spring or that lil rinky dink one they give us in February.” (Y/n) asked, zipping the sides of her suitcase together. The long awaited summer break had come and after tiring, long hours of college classes all (Y/N) and Miyaki wanted to do was head home.

Well that was the original plot however it had clearly been lost. One phone call home and all of a sudden her mom and dad had magically ‘forgot’ to inform her that they had planned a trip for the two of them and the addition of her other three siblings (who somehow had been informed and never got left out..) to Europe. Although the girl was originally mad - rightfully so- she got over it really fast. So much so that she didn’t even bother letting her mom finish her little half assed excuse of how she thought she had texted her with the info and what not. This was her summer too and she was not going to start it off being upset over family drama.

However she still did feel bad about joining Miyaki on her trip home. The two girls had become fast friends during their few years at college and as the tall woman had said “We’ve been friends for years and ain’t been to each other’s houses once. You don’t think that’s a lil weird?” and she had to agree but it was one thing to spend the night at a friend’s house but to spend an entire summer? That was practically unheard of from where she came from! Nobody had that kind of money and food to be feeding an extra mouth for an entire three months.

“Yes girl, relax! I asked my dad today if it was chill for you to come and he agreed! Quit worrying and grab yo shit, the car is waiting out front.” The green eyed girl said, tossing her faux locs over her shoulders. Before (Y/n) could get in another worry or complaint she walked out of the dorm, slamming the door behind her.

“That girl has some serious attitude problems, I’ll tell ya that…” the girl muttered to herself, rolling her suitcase in tow. She eyed the dorm one last time, smiling at the nice memories they had made this year before exiting, leaving the key under the mat for the next students that’d come to stay.

——————————

The first sign that Miyaki came from a different living situation from her was the shiny black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the housing part of campus. There was an older gentleman in a chauffeur outfit who put their bags in the car. She’d given her friend a look who gave her a confused one back before hopping in the car with her. Was this really not out of the ordinary for her? If this was just her car what would her house look like?

(Y/n) let out an audible gasp as the big black gates opened.

“You live in a gated community?!” she exclaimed, turning to her roommate. Miyaki’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“Gated community? Sis….this is my house!” she let out a laugh as the (h/c) haired girl remained silent, looking at the large house in awe. How many people lived with Miyaki? To say she was stunned was an understatement. Miyaki was the most down to earth person she had met since going to college at Stonebrook. As the name suggested, it was a really prestigious and fancy school, tons of stuck up brats on daddy and mommy’s pay going to the school. (Y/n) had always been isolated by her peers since she was attending on a scholarship. They found it pathetic and pitied her which she despised. Why should she be looked down on for actually working to get into school?

Miyaki had never felt that way though. She treated (Y/n) as she treated everyone else…if not a little better (the girl had quite a mean streak) and was very quiet about her home life. But now as they walked up the quartz stairs and through the big marble columns, she could understand why.

“Dad, we’re home! Come meet my friend!” the girl’s voice echoed across the entire house causing her to snicker. ‘Does she ever use an inside voice?’

“I’ll be down in a sec, sweetheart!” a deep baritone voice called out. (Y/n) felt her heart race at the sound. The man’s voice went through her ears like silk. It was smooth but had a bit of a dark tinge to it, like a hint of cream in black coffee. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her socials as she awaited the man’s presence. After what felt like forever a pair of footsteps came in their direction before parking in front of them. The woman almost dropped her phone at the sight in front of her.

In front of her was the finest man she had ever seen. Brown skin that had that healthy glow, prominent cheekbones, and a bit of facial hair around the mouth region. He was only in jeans and a t- shirt but the way it fit him? The shirt clung to his torso perfectly, the muscles of his upper arms constricted by the cuffs, toned chest. This was her father? She could’ve never guessed by how fit he was! Thighs so thick that she had to stop herself from letting her thoughts drift (more so than they already were..). But when he smiled? Her legs turned to jello. His smile was bright and blinding and he had the most charming gap. It seemed as time had slown down when she was looking at him and from the looks of it he wasn’t disappointed at what he was seeing either. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her midriff for just a little too long or the slight whistle he let out before covering it up with a cough.

“I’m Sam Wilson, Miyaki’s father. You must be (Y/n).” he said, holding a hand out for her to take. She gladly accepted it, shaking it with one hand as she placed the other one on top of both of them in a gentle way. The girl smiled back at him offering him a nod.

“Indeed I am! It’s so Nice to meet you Mr.Wilson and can I just say how thankful I am for you and Mrs.Wilson allowing me to stay with you guys for the summer. Especially with Miyaki’s short notice and all.” out of the corner of her eye she could see Miyaki roll her eyes at her sudden over-politeness towards her father and the way she had completely thrown her under the bus. Her attention was brought fully back to the man in question as he tightened his grip around her hand some.

“Mrs.Wilson? I’m not surprised Miyaki didn’t give you the details. It’ll only be the three of us here for the summer so in other words, there is no Mrs.Wilson.” he looked to the side a bit before turning back to face her, a smirk present on his face. “Also you don’t gotta be so formal, just Sam will do.” Miyaki cleared her throat impatiently causing the two to look to the side before laughing together. “Well it looks like Yaki is getting impatient so if you girls need anything, I’ll be around. Dinner is at 6.” the older man gave her a once over before walking off to what she could only assume was the kitchen.

“Girlll and you been hiding him from me because??” (Y/n) asked, rubbing her hands together. Miyaki smacked her lips together, dragging the girl towards her room.

“You betta stop playing with me.” when her friend stayed quiet, the girl gasped, turning her head. “Wait you’re joking…you tryna get my dad to hit?! Oof.” she grunted as one of her pillows hit the back of her head. Turning she saw her friend on her bed, glaring at her.

“Don’t say it like that! All I said was he’s fine nothing more nothing less. That can’t be your first time hearing that, one of your other friends has had to say something.” She felt the girl thud down beside her on the bed. She hummed for a bit before flipping over to face her friend.

“I mean I can’t say I’m surprised really. You love you an older man. Remember when you switched to that one baking course just so you could flirt and make googly eyes with Mr.Garcia?”

“That’s not why I switched! I was simply interested in getting to know his favorite dessert!” (Y/n) exclaimed, turning her head the opposite way. “In hopes that maybe I could become his favorite dessert.”

“Whateva. Anyways, you wanna watch a movie till dinner?”

—————————–

Dinner had been amazing. Sam went all out, pulled out the grill, made dessert, it was all so lavish and delicious! He even had lobster which (Y/n) made sure to take full advantage of. He had said help yourself and who was she to go against his wishes in his home?

It was now around three in the morning as she stumbled around the house curiously. She and Miyaki had gone to bed early, absolutely exhausted from the long car ride over and while it was easy for her friend to stay asleep when turning in early, she found it hard to. No matter what if she went to bed before twelve she’d always end up waking up during some odd hour of the night.

A sound came from down the hallway catching her attention. It was a repeated thudding and while usually she wouldn’t go chasing after mysterious noises, she knew it couldn’t be anything too bad. Sam had the security on this house underlock and she had seen how beefy his security guards were.

Once she reached the end she turned the knob from the room in which the sound was coming from. Gasping quietly, she opened the door a little wider trying to be as quiet as she could. The sight in front of her was absolutely heavenly. There was Sam, shirtless, in nothing but a pair of grey joggers beating the hell out of a punching bag. His jabs were sharp and powerful causing the chains to rattle with each blow to the sack. Goosebumps formed all over her skin at the sight of his power. If he could do that to a punching bag, what could he do with her?

All the what ifs invaded her mind causing her to rub her thighs together hungrily in thought. She hadn’t even noticed that Sam had moved until the door she was standing in closed, leaving the two of them in the room together. He offered her a smile, a yawn interrupting his incoming words. His arms flexed above his head giving her an even better view of his muscles. It was an even grander sight than she had imagined when she saw him clothed earlier.

“Can’t sleep?” she shook her head at his question, sitting on the bench in front of him. “ ‘S alright. Why don’t you help me train then? Try to get me to the ground. Come on, don’t be shy, didn’t seem like you were earlier.”

———————————-

As expected, (Y/n) couldn’t get him to the ground at all! Time and time again he had managed to get her down but she couldn’t complain too much. Being this close to a hot and sweaty man? Having him touch and feel all over her body? She could get used to this.

“You know, for an old man you’re pretty strong!” (Y/n) was out of breath, sweat dripping down her chest. Letting out a deep breath she held a hand out for Sam to shake. He eyed it before taking it causing her to give him a devilish grin. Within a few seconds she had dragged him close, sweeping a foot under his leg. He fell like she intended but what she hadn’t done was calculating him keeping a hold on her wrist. The two both fell with a thud, Sam hitting the mat while the not so sneaky woman fell on top of him. She pushed herself up, hands flush against his chest as she straddled him, looking down at him. Her eyes widened at the feeling of two large hands gripping her ass, eyes trailing up to his.

“Didn’t you say you were having trouble sleeping? I think I got something that can put you right to sleep.” was this really happening? Was she hearing him correctly? That thought didn’t last long at the feeling of his dick poking at her through the fabric of his sweats. His dark eyes were practically black from how blown out his pupils were. Leaning forward, their lips connected.

The kiss was slow and sensual like the vibes he gave off. His lips were soft, the taste of coffee mixed with his natural taste. As the kiss grew more heated, Sam flipped them over, laying the girl gently on the mat. He continued with a trail of kisses, from her neck, collarbone, his fingers massaging the flesh of her hips. His lips gave extra love to her chest, licking and sucking upon the brown sensitive buds.

His open mouth trail of kisses slowly became sucking the further and further he got towards the center of her legs.

“C-careful. Don’t leave- don’t leave marks our else Miyaki might see.” she warned, causing him to pause momentarily. Lifting his head he chuckled some, brushing his thumb against the sensitive area of skin near her upper thigh. Whether or not it’d be visible in summer attire was something she wouldn’t know until she got dressed the next day. Massaging her legs, he leaned up near her face, softly caressing her cheek.

“You’re a smart girl, (Y/n). I’m sure you can figure it out.” she huffed but remained quiet, a pout prominent on her face. A large hand came to rest around her throat, squeezing lightly. “ I’d advise you to lose the attitude if you wanna go to bed satisfied.” She shuddered at his words but remained quiet, anxiously awaiting what he’d do next.

From the looks of it, he wasn’t sure where he was going to take it next. He was eager, lust clouding his brain and thoughts. Sam was now acting on primal instincts alone. He reached for her sleep shorts, peeling them off before tossing them to the side. Keeping the eye contact they had, he guided two of his fingers into the mess that was her cunt. Despite barely touching her, her pussy was beyond creamy, juices dripping out the further he stuck his fingers in. Long, thick digits made their way into her with ease.

He made sure their eyes were connected, his stern eyes in a narrow assertion of dominance while her own (e/c) ones were glossed over as she fought to keep them open and focused on him. It was an agreement that didn’t need to be spoken: her eyes were to be on him at all times. Every so often her eyes would jitter close as his fingers nudged against her spot but still she persisted, wanting to be good for him, to prove herself.

Sam removed his fingers, guiding them up to the girl’s lips. Her eyes widened, gagging around the digits as waiting tears finally fell. Once he was satisfied he removed them, positioning himself between her legs. Using his thumbs he spread apart her pussy lips, salivating. Her cunt was so plush, clit engorged and pulsating, just aching to be touched.

He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it as he swirled his tongue. The girl reached instantly, hands clinging to his head the best that she could as her hips arched forward. This is something Sam usually wouldn’t fly with but he’d allow it this once. An airy moan fell from her lips as she continued to buck against his face, pelvis jerking rapidly at the feeling of his fingers lightly teasing her around her hole.

(Y/n) felt her entire body buzzing with pleasure. Her hands searched for anything to cling onto as her orgasm approached her, making its way to her faster and faster. An overstimulated whimper left her lips followed by her slick coating the older man’s face and mouth which he gladly accepted, the most sinful of noises leaving him as he cleaned her up. Her clench eyes relaxed as her body fell limp to the mat, chest heaving in heavy breaths.

“You tapping out already, princess?” she lifted her head from the ground, propping herself up onto her elbows as she gave him a glare. Kicking him onto his back, she climbed into his lap, aligning the tip of his cock with her entrance, bits of his precum mixing with the reminisce of her arousal.

“Not even close old man.” they both shared a loud groan as she sunk down onto him in one swift movement. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she tried to gain a hold on him, wanting to get the upper hand. However Sam was just so…large. His girth stretched her out greatly, the head of his cock just barely kissing her cervix causing her to let out a pathetic whimper. Sam chuckled some, wrapping his hands around her waist, guiding her own to rest around his shoulders.

“It’s okay baby, I’ve got you. You gotta relax though or it’s gonna be a toughy for both of us.” she nodded lazily at his words, tightening her grip on his shoulders, head under his chin. He rubbed at her back gently, feeling as her muscle began to untense around him. “Better?”

“Y-yes just move. Wanna feel you.” he placed a kiss to the top of her head before beginning to thrust, letting out a small ‘fuck’ under his breath. Despite her being fully relaxed and prepped, she was still so tight around him. After a bit of trial and error, he had finally managed to find a good rhythm but even with as patient as he was he couldn’t hold back any longer.

Locking his arms around the base of her spine, he gripped her in his arms, trading out his slow and deep thrust for a series of fast and shallow ones. The sounds she was making for him only egged him on as she babbled and drooled on about how she couldn’t take it, how good it felt.

“O-oh god! ‘M not gonna la-last any longer! Wanna cum with you! Wanna- can we, pl-please!” she cried out, tears mixing with the mess of drool on her face.

“Yeah? Let’s cum together then.” he agreed, not having much left in him himself. With a few final powerful thrust, Sam came deep inside of her, (Y/n) following right along with him. The girl fell forward into his chest, the both of them panting, holding each other covered in sweat. She let out a soft chuckle, looking up at the man who was already staring down at her.

(Y/n) had originally thought it was gonna be a long summer, but this was way different from what she had in mind. She was fucked.

Metaphorically and Physically.

#x black reader #x black fem reader #x black plus size reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #sam wilson x y/n #captain america x reader #falcon x reader #poc!reader #poc reader #black!reader #black!fem!reader #marvel imagine #marvel smut

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weministertomonsters · 4 months

Text

Naga Father (Araza) x gender-neutral reader - 2

"Just a few kids from school won't hurt, Mr. Araza. You have to give Sam a chance at a normal life," you say in exasperation, shaking some food into your cat's bowl and balancing the phone against your shoulder.

You've been babysitting Sam occasionally for a few months, enough to feel somewhat comfortable with pressing the subject of holding a birthday party for Sam.

"He's not normal," is Mr. Araza's reply, and you grit your teeth for a second before you blow your breath out slowly, forcing yourself to calm down.

"I know you're trying to toughen him up in your own way... But he's going to end up hating you if you don't ease up now and then. Sam is smart, you know. He can figure out how to live in a world of humans on his own."

"I know what's best for my son," Mr. Araza says, and you hear the shuffle of papers in the background.

"Oh, are you working? Did my call interrupt you? Sorry, I'll hang up now. Just think about it, okay?"

Before he has the chance to respond, you hang up.

"He's a tough nut to crack, Ginger," you say to your orange cat who is happily crunching down on his food. "I wonder what happened to make him like that?"

On a whim, you grab your phone and look his name up. There he is, featured in an article from a prominent news station. He was one of the two nagas rescued from a monster trafficking ring that got busted fifteen years ago. There's a picture of him with the other monsters that were rescued. He's staring blankly at the camera, a blanket wrapped around his thin shoulders. The other naga was too weak and passed away in the hospital. Everything makes sense now.

You put your phone down and stare hard at the wall. No wonder he's so fiercely protective of his son and pushing him to survive the best he can. Your phone buzzes and you look down to see a text from your best friend, Cora.

Hi Tobi, it reads, I know this is short notice, but I totally forgot I had a marriage counseling appointment today and we can't leave Annabelle alone! Do you have 2 hours to spare? I made chocolate chip cookies this morning!

A smile curves onto your lips and you type a reply.

I'll be there in 10 minutes

Cora only lives a couple of blocks away, so you end up walking there. Cora and her wife are in the driveway, ready to leave.

"Tobi, you're an angel!" Cora says, coming forward. "I present to you my devil spawn."

Annabelle squirms restlessly in her mother's grip, nibbling on her forearm. The five-year-old had new teeth coming in and apparently, her mother's arm is a serviceable chew toy.

"She's got a ton of energy today," you laugh and scoop her up.

The pup smells like baby shampoo and cookies. You wave her parents off and hoist her onto your shoulder.

"So what do you want to do?" You ask her.

"I want ice cream!" She yells, her knee catching you in the ribs.

"Oof. Isn't it a little too close to lunch?"

"I want a burger too! With cheese!"

"Demanding, aren't you? An alpha in the making for sure. Okay. We'll have burgers and ice cream. Just don't tell your mommy okay?"

She grins and nods. The commercial strip is within walking distance and even if it's a bit far away you figure Annabelle could use a long walk. As you walk together you're making a mental note not to marry a werewolf. Even a half-werewolf would be hyper, but Annabelle is out of this world. She's so bouncy that half the time her feet aren't even on the ground. You're forced to herd her around now and then so she doesn't hop off the sidewalk.

You're relieved when you reach the ice cream shop because it has a fenced-in playground.

"I'm going to make a sandcastle!" Annabelle shrieks, charging towards the sandbox.

"Okay, darling." You grab your phone and text Cora.

Bestie, what's up with Belle today?

Too much sugar :( my bad. I caved and let her have frosted flakes for breakfast Cora texts back.

Oh boy. Then ice cream is going to be a bad idea. Idly you walk up to the swings, wondering how you're going to convince her to get something else. And then you notice Mr. Araza and freeze. He pauses too, looking down at you. You have to put a hand up to your face to hide your grin because he's on the monkey bars. It's sturdy enough to hold his weight, but he looks ridiculous. His son is underneath, head craned up to look up at his father.

"Hello," you say politely.

"Papa is stuck," Sam says, turning to look at you. "Help him, Tobi."

You gulp down a burst of laughter and bite your lip hard, trying not to let your amusement show. Mr. Araza's golden eyes narrow, and his tongue flicks out, tasting the air. His eyes turn into annoyed slits and he lets out a huff. His tail is wound through the rather sophisticated monkey bars, and you can see he's stuck in more than one place.

"How did you even get up there?" You ask.

"I was... Teaching Sam how to climb," he says, and you can't help the small laugh you make this time.

"I do not find this humorous, neither should you," he hisses. "My tail is going numb. If it's not too much trouble, I would appreciate a hand."

You glance down at Sam. "Hey, I brought a friend with me, and she's the same age as you. Maybe you could play together?"

Sam looks doubtfully at Annabelle, who has forgotten about her sandcastle and is digging a hole in the sandbox. Then he nods and shyly slithers over to say hello. You turn back to Mr. Araza and put your game face on.

"How about I make you a deal? Promise to actually think about throwing a party for Sam, and I'll help you."

His pupils widen in shock. "You can't be serious," he scoffs.

You reach out and poke at his tail. "I dunno, Mr. Araza. You seem stuck pretty good."

"For heaven's sake," he rolls his eyes and his shoulders slump a little. "Fine. Quickly now, I look ridiculous."

You grin. "Then it's a deal," you say and walk around him in a slow circle, calculating.

You're not sure how you're going to get him out. The monkey bars are about six feet high, and he's right on top.

"Okay, I think I've got this," you say and begin to climb.

The next ten minutes are the most awkward ones of your life. You almost fall off twice. Mr. Araza twists his upper body to look at you, and his mouth turns down.

"You're going to hurt yourself this way."

"I'm good," you say, hooking your feet against the bars as you grab the thinnest section of his tail at the end. "You've kind of tied yourself into a knot here, mister," you tell him. "Can you move the end of your tail to the left?"

His tail moves, the end of it curling around your wrist.

"Okay," you mumble.

You succeed in freeing that section and move upwards.

"You're not a cat, you know. You can't fit in just any space," you tell him and you wrap your arms around his tail and press your chest against it like you're about to lift something really heavy.

Which is exactly what you're about to do. His tail is a solid hunk of muscle, his scales rasping against your bare arms. Maybe you press a little too hard or something, but he hisses and it's not a normal hiss. It's a "get your fucking hands off me right now" kind of hiss.

You jerk your hands back. "Sorry, sorry," you say.

You have just touched softer, more sensitive parts of his tail where scales have been ripped away. Naga scales are incredibly hard to damage or remove but after your research this morning, you can guess how that happened.

His claws clank against the bars as he repositions himself. He won't look at you but maybe that's a good thing. If he looks at you, he'll be able to tell that you know.

"Just get on with it," he mumbles, wiping sweat from his forehead.

You take a deep breath and carry on. He doesn't make a single sound after that, not even when you have to pull so hard that he shudders.

"Need some help?" An employee from the ice cream shop calls over, finally having noticed.

"No, I've got it," you call back.

Just one more section to go. Araza is sprawled on the monkey bars, his torso pressing against them. That can't be comfortable. The way he's gone so still and pliant worries you.

"Are you okay?"

He nods, his hair falling over his face.

"Look at me," you command. "Please?"

He darts a furtive glance over his shoulder. His eyes are glassy, like he's partly somewhere else. Not good. Quickly, you balance your feet on the bars and tug. He comes free and falls off the monkey bars with a thud, taking you with him.

"We're okay," you say to Sam and Annabelle, who look up curiously.

"They're playing," Annabelle giggles to her new friend.

Sam looks worried, but then smiles and goes back to playing. You realize your legs are tangled up in his tail and gently extract them.

"You okay?"

He shoots upright, rolling over to the underside of his tail is against the floor.

"I'm fine. Thank you," he says airily, brushing leaves out of his hair.

All signs of vulnerability are gone.

"Great," you say, trying not to sound too bright as you stand up and dust yourself off. "I'm sure you won't do that again," you laugh.

He flexes his claws. "I have learned a valuable lesson. Your human trappings are terrible replacements for trees."

"Try a park next time," you suggest. "Were you here for ice cream?"

"I promised him a reward for his hard work in school. I did not think he would suggest such a ridiculous-"

"We're here for ice cream too!" You say brightly. "How about we all go in and get some?"

If Mr. Araza is about to protest, Annabelle's excited screaming knocks it out of him.

"Please do not tell me that is your child," he says flatly. "She is untrained."

"She's just a kid," you say. "She can be very loud, I'll give her that."

"Come on," you tell the two children, "let's go get ice cream."

Later on, after you've dropped off a sleeping Annabelle- amazingly enough - at her home and gone home with a gift of a box of chocolate chip cookies, you get a call from Mr. Araza.

"I have made up my mind," he says.

"About the birthday party?"

"Yes," he says, and you begin to dance in triumph.

"On one condition," he adds sharply. "I don't know what a party entails. I'll need your help."

"Oh, you don't have to ask twice!" You say happily.

Maybe the upright naga is finally warming up to a little living...

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

The amount of times I mention "ice cream" in here, lol! 😭

#exophilia #terato #monster x reader #monster x human #naga

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mewhenimanangel · 5 days

Text

cherry, eren jaeger

—synopsis. you have a little more fun at jean’s party that you thought you would

—chapter 4 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚content!: au-high school, ballet dancer, teenage romance, black reader, underaged drinking, drunken makeout sessions, high school party

previous ౨ৎ next ౨ৎ

you yawned and stretched out your arms before rubbing a hand over your face.

a bad habit, you reached for your phone that was sitting on your nightstand. there was a text from eren - it was an address followed by the texts 'forgot to give you the address' 'you know for when you decide to come thru 😉' you found yourself smiling like a dork for some reason before texting him back, joking that you weren't going anywhere.

you clicked on lana's contact and face timed her. "hey" you said putting toothpaste on your toothbrush. "hey girl, what are you waking me up for" her voice was groggy. "are you going to that party tonight?" you asked her.

"yeah, i was actually gonna text you and ask if you wanted to come. who told you about it?" she asked you. "eren asked me to come" you told her and you could practically hear the smirk in her voice when she said "ohhh he definitely wants you. you should definitely come then" she continued "plus you've been like mad busy lately you need to come and get a little crazy"

maybe she was right, for the last month the only places you'd been were school, home, work, and dance. maybe you could use a break.

"fine i'll come. what are you gonna wear?" "that little black jean skirt i got from nando's in janurary. and maybe that cute little black shirt. you know, the ones that make my boobs look good" she told you. "oh, tryna look good in case connie's there?" you smirked. "oh shut up, but yeah of course he's gonna be there"

lana had a little crush on connie ever since junior year when they had to do a chemistry project together. you never really knew eren's group of friends but connie was always really touchy and flirty with lana, he was definitely into her too.

"anyways, ima go. i have a shift at one and my boss is gonna wring my neck if im late again." she sighed. "okay just remember to let me know when you're on your way, love you byeee" you blew a kiss to the camera and she did the same before hanging up.

you finished washing your face before going out into the living room to find your mom and enya on the couch watching bob's burgers. "hey sleepyhead, finally decide to join society?" your mom joked. "yup" you smiled, giving enya a kiss on the cheek to which she wiped off. "rude" you rolled your eyes.

you went to the kitchen to pop half a bagel in the toaster.

you went back into the living room to join them. "mommy.." you whined. "uh oh, what do you want?" she smirked. "can i go to a party tonight.." you smiled. she deadpanned "whose?"

"it's jean's party" you told her. "ugh the kiersten's kid? he's such a troublemaker" she scoffed. "i promise to stay out of trouble, come on you know me. plus lana's coming" you told her. you knew your mom trusted lana.

you spent five more minutes begging her to go, going in front of her to block the tv.

"ugh fine you can go. but, no alcohol, no drugs, and no boys" she pointed a stern finger at you. "yayyy thank you so much mama" you smiled, going to give her a hug.

"that's not fair i wanna go to parties" enya groaned. "you're 12, sit down" you scoffed.

ʚɞ

you got out of the shower and decided to keep it simple with your outfit. you put on a white tube top and a pair of denim shorts that ended a little under your butt. you wore a pair of white adidas on your feet and threw on your jacket while you waited for lana to text you that she was here.

once she was, you said bye to your mom and went out into her car. "wait, lil pregame first" she handed you a pink whitney shot bottle. "how are you just driving around with this in your car? you're not scared you're gonna get pulled over?" you scoffed. "it's fine, we'll just drive a bit and throw it in some random trash can"

"ready?" she asked you as you untwisted the cover. you cheered and tapped the bottom before shooting your head back and downing the liquor. "WOOOO, okay let's go! the party's at some random airbnb" she said, putting the address in her gps.

it was about a 20 minute drive there, twenty minutes spent singing along to lana's music.

when you got to the house, lana parked her car about a minute away and you walked your way up.

connie was on the porch talking to someone when he saw you two walk up. "hey girl!" connie smiled at lana bringing her in for a hug by the waist. "what's up" he nod his head at you and you put your hand up to wave.

the three of you walked inside, there were a lot more people there than you thought would be - you wondered how the party wasn't busted yet.

playing on the speakers was 'love scars', there were solo cups and beer bottles everywhere, people dancing, some guy shirtless on a table dancing, there was a game of beer pong going, and people just scattered around the house in general.

"wait what should i do with my jacket" you asked lana. "oh you can put it upstairs in the master bedroom, that's where we're putting all our shit. nobody else is allowed in there but i'll make an exception" connie told you. not wanting to let you go alone, lana asked connie to lead the way upstairs.

you put your jacket on the bed, looking at everyone's stuff you spot the jacket eren wore sitting on the arm chair. you wondered where he was, you may have even been a little excited to see him.

"aight let's get crazy" connie said, grabbing lana's hand and heading toward the door. you followed behind them before stopping when you saw eren coming up the stairs.

you saw the smile that graced his lips when his eyes landed on you. he was wearing a black shirt with a pair of black baggy jeans. his hair was tied back in his usual low bun and he smelled like cologne and a hint weed. his eyes were low and glossed over.

"hey" eren smiled , standing incredibly close to you. you could smell his cologne and a hint of weed on him, the combination was intoxicating "hi" you looked up at his eyes.

lana gave connie a look before leading him downstairs to leave you two alone. "i'm glad you made it" "yeah, i had to beg my mom to let me come, she doesn't trust jean"

eren blew air through his nose "nah i wouldn't trust him either" he watched you for a second. his eyes trailed over your body, admiring the way your top hugged you, and the shorts that showed off your slim dancer legs. you were somehow glowing, maybe it was something you were wearing. you smelled so good, like a mix of vanilla and strawberries. your hair was coily and down a little past your shoulders. your lips were outlined and glossy, god everything about you drew him in.

"you look good" he smiled, bottom lip between his teeth. "you do too" you sized him up, arms crossing.

"you wanna go get a drink or something?" he asked you. "sure, lead the way" you grinned.

he reached down to grab your hand, leading you downstairs. your heart beat a little bit faster, this is the most you've ever touched. you liked the feeling of your hand in his hand, it was a little bigger than yours and he had a ring on his middle finger. you watched the slight vein that peeked through under the watch on his wrist.

he reached both hands back behind him to lead you and weave through the crowd to the kitchen.

there were a few people in there, pouring shots and eating snacks. "what can i get you" he turned to look at you. "nothing too strong" was all you told him. he nod his head and grabbed a bottle of pink whitney "this more your speed?" he asked. "pink whitney does not fall under the category of 'nothing too strong'" you joked. "but sure" you said and he poured it in a shot glass.

he handed it to you and watched as you downed it in a few seconds. "you want another?" he asked you. "sure" you told him as he grabbed another shot glass for himself. "we'll do this one together" he poured the drink in the glasses.

he reached out for cheers as the two of you tapped the drinks on the table before shooting them back.

jean, connie, lana and armin joined you guys in the kitchen. they were currently passing around a blunt that jean had rolled. you noticed that eren was somehow even more touchy when he was high. you were sitting on one of the island stools while he sat next to you. his hand grazed your thigh, tracing random swirls over your skin with his fingers. he would rest his hand on the small of your back, stare you straight in the face while other people were talking.

as the night went on, you met with lana again before she dragged you into the crowd of people that were dancing in the living room. you wound up drinking more than you intended, solo cup on its second refill of tequila.

recently you've felt like you've been drowning in your day to day life. maybe tonight was a chance to drown in alcohol instead, letting it take over your body and let loose.

eren sat on the kitchen island with jean and watched from the kitchen counter for glimpses of you through the crowd. he watched how you whined your waist to the song playing. it was so interesting to see you like this, you're usually so laidback, he felt like he was seeing a new side of you.

he's watched you dance before, but this was different, your movements were more carefree, wild, and almost sensual.

somehow you made your way on the coffee table and the people around you began cheering as you danced. you were twisting your body and whirling your ass around. the crowd was now chanting your name.

as much as lana wanted to indulge in the fun, she knew if you sobered up and found out you did this, you'd be pissed at her for not stopping you.

she quickly ran over to eren "can you help me get y/n. she's on the coffee table dancing like crazy. can you come take her down? she's getting a little too drunk" lana told him. eren furrowed his eyebrows before nodding his head and following her.

he shoved through everyone to get to you, grabbing your legs and holding you in his arms by your thighs, taking you to the living room.

lana turned the kitchen stools around and eren sat you down on it. "how much did you even have to drink" eren chuckled. you giggled "not a lot-"

lana cut you off "way too much" you playfully shot your middle finger at her.

"alright so no more for you, time to sober up" eren rubbed the top of your head, grabbing the water he was drinking from earlier to hold it by your mouth.

"guess princess can get a little crazy too" jean laughed. "shut up" eren rolled his eyes. "you feeling okay?" he asked, bending his head to look at you. he put his hand on your shoulder and rubbed his thumb over your skin. "yeah i'm good" you smiled at him.

while you sobered up, eren and jean started a game of beer pong. you sat at the side of the table watching the game. soon - connie, lana, armin, mikasa, and marco joined the game.

right now it was connie vs armin and eren moved off to the side. you were watching them play until you looked up and saw eren staring back at you. he was leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

you weren't sure if it was the alcohol but his stare felt so intense. he didn't look away when your eyes met his, instead his lips twisted into a slight smirk that someone that wasn't staring right at him would've missed. you trained your gaze on his, waiting to see who would break first. the alcohol in your system was making you a lot bolder.

he smiled with teeth, placing his bottom lip between his lips. he nod his head towards the back door before slipping away from the group. you smiled as you watch him leave, getting the hint, but you decided to make him wait a minute or two.

you looked down at your phone to see a "you coming?" text from him. you tapped on lana's shoulder to tell her you'd be right back and she nod her head, telling you to be careful. you opened the door to the back patio - there were plants, a couch with a coffee table in front of it, and string lights decorating it. you were surprised no one was out here, it was so pretty.

it was a little cold but you braved it.

eren was sitting on the couch and smiled when he saw you come out. he had a joint in his hand and he was laid back in a manspread position. "you smoke?" you asked him. "nah, not often. you?" he took an inhale off it, blowing the smoke out through his mouth. "no, i never have" you admitted. "do you want to?" you nod your head "sure" and walked over to join him on the couch.

you sat next to him wrapping one leg under the other and leaning against the cushion.

eren moved closer and turned to face you put the blunt in front of you and instructed you on how to properly inhale it. "you ready?" his voice was low and his hand was held in front of your mouth, eyes not leaving yours. you nod your head and you wrapped your lips around it, trying to follow what he told you.

you felt the smoke go straight to the back of your throat and immediately coughed. you bent forward coughing as eren pat your back. you could hear him laughing though, "you okay?" he asked once you were done. "yeah" your voice was shaking. "wait lemme do it again" you reached for it. "are you sure" he chuckled. you nod your head and he gave it to you, throwing his arm around the back of the couch behind you.

once you were comfortable, you sat there for a while just talking and passing it to each other. you could feel yourself getting a little high, or at least what you thought it felt like. eren's arm that was around the couch was now blatantly on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles across it. the tension between you two could be cut with a knife, his low red eyes never leaving yours unless it was to look down at your lips.

you were now aware of how close you were sitting - your leg was laying against his, the other still underneath you, knee rubbing his thigh. his arm was basically around you and you were so close you could almost feel when he exhaled.

you weren't sure who leaned in first, all you knew was your lips were on his. he leaned over to put the blunt on the little tray in front of him. your lips pecked against each other until his hand behind you came to hold the side of your face, pressing his body against yours.

you put your leg across his lap and his hand came down to hold your inner thigh, just below your shorts. the kiss went from soft to sloppy and needy. you placed your hand at the side of his neck, pulling him closer. his tongue slid into your mouth and you jumped a little, pulling away. you looked back at him and he only stared back at you, eyes needy like if he doesn't kiss you again he'd starve.

you pressed your lips back against his and his hand on your thigh rose higher, almost touching your crotch. just as he did that, lana came through the door. you pushed yourself off him and jumped to your feet.

"oh! sorry to interrupt" she smirked. "but y/n we have to go now! my mom just called to ask where we were" she told you, tossing your jacket at tou. "o-okay i'll be right behind you" you said as she turned around to leave.

"um well i've gotta go now" you told him, all of a sudden feeling awkward. "damn okay then, i'll try not to miss you too much" he smirked. "yeah yeah, bye" before you walked away though, he grabbed your arm to spin you around. he held your waist and pulled you into another kiss.

"y/n let's go!" lana yelled from in the house. "bye" you giggled. "bye" he smiled at you. you turned to leave before bumping your hip into the table. you rubbed the spot and awkwardly smiled and waved at him as you turned to leave.

#nia writes ࿐#attack on titan #black reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #attack on titan characters #mikasa ackerman #jean kirstein #connie springer #armin arlert #attack on titan fanfic #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger smut

31 notes · View notes

starpirateee · 2 months

Note

WAITWAITWAITWAIT YKNOW HOW SPANKOFFSKI IS A POLISH NAME

PETE OR TED OR MAYBE BOTH SPEAKING POLISH AND CONFUSING THE PEOPLE AROUND THEM

JUST LIKE, THEY HAVE A PRIVATE CONVERSATION OVER THE PHONE THEY DONT WANT OTHERS TO HEAR SO SPEAK IN POLISH TO EACH OTHER AND WHEN TEHY HANG UP EVERYONE AROUND THEM IS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK??????

god im insane about themmmmmm

Anon this is really funny in concept, the size of your mind is insane && I just hope I can do it vague justice

The major problem for Ted on most days was that his phone tended to ring in the most inconvenient of places, at the most inconvenient of times. another major problem was that he often got so engrossed in… Whatever he was doing in the office that he forgot that he and Pete ran on completely different schedules, because his brother was still three months from graduating high school.

He'd been bunking off for the past half hour, and had been talking to Charlotte in the break room, trying to work out when a good time to see her again would be. Everyone who knew them tended to avoid the fact that she was blatantly using him as a fallback option because her husband couldn't— or wouldn't— give her what she wanted. People like Paul and Bill tended to ignore it, only because Sam was doing the same thing across town, with one of the Beanies' baristas, and one of his coworkers… Never at the same time, mind, but Zoey Chambers seemed rather unapologetic about it, so Paul and Bill had managed to work it out as fact.

Still, it was weird to see Charlotte with Ted. Because, at the right angle, it almost looked like Ted genuinely cared about her, and wanted to keep doing what they did to get her away from the thought of her husband for a while. That, of course, had seemed like enough total bullshit that nobody bought it, but they left the two of them to their well needed privacy when it came down to it. Only two people knew they were spot on with near enough everything they speculated about.

Ted leaned against the water cooler, sporting a little more confidence than would surely be allowed in a situation like this. Charlotte wasn't having a terrible day, and that meant it was that little bit easier to talk to her. Less Sam to think about… How did that bastard end up with a woman like her? And why was it that her situation was that bad that he was an upgrade for her?

He was going to think about an answer to that question, but his phone started ringing in his back pocket, vibrating way too dramatically against the cooler.

"Jesus christ-" He stood up a little straighter, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Sorry, Charlotte. One sec, I swear- hello?"

"Hey, Ted."

That was a voice he'd recognise from anywhere. Pete, once again working off his own time and perhaps completely overlooking the fact that Ted still had an hour at work.

For the sake of clarity, Pete checked his watch and drew the realisation that the holidays were over last week, and Ted was back on office hours. His brow creased, hoping he wasn't interrupting anything then realising there wasn't really anything to interrupt in his brother's work life. "This a bad time?"

"Oh, hey, Pete. No, you're good, I wasn't doing anything anyway…" Ted went straight back to lounging, aware that Charlotte was now trying not to eavesdrop but didn't really have anything better to do. "What's up?"

Pete chuckled. "C'mon, when are you ever doing anything? You don't do shit! Especially not at work!"

"Hey! I do shit! I get paid to do shit, don't I?"

"… Do you even know what department you work in?"

It was a genuine question, and would've accounted for Ted's genuine laziness and reluctance to do any of the actual work he was sent… If Ted hadn't prepared for this exact eventuality several months ago. He'd made sure to pay enough attention in a Monday meeting to at least account for what depeatment he worked in, and what that department pretty much required him to do. He didn't have to work constantly anyway, and that was the best part. His main job was just… fixing the problems everyone else had, when they had them.

"Sure I do. Tech support!" He imagined the defeated expression that flashed across his brother's face, and laughed to himself. There were too many people around him to make the point he was going to make next without getting mobbed, so he leaned in a little closer to the phone, a smirk playing on his lips, and muttered, "Czuję się, jakbym był jedynym idiotą, który faktycznie się zakwalifikował… (I feel like I'm the only idiot who's actually qualified…)"

That prompted an unexpected laugh out of Pete, who was clearly around other people too, because he tried to cover it up. "To wiele mówi (that says a lot.)" He returned once he'd stopped laughing. The two of them had stopped questioning the other's occasional slip into their own version of mostly fluent Polish. They used it to their advantage, to have private conversations in public, or sometimes in reverse when they were around the Polish side of their family. More things could be said if there was the added bonus of nobody overhearing, and that way of thinking had helped Pete out on a few occasions.

Ted cracked a smile. "Ty jesteś gówniarz- (you're a little shit)" He managed to bring himself back into the conversation they were supposed to be having, before he and Pete managed to lose it like they always did, lost in the jesting and the back and forth that just seemed to get better with every phonecall they had. "You didn't call to insult my supposed lack of work, did you? What's up?"

"Can I drop by the office and pick up your keys? I must've left mine on my desk this morning… Took me till third period to realise they weren't in my pocket…" Pete turned from the phone to mutter something- a goodbye, perhaps- towards someone else, and Ted found it vaguely amusing that Pete had retaliated to his complaint when he was with friends.

"You left after me this morning…"

"The front door locks itself, don't worry about it."

Ted faltered, and then nodded. He'd figured that by accident once when he accidentally locked himself out after forgetting his own keys, and he had to wait in the foyer for half an hour like an absolute fool for Pete to show up after his study session. "Fine. You know where the back entrance is, don't you? My car's parked out there, you should recognise it."

"That hunk of shit? I'd recognise it anywhere,"

"Do not slander my car!"

"C'mon, Ted, you've had it like, twenty years! And it hasn't gotten any better in all that time…"

He was going to ignore for now the seemingly increasing pile of problems that it seemed to have every year. Wings that needed replacing because they'd rusted so hard last year, numerous little engine faults… And the suspension was probably shot after all these years… It was a hunk of shit, sure, but it was _his_hunk of shit. "You just wait till you get your own hunk of shit, we'll see who's laughing then!"

"I'm- I'm getting close, I can see your car. Thanks for this, by the way…"

"Yeah yeah, don't mention it, Pete. You better not lose 'em on your way home, I know what you're like…"

"Dupek. (Asshole)"

"Tak, też Cię kocham… (Yeah, I love you too)" Ted chuckled before Pete hung up on him with a scoff. He rolled back his shoulders and stood up from the water cooler. Charlotte tilted her head, and it dawned on him that she'd probably heard all of that. He shrugged. "My brother. Useless bastard left his keys in the apartment… Hold on just a moment." He flashed her a quick smile and sauntered out of the break room towards the lift at the back of the office. Charlotte didn't have the time nor the space to question the constant little jumps in language that may well have happened on both ends, because Ted was gone before she had the chance to think about it at all.

#starkid #ted spankoffski #peter spankoffski #void offering #star mail #nova's tags →#i love the idea of ted hiding the fact hes a massive sap by only being a massive sap in polish #like damn that man really will never tell anyone he loves his brother but his brother huh #king of showing affection tbh #btw feel free to correct me on the language if i got anything wrong #i'll be happy to change anything #i'm not a polish speaker and i did use google translate #you know how it is

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teacasket · 10 months

Text

august

genre: angst au: high school au, summer love au warnings: swearing word count: 0.8k pairing: gn!reader x lee minho song: august by taylor swift mini series: cruel summer // august // betty // cardigan // the 1 a/n: the reader for this is not the same reader for betty or cardigan. this reader is minho’s summer friend.

SO MUCH FOR SUMMER LOVE AND SAYING “US”

This love has been living on borrowed time. You knew that the night you kissed Minho, his lips sticky with the bubblegum bubble you popped. It was a stupid decision, yet he kissed you back.

Kissed you until your lip gloss got lost among the splatter, until the remnants of his strawberry-flavored gum found their way into your mouth, until you both forget how quickly this has to end.

That didn’t seem to matter. Sand dune chats and bottled sunscreen burnished the days golden, pilfered wine and tangled bedsheets left the nights in a thick haze. Walks on the pier became a ritual, and you eagerly waited for him on the bench underneath the streetlight every evening. Whenever he draped his arm across your shoulders, you knew you had him. After many summers of pining, Minho is finally yours.

You throw his duffel bag into the trunk of his parents’ minivan. Suitcases pile on top of one another, and last-minute miscellaneous items have been shoved into tight corners. For the next nine months, his family’s beach house will sit empty and you’ll drive past it every day when you go to school. It’ll be your only connection to him in your hometown.

“You’ll call me, right?” you ask him. “Being busy with a school isn’t an excuse because I know you don’t do homework.”

“I finished all my summer reading. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You groan, eliciting a smile from him. “Call me, okay? I wanna hear all about your fancy high school and your city friends. You never tell me anything. C’mon. It’s not fair at this point.”

“Alright,” he laughs, putting his hands up in defense, “I will. I’ll see you next year.”

Barely audible over the breeze, you say, “I’ll miss you.”

“Here’s something to remember me by then.”

He tosses you a half-empty pack of his signature bubblegum, and you catch it with two hands. You could buy this at any surf shop, but you can’t help but hold it close to your heart. When you wave goodbye to him and his family, the gum burns in your palm, reminding you that he’s still with you. You won’t chew on any of the gum; you’ll leave it in your nightstand drawer, look at it every night, and wonder how why you didn’t kiss Minho sooner.

For two weeks, you wait for him to call you. He sends curt texts every once and while about being busy unpacking or getting ready for his classes, and you reply with updates about your own life. The ice cream parlor’s new seasonal flavors, the mind-numbing chapters you have to read for English, and the seagull you fended off are just a few of the stories you send.

However, you can’t wait forever. You’re so relieved when he picks up.

“Hey! How’ve you been? I missed you.”

Something rustles on his end, muffling his voice. “Hey. Uh, been better, I guess. First week of classes, so you know.”

“Oh, I forgot you start earlier than us. First week isn’t too bad, right? Just syllabi and introductions. So, any plans for a Friday night? If not,” you slyly say, “you can come visit me for the weekend. There’s hardly anyone in town, so we can try all those tourist trap restaurants you wanted to go to.”

“That sounds fun, but I can’t. I'm heading to a party right now, so I’ll call you back?”

You feel yourself wilting but put on a bright voice for him. “Yeah, sure! Tell me everything tomorrow. Have fun.”

He ends the call, and you sink into your mattress. It’s too early to go to bed, but part of you wants to sleep the time away. Instead, you sneak downstairs to the kitchen and pour yourself a cup of red wine. Something light, something to remind yourself of Minho. You scroll on your phone until your eyelids droop and then curl into bed. Your dreams are sweet, ocean waves and Minho kissing you relentlessly.

Even though Minho said he would call tomorrow, your phone vibrates, the name minho lighting up the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, trying to conceal your sleepiness. "How was the party?”

“I got back together with my ex—”

“What?” You didn’t know he had an ex. You never even knew he had dated someone before.

“—so this is it for us. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but the party and—”

You hang up and stare at the ceiling, now fully awake. Tears well up in your eyes and glide down your cheeks when you blink. Your face grows hot. Are you sad? Embarrassed? Angry? You can’t tell, and that somehow makes everything worse. You loved him for ten years and only had him for June, July, and August.

Only for the summer.

‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T MINE TO LOSE.

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bluejaysandblackbats · 4 months

Text

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn't die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Three: Timeout

The on-campus suspension wasn't that bad. It beat riding in the car with Dick. I finally managed to stop crying before we got to the school, so I had enough time to hold the icepack in my lunch to my eyes to look normal again. Mr. Ames sent me straight to the counselor's office anyway. The counselor was new, or I didn't recognize him. I sat down and looked around until he tapped on the desk with his pen. "Hey, Jason, I'm Mr. Finney... Can we talk about yesterday?" he asked. "Short-term memory's shot, but I'll give it a try on one condition," I replied. Mr. Finney nodded. "Can you open that window? I'm feeling shut in." I wasn't joking. I hid it well, but I'd developed claustrophobia from the accident. "Of course," Mr. Finney replied as he opened the window for me. "Would you like the door cracked?" I shook my head. "You were saying?" I asked. "Can we talk about the fight yesterday?" Mr. Finney repeated. I nodded. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. "I should've had better control over my feelings," I mumbled. "Jason, what were you feeling at the time?" Mr. Finney asked. The last thing I wanted to talk about was how I felt. "I was just sick of feeling weak," I answered. It wasn't a lie. I didn't have any reason to lie. That was the last substantial thing I contributed to the conversation. He wasn't bad at his job, not by far. I think he knew I'd be shut off. I'd give him nothing but breadcrumbs. "How long have you been claustrophobic?" Mr. Finney asked.

"I started having symptoms in April," I answered, "It's January now. Nine months."

"Because of the accident?" Mr. Finney questioned. I nodded. I shut my eyes as I recalled what it felt like to be trapped between my mother's body and the debris from the explosion. "Jason?" "I'm done talking. I don't-. I'm sorry," I stammered. Once I had the thought in my head, it took a while to push it back down. I squeezed my hands together to stop them from shaking. "Can I go now?" "Sure, Jason... You can go," Mr. Finney replied, and I walked to the designated campus suspension room. I'd never been back there before. I worked on homework while I was there until the lunch bell rang. Alfred made me two chicken wraps for lunch and a cup of pudding. After lunch, Bruce came to talk to Mr. Ames in person. They had a long conversation that resulted in Bruce taking me home early. "What's wrong?" I asked. Bruce shook his head. "Nothing. I want to know what happened between you and Dick this morning," Bruce whispered. I looked out the window. "You can't pick me up early from school to make me apologize," I replied. "What happened?" Bruce asked once more. I didn't want to talk about it. Maybe I should've. It might've helped. "Fine, but that's not why I picked you up early. I almost forgot we had to reschedule your Wednesday for today." "So, nothing on Wednesday?" I asked.

"Ophthalmologist on Wednesday morning and the optometrist right after, but you'll be there for the second half of school," Bruce replied.

"Are my glasses ready?" I asked. "They should be," Bruce answered. Even after my orbital bone fracture healed, I couldn't see well out of my right eye. "But they also want to see if Monday affected your sight." I grew silent. I knew Bruce wanted me to talk about what happened, but I didn't feel like talking about that. "Is Dick gone?" I asked. "No, he's gonna be here until the end of the week," Bruce replied, "Business..." I rolled my eyes. Business. "Don't be like that," Bruce chastised me.

"Be like what? I'm just peachy," I muttered. I knew Bruce was short with me, and I wanted to push him. I just needed him to snap back. "I have a role to play, Jason," Bruce explained. "You have a lot of roles. Hero, philanthropist, businessman, bachelor... Oh, and an involved father. Guess we both forgot that one, huh, Bruce?" I chuckled. Bruce pulled over on the side of the road and pointed his finger in my face before catching himself. "Hope you enjoyed that. That was your last cheap shot, Jason. I'm serious. You're on thin ice," Bruce warned. I grinned. "I've got tons more, though," I joked. "Enough!" Bruce yelled. I grew silent. "Jason, you've been more insufferable now than you've been in months. I'm sick of it. You have until we get to the doctor's to get it together. I get it. I do," Bruce berated me. He'd finally gotten tired of me pushing him. I didn't expect that to be the last straw, though. I shut my mouth and let him drive me to my appointment. I didn't know what to say to him anyway. I got what I wanted, and it was a hollow victory. I didn't have to see my Wednesday doctor, but Bruce made me go to a pulmonologist twice a month after my lung collapsed again during a bout of pneumonia in October. It was painful. The nurse checked me in and asked me a few questions before sending the doctor in. I sat on the hospital bed, staring at her as she checked my breathing for herself. "You got in a fight. Did you experience any shortness of breath?" she asked. The pulmonologist was no-nonsense, and she quickly got to the point. "Nuh-uh," I replied as she let me pull my shirt down. "What about school? Do you have P.E.?" she asked. I shook my head. "Any concerns or changes?" "Nope," I replied. She nodded. "Okay, what's wrong? Not a single joke?" she questioned. "I've told one too many today," I replied, "And today kind of sucked..." She nodded and sent me out to Bruce. Bruce embraced me as soon as I walked out the door. I would've pushed him away any other day, but I needed it then. I hugged back, and he pulled away. "I love you. I don't say it enough," Bruce whispered.

I walked ahead of him so he couldn't see me crying. He wouldn't start the car when we got to the parking lot. "I'm sorry," I mumbled. "You wanna grab a bite to eat before we go home?" Bruce asked. I nodded. I almost felt like myself again, but it didn't last. There was an explosion down the street, and Bruce left me to sort things out. He parked me outside the restaurant, and I ordered food and sat in the car. All the anger and bitterness I had toward him came flooding back. I ate my food in the car and waited until Alfred came to pick me up. "Master Jason-." "It's fine, Alfred... Can we go home now?" I asked. I don't know. Maybe there was no use in trying.

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 1 year

Note

oh my god borrowing Gareth's clothes AT SCHOOL and vehemently denying that you're dating to the rest of the Hellfire boys!!!

omg this is so cute 😍 especially because i know how easily flustered Gareth would get when he sees you in his shirt 🤭 and i hope you don’t mind i changed it up just a little bit :p it just made it a little easier for me to write 😅 and i apologize for this taking so long 🖤 i liked this ask so much i decided to make this a two part fic 🫣 hopefully the second part will be up within the week

Why Not?!

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @aidansloth @munsonology @esme-viridian

Words- 1.7k

“Dammit!”

You groaned and set down your now half empty can of soda onto the lunchroom table, quickly grabbing the new napkins that were left near you to try and wipe off the sticky liquid that was now covering your entire front.

“Shit, sorry (y/n),” Grant said, getting up and running over to grab you a few more napkins, though it was no use, your light shirt was now stained and sticky and there was no fixing it without having to wash it, “i didn’t mean to have you spill it, that’s totally my bad.”

“It’s fine.” You said with a frustrated sigh.

Accidents happened, you knew Grant would never intentionally mean to have you spill your drink all over yourself, but it was still irritating that you still had the rest of the school day to get through with a dirty sticky mess of a shirt.

You looked up to the rest of the guys at the table,

“Does anyone have an extra shirt or a jacket or anything? I really don’t want to have to wear this for the rest of the day, it’s already soaked and i don’t want to wait until it’s sticky too…”

“I don’t think i do.” Jeff said with a shrug.

“I mean i have my gym uniform but i doubt you’d want to put that shirt on,” Eddie said as he took a bite of his sandwich, “it hasn’t been washed since my first senior year.”

“I’ve got something!” Gareth said as he picked up his pack pack, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a wrinkled up shirt that was no doubt lost at the bottom of his bag for god knows how long, “Here, you can change into this.” He handed you the shirt and you opened it as you held it up, seeing the sharpie drawn logo of their band on the front.

“When did you make this? And why was it in your backpack?” You asked him with a giggle.

“I made it a few months back during study hall but i hated how it looked so i just changed into my gym shirt and kept that one in my bag. I guess i just forgot about it.”

“Well i’m glad you kept it, i’ll be right back.” You got up from the lunch table and quickly ran into the bathroom out in the hall to change into the extra shirt that Gareth thankfully had on him.

Jeff looked at Gareth and nudged his arm,

“Wasn’t that the shirt you told me you were making for (y/n)? I thought you gave it to her already?”

Gareth set his bag back down onto the floor and shrugged,

“I wanted to give it to her, i just never found the right time… Besides, i technically did just give it to her.”

“Yeah but when were you planning on giving it to her in the first place?” Eddie asked him with a laugh, “If it’s been in your bag for that long you must’ve been wanting to give it to her soon.”

“Well… Not necessarily. I’ve had lots of chances to give it to her, i just wanted to wait until the right time but now she has it so it’s fine.”

“What do you mean you’ve had lots of chances?”

The boys looked at him confused, unsure as to what he had meant.

Any time you were with Gareth it was in a group setting, it was rare that the two of you got a moment alone but that’s just how it was for you and the rest of the guys too. Unless you had been secretly seeing each other behind their backs, they weren’t sure if that’s what he was implying.

Gareth shrugged again and looked down at his lunch tray, picking at it with the plastic fork in his hand,

“I don’t know, all those times we were around each other it’s just been in my bag but i just forgot every time. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, it is that big of a deal.” Jeff cut in once more, “If it’s something as little as a shirt why would you have waited so long to give it to her?”

“It’s not!” Gareth laughed, “I just kept forgetting about it alright? I mean, how much stuff is still hanging around in you guys’ bags from months ago? I doubt i’m the only one with useless junk in their backpack.”

“But that’s not useless junk man. You told me the morning you brought it with that you worked on it for hours to make sure the logo wasn’t messed up for (y/n). Not to mention how excited you were to finally have someone wear our merch, and yet she’s getting it now?”

“You’re thinking way too deep into this man,” Gareth laughed again, “I just forgot to give it to her. Simple as that.”

“I don’t believe you.” Eddie said, squinting his eyes at Gareth to look for any signs that he could be lying.

“What’s there to lie about?!”

“I don’t know… But i feel like you’re lying about something. You’re sure there’s nothing going on between you guys?”

“Yes!” Gareth insisted, “I swear to god, there is nothing going on between me and (y/n)! And even if there was, you guys would be the first to know anyways.”

Eddie looked over near the cafeteria doors and saw you finally walk back in from the bathroom, the stained shirt in your hand and the wrinkled up shirt now covering you up.

“Fine, we can just ask (y/n) then.”

You smiled at Gareth as you sat back down at the table, trying to brush out the wrinkles left on the shirt,

“Thanks Gare, i really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no prob-“

“(y/n) are you dating Gareth?” Eddie cut Gareth off quickly and all you could do was stare at him in shock.

“I was gone for five minutes, what the fuck could you have possible been talking about that gave you that idea?”

Eddie shrugged and looked to Gareth like he was somehow the one who started the whole conversation.

“It’s because of the shirt i gave you,” Gareth looked over to you, “i made it for you a couple weeks back and just forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.” You said surprised and looked down at their band logo on the shirt, “I mean it’s cute! Thanks, i didn’t know you made it for me.”

You said to him with a smile and you could see a bit of pink on his cheeks as he smiled back.

“You never answered my question.” Eddie cut in once again.

“What question?”

“Are. You. Dating?”

“No!” You said laughing, “I don’t know why all of a sudden this matters, all he did was give me a shirt!”

“Well…” Eddie said back to you, but he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say back, looking over the rest of the guys at the table but they made sure to keep out of the conversation, “Why not?!”

You giggled at his sudden outburst,

“What?”

“Why aren’t you dating him? He’s great!”

All you could do with giggle at Eddie’s reaction, not sure why all of a sudden something like this mattered so much to him.

“I don’t know why this is so important to you. You seem to be the only person that cares this much about it.”

“Because…” Eddie crossed his arms and stuttered for a few moments just waiting to think of another response for you, “i mean the guy made you a shirt, you should at least be nice enough to take him on a date or something.”

“Oh! Well in that case i’m sure you took Grant out on a date when he got you that jacket didn’t you?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, him and Grant staring at one another before he turned his gave back to you,

“…Yes. Yes, i did.”

“You’re such a liar!” You said laughing.

“Well even if i am, i think you should still go out with him.”

“Will it get you off my ass if i do?”

“Maybe.”

“Fine.” You turned your attention to Gareth, “Gare, what’re you doing on saturday?”

He looked at you and felt the blood rush to his cheeks again,

“This saturday?”

You nodded and smiled, seeing he was getting a bit flustered.

“Nothing.”

“Not anymore. You’re taking me me to the drive in, there’s a new movie coming out this weekend and i want to see it.”

Gareth was surprised at your sudden sternness, but he didn’t mind being told what to do. Having you be so strict made his heart race, and though he always did everything you asked just like the other boys, it was different when it came to this. He was taking you out because you told him to. And he couldn’t wait.

“Yeah, ok. Saturday. Drive in.”

The ring of the bell out in the halls suddenly interrupted your conversation and you stood up from your seat at the lunch table, grabbing your bag off of the floor and shoving your dirtied shirt into it,

“You idiots can continue your stupid conversation by yourselves, i have a test to take.” You slung your bag over your shoulder and walked around the table to Gareth, “You’re picking me up at 7, ok?”

Gareth nodded, a still expression on his face to try and hold back the blush he knew was coming and you smiled seeing how all of a sudden he was listening to every little thing you were saying.

“Good! I’ll make sure to look pretty.”

You leaned down and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before making your way out of the cafeteria and all Gareth could do was sit there in shock.

All his life you’ve been his best friend, someone he felt comfortable around and someone he could trust and just act like himself and now he had to keep himself from blushing and getting flustered around you. Something as small as giving you a shirt had made him realize that maybe he liked you more than he thought he did.

The boys looked at Gareth as he sat there, bright red, silent. Eddie snapped his fingers in front of Gareths eyes to get him out of whatever trance he was stuck in,

“I think she broke him.”

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x female reader #gareth emerson fic #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson fluff #gareth emerson x reader #gareth stranger things #request

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ariisrealities · 25 days

Text

Heyyy guys this is my first post today im going to try to enter the void state with the lullaby method! I’ve been procrastinating for way too long and me,sister and my nephew are about get kicked out our home in 9 days !!! So I will be updating u guys on my progress !!! Please comment any tips for focusing!!!!!!!

Day 1- I listened to some brown noise for 13 mins and laid down in a my regular position (on my side) started affirming not for the void state but that my sister had 10k dollars to pay for the late rent bcuz I felt like I needed to that so we can have stable housing then the void state comes along. i turned the brown noise off and tried to just fall asleep naturally and affirm I feel asleep and I affirmed but not I fall asleep anyways , I kept waking up and I just affirmed and affirmed then at 4 something am I got into sats I think and I said I am in the void state and I am I started feeling symptoms like tingling I can’t really explain it but instead I should’ve kept affirming the thing I was affirming before ( aka my sister has 10k dollars) but thats basically it I’ll keep update of any other resultss ❤️! one more thing I think I’m gonna stay awake until I get very drowsy like half asleep half awake or sats something like that .

Final update: I didn’t get into the void state butttt WE ARE NOTT GETTING EVICTED!!!

Btw I will trying a new method to get into the void state! Im using yoga Nidra! And since I don’t know how to link the posts involved with it. you can look in my liking section it will be there!! I tried the meditation rn and it worked like a charm but I opened my eyes bcuz I forgot I had to affirm so I will be making a journey/progress post rn !!! I have so much faith in this method I know this method is going to work for me like NOTHING I MEAN NOTHING NO ONE CAN TELL ME THIS WONT WORK FOR ME LITERALLY THATS HOW I FEEL STRONGLY AND FIRMLY I AM GOING TO GAVE THAT DREAM LIFE NOBODY CAN TELL ME NOTHINGHGG. 😭a lil moment but yea this works so fast so im def going into the void with method and u can too it’s fast and it’s easy I wasted soo much freaking time on doing nothing and now im fed tf uppp so my plan is to try at 5:00 am before school I get to go to school at 10:00 so I have ALOT of time!!! I been seeing 444 1111 and numbers like that for so long and this is my final push. This is my moment to SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DIAMOND ( in rihannas angelic voice😌💅🏾) I AMM SOOO FREAKING READYYY FOR THIS IM READY FOR A CHANGE NOW I GAVE BEEN SETTLING FOR LESS FOR TOO DAMN LONG I NEEEDDDDD TO ACHIEVE BAD BTCH NOT TAKING SHII FROM ANYONE TYPE GIRL TO COMR OUT OF MEEE! I NEED TO SHIFTT TO MY WR AND MY FAME DR TO GO TO POUNDTOWN WUTH MY VERY WEALTHY SWEET CARING HUSBAND AND I WANT TO SEE MY BABIEESSS IM GOING TO SMUGGLE THEM WHEN I SEE THEM FRFR IM SHIFTING TO THE TIME I WAS 5 MONTHS WITH MYLO (my son the youngest 🥺💙) BROOO IM SOO FLIPPING HAPPY RN ALL HIGH VIBRATIONS ❤️❤️❤️I CAN WAIT TIL I GO INTO THE VOID IM GOING TO TELL U GUYS EVERYTHING RIGHT I SAY WHAT I WANNA MANIFEST IM STRAIGHT SHIFTING TO MY WR INTO FAME DR I HAVE TWO MY MESSY FDR AND MY NORMAL FDR IM GOING THE NORM ONE FIRST. I HAVE SO MANY DRS IM JUST GONNA GO TO MY FDR AND TELL U GUYS SO MANY STORIES BRO IM GOING TO HAVE A FCKING BLAST. LIKE I RLLY NEED THIS BREAK RN (srry for the captions 😭) bcuz i js rlly need to yk get from all the bs happening with my family in general I feel so unappreciated I try my best but it never seems good enough for them. My sister makes me feels like im a burden to her so im js gonna manifest me a dad and leave I’ll still communicate with her I js don’t feel like i want to LIVE with her yk she got my nephew and that’s all she could handle our mother rlly js messed us up. Im js tremendously grateful i stumbled upon manifesting & shifting now i can change my life for the better i can heal finally and truly be myself i can literally travel to any reality to ANYWHERE AND BE ANYTHING I want to. I CAN DO ANYTHING I know I have the power to do it ik it’s within me im going to shoot for freaking stars now.

#void state #manifesting #please help #law of assumption #lullaby #chief keef #manifesation

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 2 years

Text

History of the Wrong Guys

Eddie Munson was gay. You didn't have to be a genius to figure this out. He openly flirted with guys when given the chance and when he was dating someone, he'd get on a table and proclaim to the world (or whoever happened to be nearby) how much he loved whoever the guy he was with at the time. The entire Hellfire club was well aware of his antics, bringing the boy du jour with him and spending more time focused on his boyfriend than the campaign. It might not have been so bad if he didn't have such terrible taste in men.

Gareth had just joined the club half way into his sophomore year when Eddie started showing up with some rando named Scott who looked way too old to be hanging around with a group of highschoolers after school.

"So what school do you go to?" Jeff tried to ask the guy who Eddie was practically hanging off. Scott laughed and waved his hand at the question.

"I haven't gone to school in a long time."

"What? You a dropout or something?" Gareth asked pointedly, ignoring the look of disapproval Eddie shot him.

When Corroded Coffin finally got an official gig at a small dive bar called The Hideout, Scott had been there. Already drunk and obnoxiously cheering as they played. Afterwards he bought Eddie a drink. Way too old to be dating a junior, Gareth and the rest of the band had decided.

Scott lasted about two months before he stopped showing up. Kevin tried to bring the man up once but he was quickly shut down and they never talked about Scott again.

The next guy was a few months later. His name was Tate. He didn't really talk to anyone except Eddie. Hanging around the back of their club room and never saying anything, even when someone talked to him. He was weirdly quiet. Gareth saw him whispering into Eddie's ear whenever someone was around just low enough to not be heard. One of the freshman had come in early to grab a book he forgot when he'd stumbled upon them arguing loudly. The two having a shouting match about Eddie spending way too much time with his stupid club.

After that fight, Eddie stopped showing to their meet ups more and more before disappearing from school all together for a month. His uncle called all of them up after a few weeks asking if any of the had seen Eddie. No one had. It was another month before Eddie showed up again. Stumbling into the ER covered in track marks and bruises according to Mr. Munson. Eddie spent the rest of the semester in the hospital's rehab center. He was held back that year. Gareth remembered the party they threw in celebration of Eddie finally completing his recovery program. No one found out where Eddie disappeared to for those two months. Eddie admitted he barely remembered anything from the time he was gone. Gareth noticed their band's lead singer started taking ceftriaxone when he came back.

Somehow Tate wasn't the worst. It was Eddie's second attempt at his senior year when he started to come to band practice and Hellfire club with the same stupid grin on his face he had when he started to date someone. Kevin was the first to ask him what was up.

"Just some guy."

"What's his name?"

"Can't tell ya."

Whoever it was, he wasn't out. Not surprising. Being out in a small town like Hawkins wasn't easy. Eddie dropped clues here and there about who the guy was. He went to their school and was on the basketball team.

"When you said fuck jocks Eds, you should've told us you meant it literally." Jeff joked during band practice one day, earning a guitar capo being tossed in hus general direction. The guy also had his own car. Driving Eddie places while he waited for his minivan to be fixed but always dropping him off a block away so they weren't seen together by anyone. It was fine, Eddie said.

What wasn't fine was when Eddie started showing up with bruises.

"You get in a fight?" Kevin asked when Eddie showed up with a shiner on his left eye.

"Should've seen the other guy." The black eye lasted a lot longer than it should've. During gym class, when they were getting changed, Gareth noticed a lot more injuries. They looked a lot like hand prints. Usually they were hidden but more and more, they'd been appearing on the metalhead's wrists and neck.

"Are you okay dude?" Gareth leaned against the back of the school's brick wall, watching as Eddie took a drag of his cigarette. The red haired boy's eyes had fixated on Eddie's bruised neck.

"Just a hickey."

"A hickey? Eds, it looks like someone took a chunk out of you."

"Come on Gareth, you know I like it rough." Eddie laughed as he winked at the other boy but Gareth and the others were still on edge. Gareth's mom was the first one to get the call Eddie was back in the hospital. Everyone was worried their dungeon master had relapsed when they went to visit him. Instead they arrived to the hospital room to find Eddie hooked up to a ventilator with Mr. Munson sat next to the bed, his head in his hands. Eddie was a mess. So many cuts and bruises yet he still looked pale, almost dead.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I-I came home and I found him like this." Wayne managed to choke out eventually. "They had revive him twice."

Gareth had never felt more helpless in his fucking life than at that moment. Him and the rest of the Hellfire club had taken rotations to check on him as they waited for him to wake up. All of them knew it was Eddie's shitbag excuse for a boyfriend. Making a silent pact to murder whoever it was if they found out.

Gareth and Kevin had been there when Eddie woke up. It took everything in the shorter teen to not rush over. Both of the boys going over to hug him. Eddie freezing for a moment before he broke down sobbing in their arms.

It had been almost a year when Eddie started to date someone again. Steve fucking Harrington. The instant he started showing up to their games, everyone was on the defense when he was with their dungeon master. Sitting in Eddie's lap during their campaign as all the club's senior members did their best to ignore him.

"Why are you guys so angry at Steve? He's a good guy." Dustin asked as they packed up for the night.

"He's a jock Henderson, they're all the same."

"Lucas is a jock."

"That's different." Gareth snapped.

"How?"

"He's not...you know what, you wouldn't get it."

"Come on dude, just give him a chance. You'll see he's not as bad as he used to be."

"I doubt that."

Gareth was at the game store, looking for a new pair of die when he noticed the couple at the miniature section. Not so subtly sliding behind the collection of poster boards to listen in on the two.

"-but these are pre painted. Wouldn't it just be easier to buy these ones?"

"Yeah but painting is half the fun." Eddie picked up a small plastic figurine. "Besides I need a new barbarian after *someone* crushed my other one with his fat ass."

"Hey I said I was sorry." The former jock apologized as he leaned over and kissed Eddie along the side of his neck. "Maybe I could do something else with this fat ass of mine."

"Oh my God Steve." Eddie laughed as he playfully pushed Steve before returning a quick peck. Gareth faltered as he watched the two. They looked so happy together. The way Eddie's eyes lit up around Steve and how Steve looked at him like he was the center of the universe.

Maybe...Steve Harrington wasn't that bad of a guy afterall.

#stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #eddie x steve #st gareth #tw: abuse #tw: unhealthy relationship #st jeff #st kevin

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i-mean-technically · 2 years

Text

the truck pt. 1

warnings: none

word count: 675

summary: Miko Nakadai

Edit: forgot to give credit for some ideas in this! Thanks @justawannabearchaeologist for brainstorming ideas with me ❤️❤️

what's one more?

It was closer to three in the morning than Miko was comfortable with to be out in this part of town but she didn’t have the option to go anywhere else. She couldn’t go back to her parents in Tokyo, they had all but disowned her when she presented the signed forms of her international transfer. And her hosts had all but packed her bags for her.

She had nothing but her guitar, her duffel, and four hundred US dollars to her name.

It had taken her almost two hours to get to the edge of town on foot, nothing around her but rundown buildings and trash near the half destroyed bus stop. Tears burned her eyes as she dropped her duffel, sitting on it near the edge of the curb.

Her visa was up in less than a month and she has no one else to call to help her. No one that could help her. No friends, no family, the government worked too slowly to provide anything for her to use.

Miko shivered as the wind blew through the buildings around her, whispering in the cold dark. “It’s fine,” she mumbled to herself in an effort to stop the growing fear. “It’ll be fine, you’ve had worse.”

There was nothing but the silence beyond the wind and it ate at her. Silence gave her time to think.

“I want to go home,” she whispered as she curled her knees up to her chest. Miko buried her face in her arms as she lost the fight against the tears.

Time passed strangely to Miko for a while, until she felt like she could face the world again. After wiping her eyes and nose she looked up.

Then screamed profanity and threw herself backwards, toppling off of her duffel and crashing onto the cracked concrete.

A massive semi was parked directly in front of her, so close she could see her warped reflection in the chrome around the edges. She lay sprawled out on her elbows, gaping, as her mind caught up with the sight in front of her.

“What-how-,” Miko scrambled upright, fear flashing through her about the horror stories her parents told her about what happens to little foreign girls in America before a different thought came through.

It was something she had heard from some of the kids at school, a little Hispanic boy with wild hair and thick-rimmed glasses and a teen with raven dark hair. They were the only ones to talk to her like she was a person and not gawk at her like she was a monkey at the zoo. They had told her about a local legend they called The Truck that only the kids knew about.

About how he protected the kids in Jasper.

About how kids with bad home lives suddenly disappear for a few days, then turning back up with smiles and new clothes and packed lunches and restraining orders against their former families that the kids themselves enforce with tasers.

Jasper, Nevada didn’t have a single homeless person under twenty-five.

Because The Truck took them home.

At least, that’s what the kids here believed. Miko always thought it was just something that they told themselves to keep this dead city interesting.

But with this huge long hauler semi truck sitting quietly in front of her Miko started to believe.

“What the fuck,” she breathed, feeling frozen to the spot.

“Are you in need of aid, youngling?” A deep voice asked. It came from the truck.

Miko blinked. “What?”

“Do you require assistance?”

He sounded like a walking dictionary, but…

It had been so long since someone had asked that genuinely. Miko had to blink a few times to keep herself from crying again, staring at the huge tires less than a foot from her. Once she had herself under control she glanced up to the driver to answer.

A gasp ripped from her throat and she took a step back, stumbling over her duffel and hitting the ground again.

There was no driver.

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wrenreid · 2 years

Text

Off Limits

content warnings: daddy issues, mentions of losing someone, talk about being drunk

Part Seven

After Spencer leaves, Dad sits down on the couch with me. I can tell he’s tired, but he doesn’t want to go lay down since he just got home. Especially not when he knows we won’t have much time together.

Dad turns on the tv and we watch a show we used to stay up late all the time watching. My mom used to scold him for letting his seven year old daughter stay up past 11pm to watch tv.

But I think she secretly liked when we bonded like that. He was still a young lawyer who dove into his job for hours and hours. He was home a lot more than when he started at the BAU though.

I lean my head on his arm, my legs bent underneath and to the side of me as I lean on my dad. As irritating as his overbearing protectiveness and slight control issues are, I like being with my dad when I’m home.

To spite my father, I’ve become a sort of social butterfly who goes to parties. I say ‘spite’ because I wasn’t allowed to hang out with guys let alone go to parties when I was in high school. Now that I’m 21, I can do what I want. And I’ve made that pretty clear.

I think a part of him believes that he’s lost his little girl once I went off to college, and he couldn’t be that overprotective father anymore.

I also think he somewhat resents me for that, just like I resent him for not being there enough… and for Foyet, but for months and months I’ve tried not to blame him. And I don’t. I really don’t. But that doesn’t keep me from being pissed.

Whatever unresolved, unspoken issues Dad and I have, we can still sit on the couch and bond over tv. We can still ignore the shit we have underneath the surface, and be okay.

About an hour later, Jack comes down the stairs asking if he can have a snack. He stops dead in his tracks when he sees it’s our dad on the couch and not Spencer.

“Daddy!” He smiles and runs up to us, crawls into Dad’s lap, and hugs him.

“Hey, little man,” Dad laughs softly, holding onto my little brother.

I smile at the interaction, but can’t help but think that I’m a little jealous at their interaction. Jack is his baby now.

But then I remember that I had a childhood where Dad wasn’t in the BAU. I had my mom growing up. Jack doesn’t have that. And even though it hurts so bad when I think too much about it, I’m able to have happy memories of Mom to look back on. My little brother will soon forget all about her because he’s so young. I don’t have a right to be jealous.

I’m snapped out of my gut-scrambling thoughts when Dad looks at the two of us. “How about we go to Jaleo tonight?”

A small grin creeks up on my face. That’s one of my favorite restaurants. “I’d love that,” I tell him.

“What do you say, Jack?”

“Sounds good to me,” he nods.

After a little bit , I head upstairs to take a shower. I still haven’t washed the sweat and lingers of alcohol off of my skin from the party.

I step into the walk in shower and shut the glass door. The glass was made in a pattern that makes it too blurry to see inside the shower, so if anyone walked in, which they wouldn’t, they would just see a peachy colored blob.

Luckily, even though I forgot to bring home my shampoo and conditioner from college, I still have some left over from when I was home after Mom’s death. I grab the death shampoo and lather it my hair, rinse, repeat, then condition. I use soap and body wash, then step out of the shower, doing a little shuffle dance to dry my feet on the rug.

After getting dressed in jeans, a big graphic tee, and hightops, I brush my still slightly damp hair from my shower two hours ago and go downstairs to meet Dad and Jack who are already ready to go eat dinner.

From the front seat of my Dad’s car, I play them music. My dad doesn’t appreciate half of my music taste, so I play them my more appropriate playlist.

I sing along to the lyrics, and out of the corner of my eye I see my father smile.

“I missed you, Jay,” he says.

One syllable names are hard to find a nickname for, but that didn’t stop my dad from shortening my name to just the first letter sometimes.

“I missed you too, Dad,” I grin softly.

The three of us walk into the restaurant, and we’re seated at a table for four towards the back of the restaurant. The seat next to my father is empty. It’ll be empty from now on. I can hardly stand to look at it.

I think he feels the same way because he focuses his attention of us. “How’s school going?”

“Same as always,” I tell him. “So pretty good.”

He nods. “Good.”

And that’s about as interesting as this conversation gets. He asks me if Jack was good for Dr. Reid, and I say yes.

I try to ignore the way him bringing up Spencer makes me feel. It’s a little warm in my stomach. Just a crush. A maintainable crush that won’t go any further than it did when I was 17. Hopefully not even that far.

Plus, I’ll be back in New York City in a week and forget about the silly little crush just like I did the first time I left for college.

Jack tells Dad what we did while he was away, and I’m lost in thought about going back to college. I’ve got about two months left of undergrad, then three more years of law. But if I take courses during the summers, I could get it knocked out in two or two and a half.

Our food comes out pretty quickly, and I start chowing down. I haven’t eaten anything but the toast Spencer forced me to eat this morning before I went back to sleep.

“Looking a little hungry there, Jade,” my father laughs softly.

“Starving,” I say with a mouth full of my Spanish dish.

Jack convinces Dad to get us ice cream after dinner, and we go to my favorite Italian ice cream shop. I think my father is taking us to my favorite places to make up for not being here the whole first week I was back.

That’s usually how it went when I was a kid too. He’d miss something important and bring me home a gift or treat. My mother hated when he did this, but he did it out of guilt. And even though I was young, I knew this. So, to make him happy, I smiled and excepted the gift and pretended all was made up for. But it wasn’t because I wanted my daddy, not a new stuffed animal.

We’re back home eventually, and Dad is putting Jack to bed. I’m on the couch, the tv on.

“You’re not setting a good example for him coming home late from parties,” my dad says as his footsteps descend down the stairs.

“What?”

“I’m not blind, Jade. I know what a hangover looks like.” His voice is stone hard as always.

“He was asleep when I got home. I’m 21 years old. I’m allowed to get drunk ever so often.”

“Just because you’re allowed to doesn’t mean you should. You know what can happen if you drink too much and are too inebriated to keep yourself safe.”

“Nothing happened. People go to parties and get drunk all the time,” I say, getting annoyed. “And don’t you dare say that those people aren’t your daughter because I don’t care. I can fend for myself; you of all people know that.”

“I do know that. But I also know how people can be. Especially men your age,” he said.

“Is this coming from a profiler’s point of view or the point of view of a man who’s looked at a pretty girl the way you fear men look at me?” I ask, my jaw set.

“Excuse me?”

I ignore his anger, and ask another question. “Are you worried I’m going to get murdered or are you worried I’m going to do the thing that you’ve feared me doing since I hit puberty? I’m an adult, Dad. You can’t control every aspect of my life anymore.”

Before he opens his mouth to respond, I get up and leave for my room. It seems as though we can never just have a normal interaction for very long.

eight

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 <3

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