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#need this on my dash for now. god i love them so much
taegularities · 1 year
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and i can't imagine life without bts anymore
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feywildfox · 2 years
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Mm i left bandom space a long long time ago. I mean I'm not that old but ten years ago is still pretty long. And frankly if i overstep lemme know.
Honestly at this point i shouldnt be surprised so many people are actually still inherently racist towards Ray, but also i think, i should be. Because i genuinely expected better from mcr bandom, but again, left bandom spaces a decade ago...
It's pretty sad? Like. I'll admit, I didn't realize Ray was actually a man of colour when i was younger. I think i realized right around the time i left at 15 or so. Which also really goes to show that racism towards him and making him seem as white as possible which definitely i think was a thing. Like in comparison, I knew pete wentz was mixed long before i figured out Ray was a poc. It says a lot about the space at the time and i had honestly thought it'd be better now.
I've loved mcr for years, but i havent been IN love with them for a while. It happens, relationships and feeling wax and wane. But this tour, the excitement and love recently ignited in not just Gerard with all their gender fuckery, but the whole band, has brought a love and joy back into my life for music that hit me in the heart as a preteen and teenager.
And none of that would be possible without Ray Toro putting his all into the feelings and conveying of in his music. Mikey made the band, but ray MAKES the band. He is absolutely fucking integral and it is disgusting & disheartening to see him treated such a way. What the fuck even, hearing that streamers are zooming in on frank during Rays solos?? Like do the fuck better? I'm honestly disappointed as fuck in that shit. Like I know this whole thing is a little disjointed stream of consciousness type post but really. White people do better challenge! Its literally SO fucking easy. The real camera guys are RIGHT THERE showing what to fucking do!
You can love the others as much as you want but jesus fuck give Ray the same fucking courtesy. Stop ignoring your racism, start recognizing the issues that plague you from being white and growing up in white privilege. I sure as fuck still have plenty of shit to work on but at least i can say i can do the bare fucking MINIMUM of giving Ray Toro the respect and attention he absolutely fucking deserves.
Like I do hope this is understood I am not trying to speak over anyone but simply say from one white to another: you need to do better. If that's how you treat a member of supposedly one of your fav bands, i genuinely fear for the poc you encounter in your life. The harm you cause by staying blind may be incremental but it builds up until it's a mountain. Do fucking better.
#not the picturesque emo#fans#its 1 am so this is not. the modt coherent thing but i hope it gets the point across as someone who has been outside of bandom space#i mever realized how big an issue it was but honestly i should have known#im not going point at myself as a pure example of what to do because honestly ive loved mcr from a distance for a while#i have always loved them all but literally its ridiculous coming back ten years later#and finding out that yeah no. rays apparently or whatever the fuck#like uh what. emo is a style#its a sounds a love language a voice for people an expression#sure there are certain clothes or jewelry or makeup that can play into it but NONE of that actually means shit#because it can be turned corpo and ripped up and spat back all sanatized. ray is emo. ray is a man of colour. he's a rock god on the guitar#NONE of that is mutally fucking exclusive! ray toro is just as important as anyone else in the band#ray toro deserves SO much respect and he does NOT deserve to have people claim they are of mcr then treat him like that#you are not an mcr fan you are a pretentious racist asshole who needs to check ther privileges at the fucking gate thank you#fox squawks#im tired and angry now and im sorry to all the poc in the fandom who have to deal w this on a constant basis you all deserve a lot better#im sure yall feel way worse than i do and i genuinely hope people can realize the shit theyve been doing.#i am always happy to go toe to toe w other dumbass white ppl and call them out on their bs#i dont see it because i curate my dash to the point drama is usually a mild breeze at best but i am more than willing to#weaponize my whiteness to force other white ppl to think. if you gotta point me at em do it idc. like a lil attack chihuahua or something.#idk#im lagging now but my fingers dont want to stop typing bc i am nervous abt posting this but yknow. whatever if i fuck up i learn & move on!#we Do Not succumb to white guilt we gracefully say im sorry for that thank you for pointing it out even though you didnt have to i know its#exhausting to do constantly i will keep that in mind and then we do! and we modify our behavior! and we DO. BETTER
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strang3lov3 · 2 months
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Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
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Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
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From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
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lynk-zee · 22 days
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Evol is Love Spelled Backwards
Synopsis: In which whilst fighting Heartbreaker, they get smacked in the face by their newest love spell which makes them impossibly gobsmacked over the person they love. PRE-RELATIONSHIP
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Seeing Zayne on a hospital bed instead of a patient was a sight no one expected to see. But he was acting weird. Way weird. After getting smacked in the face by Heartbreaker, his temperature spiked, his face flushed, and his heart rate seemed to rocket whenever he’s not near you. So, as the doctor checks him out, Zayne’s glassy eyes are glued to you, as if the moment he looked away you’d disappear forever. He holds your hands tightly, never wanting to let go. After the checkup, the doctor said the side affects would disappear within a few hours. When he left, Zayne yanked you onto the bed, onto his lap, pinning you to his chest. He looked up at you with a lovesick expression.
Zayne: Are you hurt…
MC: Me? You’re the one who blocked the attack…
Zayne: Of course… I love you… And I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever.
You flushed, not expecting that at all. Sure, you’ve both danced around the subject, sharing affections, but…
MC: Wait until you’re sober to tell me that…
Zayne: Does it matter? I’ve felt this way my entire life…
You’re sure he can feel the way your heart races. Like a sixth sense. He gives you an absolutely lovesick smile and leans up to nuzzle your nose with his. Even under this spell, your comfort and safety comes first.
When Zayne comes to, he’s slightly embarrassed by the whole ordeal but rolls with it anyways.
Zayne: Not exactly how I pictured that, but— would you like to go on a proper date with me?
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Oh boy. Rafayel’s already clingy as it is. Imagine him getting smacked in the face with Heartbreaker’s love letter spell? Absolutely horrible. Thomas had to cancel his event with how insufferable and whiny Rafayel was acting. And god forbid you leave his side for even a second— How dare you!
Rafayel: Just say you hate me and want me to die!
MC: I don’t see what the big deal is. I just need to—
Rafayel: NO!
Rafayel sprung to his feet on wobbly legs. He can’t hold himself up, so he falls into your arms like a dainty princess. Lucky for him, you’re too lost in the impossible colors in his eyes to chastise him. With flushed cheeks, he furrows his eyebrows in a cute glare and tells you how he feels.
Rafayel: I don’t want you to leave me ever! I want you to stay by my side.
MC: I can only do so much as your bodyguard—
Rafayel: *shakes his head* Not as my bodyguard! As my soulmate!
Your heart stopped. Did he mean it? Like, really mean it? Rafayel always flirted with you, but you always took it in good jest, secretly wishing it was real. But now…
When Rafayel sobers up, he grabs your hand, gently cradling your face.
Rafayel: I meant it you know… Every single word… Let me take you out on a date. Just me and you…
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Writing this report to Jenna was going to be tricky. I mean, how do you tell your boss that the strongest hunter on the team was completely inebriated by a love spell? Xavier, being the dashing and heroic hunter you knew, stepped in front of you as Heartbreaker unleashed their newest spell. The force of nature that was your partner has been reduced to a pile of goop clinging onto your shoulder like his life depended on it. As you walked him up to his apartment, you had to fight down the burn in your cheeks as he complimented the smell of your hair and the new lipstick you bought. He was close. Too close.
MC: Alright, Xavier. Here we go. Just give me your keys and you’ll be home safe and sound— WAH!
Xavier had unlocked the door for you and fell in, bringing you down with him. You landed on his chest with an oof, concerned on whether or not he hit his head.
MC: Are you okay?!
As you felt around the back of his head for any bumps, his arms around you tightened, pinning you to his chest. You flushed, your noses almost touching. His eyes linger on your lips, a hand going up to play with your hair as he hummed.
Xavier: I’m okay…
MC: Aha… That’s good. Um, could you let me up now.
He furrowed his brows with a serious glint in his eyes.
Xavier: No.
MC: But I need to—
Xavier: You don’t need to do anything. Not without me. We’re partners—
MC: Yes… Work partners—
Xavier: For life.
Woahhhh. He hasn’t even asked out on a date yet at that point. When he comes to, he’s genuinely confused by what he had just admitted to you. But he wasn’t going to back down.
Xavier: That wasn’t how it went in the books I’ve read but… Do you want… To go out sometime?
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
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Synopsis: A new lieutenant comes to your base—a hot one. Ghost isn’t happy.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,334
Notes:
I haven’t thought of a title, so I’m replacing it with a picture of Ghost’s expression that perfectly captures the fic’s concept. Let me know if you think of one.
Platonic fluff, duh.
Warning: Lots of swearing ahead of you, British slang as well. Told you, he’s not happy.
UPDATE: there’s a Part 2 now. Things get messy.
Want more?
———————————————————————
The rumour mill went into overdrive as soon as the ‘new guy’ arrived at the military base that morning. A former special ops legend with impressive credentials; what’s not to love?
But it wasn’t just his military skills that had everyone talking; it was also his appearance. Rumours of his Adonis-like looks had spread throughout the base, and everyone was dying to catch a glimpse of him. Even the mess hall was dominated by talk of his stunning looks.
What did you think of him? Well, you prefer to take such things with a grain of salt and not put too much stock in them. After all, beauty is a matter of personal preference, and no single definition applies to everyone. So you wanted to evaluate things for yourself.
Okay, fine. Yes, the rumours were true—the guy is exactly as they described him.
The new lieutenant stands tall and proud in front of the line you’ve all formed, his wavy hair coiffed into a deep side part with a thick fringe swooping over one eye. His chiselled jawline is accentuated by a short, perfectly groomed beard, and he gives everyone a brilliant smile as if he’s auditioning for a toothpaste commercial. His voice is booming and almost comically enthusiastic as if he were trying to engage a class of children. He gives orders by pointing at soldiers with gun fingers and winking, causing some of you to stifle giggles.
“All right, soldiers, pay attention!” he says, clapping his hands like a cheerleader. “Today’s tasks are routine: cleaning, organizing, equipment repair, and inventory taking. And, hey, if we pull this off, I’ll buy everyone a round at the local pub! How does that sound?”
Some of the soldiers exchange skeptical glances, wondering if this guy is for real.
But Ghost? Oh. My. God.
Ghost’s agitation becomes too hard to hide as the new lieutenant speaks. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, moving frantically as if eager to be anywhere but here. His eyes keep rolling back as though they’re searching for some leftover patience in the depths of his skull. You keep staring at his crossed arms. They’re so stiff that his muscles must ache from the effort. It’s as if he’s trying to keep them in place, so he doesn’t unleash them and back-slap the hot lieutenant’s pretty face. That, or he’ll let out a primal scream any second now.
“Y/N,” he turns to face you, and you stand at attention, “you’re on border patrol with me today-”
“Y/N is staying with me at the office today,” Ghost opposes him. “There’s a lot of paperwork that needs to be done.”
“Can’t you get someone else to fill out the paperwork?” the man asks, shooting Ghost a wink and a grin.
“Can’t you get someone else to help you with border patrol?” Ghost winks back at him and turns to face you. “Y/N, on your feet, c’mon,” he says, walking towards the building.
You exchange glances with the new lieutenant and shrug. This is too awkward.
“WHENEVER YOU’RE READY, SOLDIER,” Ghost commands, and you dash towards him, brushing past the new lieutenant, who also happens to smell amazing. Of course, he does.
“What the fuck is wrong with you today, Lt.?” You whisper as you run behind him, “where’s the camaraderie we discussed during yesterday’s briefing?”
Ghost shoots you a glare over his shoulder. “Just trying to keep my paperwork safe,” he mutters.
“What’ll happen to the damn paperw-” you proceed to ask, but then evaluate his words; you’re the paperwork.
At the office…
He’s reticent as he sits on his desk—not like he’s a social butterfly any other day, but today, he seems angry. Almost hostile. His eyebrows are tied together, his restless leg syndrome is back, and he takes too many cigarette breaks compared to what you’re used to. He answers your questions with one-word statements when—and if—he acknowledges your presence. Yesses and nos are all you’ve been getting since you entered the office, with the occasional “tsk” he might utter while he looks at his papers.
“Pass me the stapler.” He commands.
“Magic word, Ghost.”
“Pass me the fucking stapler, please.”
You slide the stapler over to his desk. “You’re rude today, Mr Riley.” You comment, turning your focus back to the laptop’s screen.
He doesn’t reply in the form of words. Instead, his feelings manifest themselves by aggressively stapling the papers together.
“Perhaps you’d like me to ask for the stapler by winking at you?” He finally mutters under his breath.
“Like the guy that came in today?” You scoff.
Oh, you have his full, undivided attention now. He turns his chair towards you and leans his weight on his thighs as if you’re about to tell the most exciting story.
“What do you think of him?” He asks.
You flick your wrist dismissively. “I don’t know him well enough to form an opinion. I prefer to reserve judgment until I get to know someone.” You give him a pointed look, hoping to convey your message without having to spell it out for him.
“He’s a fucking bellend, I’ll tell you that much.” He mumbles in response. Guess the message got lost in transit.
“Come on, man!” You shout and punch your fist on the table, “it’s obvious that he’s got you rattled.”
“He’s not rattling me!” Ghost protests, but his defensive tone betrays him.
“Sure, he’s not,” you reply sarcastically, “that’s why you’ve been chain-smoking and stapling papers like you’re trying to murder them.”
Ghost lets out a deep sigh and rubs his temples.
“Is it his looks?” you ask.
“No, it’s not his looks,” Ghost rolls his eyes, “I’m much better looking than him, that’s for sure.”
“Are you...I don’t know, intimidated, maybe?” You shrug, “because you’re worried he might take your place as the top dog around here?”
He looks at you incredulously. “What are you talking about? I’m not worried about that.”
“Sure, you’re not,” you smirk. “That’s why you’ve been acting like a total jerk all day.”
He looks up and sighs. The poor man looks like he desperately needs an ego boost. Beneath Ghost’s tough facade there’s Simon, after all. And Simon is a human being with the same insecurities and worries as everyone else.
“In any case,” you say, trying to comfort him, “nobody takes such douchebags seriously in the army. And I get it; the guy’s trying to make a good impression and all, but, my God, he needs to chill with all the...” you start winking and pointing gun fingers left and right.
He’s so happy he lets out a sharp chuckle. “He’s a fucking nobhead, isn’t he?” He asks, “trying to take charge and acting like he knows everything.”
“Indeed,” you reassure him, “and that cologne, I almost fainted as I passed him; how could you stand beside him for so long?”
“Don’t ask.” He shakes his head.
You reach over and give his arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it, Ghost. You’re the most respected operator here,” you say, giving him a small smile, “just do me a favour and give the guy a chance; he has so much to learn from you.”
He nods. “I wanted to neck slap him so hard,” he mumbles, “knock his pretty white teeth out.”
“Which are fake, by the way.”
“Are they?” He asks, shocked.
“100%.” You reply with conviction as if you are the guy’s dentist.
“I knew it.” He yells, slaps his hand on his thigh, and turns his chair back to his desk.
You look at him from the corner of your eye. He seems much more relaxed now. Hopefully, he takes your advice to heart and proceeds with the same resilience and leadership he does on the battlefield. Or, maybe, you temporarily diffused a potential conflict, and the captain will have to get involved pretty soon. Who knows. At least he feels confident in himself now, and the guy’s teeth will live to see another day.
———————————————————————
Part 2 ->
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visualbutterflysworld · 5 months
Text
Drunk Vinnie | Vhackerr
Warning: vinnie being drunk and clingy
might make a part 2. idk
“I need to text my girl. I want my girl.” Vinnie whined as he leaned onto Jack. “She’s right there Vin.” Jack laughed as he pointed to you, who was preoccupied by ordering a Uber. “That’s….that’s not her! I’m texting Y/n right now.” Vinnie huffed before pulling out his phone. He pulled in his bottom lip. He squinted his eyes trying to successfully type correctly.
In his mind he thought he texted, baby where are you? I miss you!
Instead he actually texted, “biby here ure uuuu( iiiii muss youuu &&”
You chuckled as you read the text before going back to what you were doing. “Why won’t she text me back!? DID SHE DIE?! JACK CALL THE COPS!” Vinnie yelled when he did see those three bubbles pop up. “Vinnie, stop yelling.” You rubbed his arm, trying to sooth him. “No! Who are even you?! I have a girlfriend, lady!” Vinnie quickly gave you a dirty look.
“I am your girlfriend, Vinnie.” You laughed. “No! You don’t look like my Y/n. My pretty Y/n. Where’s my pretty Y/n?” Vinnie’s bottom lip begins to tremble. “Okay, Vinnie, let’s get you home.” You say, “Jack. Help? Uber’s here.” Jack nods before you and him put Vinnie’s arm over your shoulders.
“Y/n! I love Y/n so much! She’s so pretty!” Vinnie yells as you guys walk outside. “Vinnie, shhh.” Jack said. “Jack-o’-lantern, you just don’t understand.” Vinnie lays his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Yeah, man. Here. In you go.” Jack shakes his head before helping you put vinnie in the car.
After a short 15 minute drive you guys are back at your house, knowing Vinnie will be too loud for his apartment. “Honey! I’m home!” Vinnie yells as he stumbles into the house. You shake your head before shutting the door and locking it. “Do you want some water?” You ask. “Yeah, that sounds great random person. Hey, this place looks at lot like my girlfriend’s house?” Vinnie scans the room.
You quickly dash and get him some water. Once he’s handed the glass, the water is gone in a matter of seconds. “Let’s get you to bed.” You say before grabbing his hand. “Okay, but nothing is happening between us! No funny business lady or I’ll tell Y/n!” Vinnie tells you. It was honestly so cute, seeing Vin miss you even though you were there.
Once you reach the bedroom, Vinnie wastes no time collapsing on the bed. “Mm. So comfy.” A happy lazy smile on his face. You take his shoes off and his socks knowing he hates sleeping with his socks on. “Y/n is the best. Do you have a Y/n?” Vinnie asked as you unbuckled his belt. “Sorta. Expect he’s a guy.” You say before pulling his pants down and throwing them somewhere. “That’s good. What’s his name?” Vinnie ask as you pull him to sit up. “Arms up.” You say.
Vinnie puts him arms up and strikes a pose while doing so. You laugh softly before pulling it off as well. Sober vinnie would thank you because he gets hot to easily in his sleep. “The guy! His name!” Vinnie says before falling back. You don’t know how but he somehow knew he wasn’t under the covers so he quickly places himself underneath.
“Vinnie. His name is Vinnie.” You say before grabbing a t shirt to sleep in. “What!? That’s my name! My name is Vinnie!” Vinnie yells. “I know that, Vin.” You quickly toss your hair in a low bun before sliding in bed. “I never asked but, what’s your name?” Vinnie says. “It’s y/n.” You laugh before moving a piece of hair out his face. Vinnie’s face scrunched before his eyes went wide.
“Wait a minute! You’re Y/n! My Y/n! Oh my God! When did you get here baby?!” Vinnie quickly rushes into your arms. You laugh, “I’ve been here the whole time Vin.” “Nuh uh! That other lady was here! I swear.” Vinnie nuzzles his head in your neck. You lay back so that you can both rest comfortably. “Whatever you say, Vin.” You message his head.
“I love you Y/n. Promise to never leave me like that again?” You smile before slowly closing your eyes. “I love you too. I promise to never leave you again.” You feel Vinnie smile and it isn’t long before the both of you are passed out into a bliss.
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elmhat · 6 months
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DSMP TUMBLR SIMULATOR
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🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow
On vacation! Check out the fancy hotel :)
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🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
gufys please mass report this he's trxying to fucking dox me and also kill me pls guys
7 notes
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❌ god Follow
I just finished writing my latest book! To thank everyone who stuck with me through this process, I'm giving away one copy to a random follower! All you have to do is reblog 😊
#bookblr #writeblr
2,963,086,652,755 notes
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🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
Anyone know where the boomerville residents went?
🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow
No one replied so I guess I own their house now
3 notes
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🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow
.
#I'm actually so sick of these mfs #no joke if I have to spend another day around these people I might kms #one more comment about how "evil" he is and I'm gonna snap #I can't believe I used to be friends with them? #they're so bloodthirsty for no reason #sorry just needed to vent #can't say any more than this or I'll blow my cover #neg
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🧁 the-girl-who-burned-your-tree Follow
New strawberry cake recipe! (Safe for pigs)
Try out this delicious dessert that all the family can enjoy!
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Keep reading
#baking #recipes #I just wanted to make something that my friend can eat too #he has some rather unique dietary requirements
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🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow
"average person destroys 1 government a year" factoid actually just statistical error. average person destroys 0 governments per year. technoblade is an outlier and should not have been counted
💿 fuckdream123 Follow
this is so fuckign disrespectful to doomsday survivors take this down you egotesticle fkng prick
45,687 notes
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🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow
@warden-of-the-vault How's idiotville idiot
🟩 escapedwarcriminal Follow
Wait you can't reply cause you're in IDIOTVILLE
5 notes
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🪶 philzaminecraft Follow
My good friend has entrusted me with looking after his lovely dogs, haha! 😂 Do any of you fine young people have advice for me as to how to take care of this many hungry hounds? 🤔 I look forward to hearing from you.
From Philza Minecraft.
P.S. Please also instruct me as to how to increase the number of messages I receive in response to my questions. This internet website is a tad confusing. I had enough bother attaching the photograph. 😂
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89 notes
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🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow
woke up to the dash full of drama again. sigh
🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
fucking Die
🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow
oh so you're the one sending all the anon hate
🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
i don't send anon hate i'll hate to your fucking face bitch
🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow
please go out with me
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🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow
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🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow
But fr guys, as much as we're memeing around in the tags dream is actually out there and he's dangerous. If you see him call me or sam immediately. DON'T fight him. You'll /gen die.
6,210 notes
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🐈 antthecatmaid Follow
won't be around for a while, going on vacation!
🐈 antthecatmaid Follow
fuck I'm back fuck fuck fuck
27 notes
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💿 fuckdream123 Follow
i'm too sad to commit terrorism like what's the fucking point anymore
6 notes
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🧨 zombiepresident1 Follow
World's First NFT Burgers
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(Ignore the poor photo quality, my good camera got confiscated by authorities)
"An explosion of the senses, and I don't just mean that time the place exploded!" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
"So much better than Quackity's horrible grimy SHIT FUCKING RESTAURANT" ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
#reviews are all from verified sources #don't look into it #someone blaze this I have no money
204 notes
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✨ quirky-cake-duper-teleporter Follow
Genuinely fuck dream.
✨ quirky-cake-duper-teleporter Follow
Ignore this I wasn't in my right mind
16 notes
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🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow
The Teletubby and the Pig
Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Technoblade, Dream (me and my friend) Additional Tags: Pandora's Vault Prison, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort
Summary: idk man I'm bad at summaries, just something I wrote with my friend to pass the time (he was too embarrassed to post it)
284k words so far
-> Read here!
#I actually wrote this a while ago but I wasn't allowed to post it for legal reasons #don't worry though I'm planning to murder the legal reasons soon #writeblr #original fiction
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💍 im-from-the-future Follow
WARNING - PLEASE READ
My murderer showed up at my house today. Police refused to arrest him. I feel sick to my stomach, I don't know where he is or what he's doing, if he comes back I have no way to protect myself. Please stay vigilant and don't trust anyone you don't know.
🥕 catsncarrots Follow
i'm so sorry to hear that karl :( hey what's the new pfp?
💍 im-from-the-future Follow
No idea
43 notes
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🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow
we all accepted the prison way too quickly. there's like no safety measures? are we forgetting someone DIED THERE? and i've literally seen the main cell myself and it's a mess. pretty sure there was some real blood on the walls too. idk just doesn't feel right
🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow
I'm tired of people reblogging posts like this without checking their sources. There are some obvious red flags here. For starters, op claims they've witnessed the main cell personally, but if you actually check the prison's rules, visits have been banned for several months now [x]. The prison is armed with state of the art security measures, including lava, barriers, and numerous manual searches, to name just a few [x]. Speaking as an authority on the prison myself [x], I can safely confirm that these security measures, as well as the prisoner, are in perfect condition. Don't be so quick to buy into conspiracy theories.
🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow
I LITERALLY WORK THERE????
🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow
Not anymore you don't.
972 notes
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841 notes · View notes
gay-dorito-dust · 5 months
Note
Okay wait! Luke and y/n sneaking out of their cabins to go to their hiding spot to watch the stars while kissing and cuddling.
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Being a Demi-god didn’t allow for you to experience many of the oftentimes mundane or meaningful moments in life, especially when you were thrusted into life threatening quests for godly parents that probably didn’t care to even remember any of your or your half siblings names; never less remember to claim them unless it proved beneficial for their own agenda.
However there was one exception to this answer his name was Luke Castellan. The goddess Aphrodite must’ve took pity on you by sending the charming and dashing son of Hermes your way, allowing you to befriend and then later on, fall in love with him and you’ve never been more happier then you were whenever you were with Luke Castellan.
Or Golden Boy as you’ve playfully called him, much to his dismay but the small smile that’d tug at lips told you otherwise.
As ironic as it might sound but any moment you got with Luke felt like pure magic with the way they make your insides grow homely and warm like a hearth, warming you throughout your entire body as your face was stuck in a perpetual state of dopey and lovesick.
Tonight was no different then any other night as you and Luke -hand in hand- ventured from the beds of your respective cabins and began making your way towards the lake all the while poorly concealing your bouts of laughter, some would manage to slip out now and then but you couldn’t help it! It had been awhile since you and Luke had some time to spend together, especially not without your siblings and or friends coming to get either of you to settle some disputes, and then not see each other until you were all called to the dinning pavilion; but even then you were seated at your tables, still unable to see each other.
To say that this moment was long overdue for both of you was the understatement of the century.
‘I don’t think that I’ll ever get over how beautiful the stars really are.’ You told Luke in awe, completely captivated by the starry sky that hung over camp.
‘That’s what I always say to myself whenever I get to see you.’ Luke says as he then drew your back until you were was fully pressed against his chest, solely for the fact that he could comfortably put his head upon your shoulder and rest his cheek to yours, humming in content when satisfied with the end result.
You snorted, readjusting the blanket you had brought with you to keep warm from the cold breeze that would occur every so often. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do golden boy.’ You chuckled upon hearing Luke groan dramatically, only to then squeal in surprise when you felt him burrow his head into your neck, the ends of his hair kissed your skin with the weight of a feather while his own lips coated your neck in kisses of his own before stoping. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of calling me that? Golden boy?’ He asks and you moved your head to press a kiss against his hair. ‘Nope,’ you chirped, pressing another kiss but this time to his nose when Luke lifted his head from your neck to look you in the eye, ‘I for one think it suits you.’ You added, flashing him a cheeky smile.
‘I do often think about you, you know, in the same way you spoke about the beauty of the stars just now.’ Luke confessed and you felt your breath catch in your throat.
‘I didn’t say any-‘
‘You didn’t need to.’ Luke cuts you off. ‘I’d like to think the reason I know you as well as I do is because you hold the other half of my soul, as I hold the other half of yours.’ He says softly as his eyes then looked up to the stars in a form of hope, stars that now twinkled within his eyes as though they had finally broken free from the veil of endless hopelessness that often came with being a half-blood. ‘I also wonder that if I’m another lifetime, another universe where we’re not cursed to be demi-gods….If that’s even plausible.’ He adds sarcastically, his features contorted in pain and anger before it all faded away as quickly as it came. ‘If we ever get to find each other again or are destined to wonder our entire lives, lost in the hope of trying to fill the void we’re seemingly born with from this lifetime.’
You wordlessly buried yourself into his neck, pressing soft kisses there in hopes of soothing him somewhat. ‘I’m sure we find each other, no I’m certain that we find each other.’ You murmured reassuringly, feeling his arms tighten on your waist. ‘You wanna know why?’ Luke looked away from the stars to look at you, intrigued. ‘Why?’ You moved yourself from your cosy place against his chest, causing him to whine at the loss of your warmth, only to stop upon feeling you hold either sides of his face between your hands; caressing his cheeks as you stared lovingly into his eyes as he welcomed your touch by sinking into it.
‘Because what we do in this lifetime will echo throughout the others, we defy the gods today and we will defy the gods in every single lifetime afterwards.’ You said, pressing your forehead against his as you moved one of your hands from Luke’s cheek to hold him by the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. ‘The same can be said for when we love each other as much as we do right now, we will always find ourselves falling in love with each other in the other lifetimes too.’ You pressed a kiss to his scar before continuing. ‘For we’re fated to be soulmates, even if means having the odds stacked against us, we’ll always find each other again. No matter what.’
Luke stared at you for a while before he pressed his lips against yours passionately, his hands keeping you close to him as he poured everything he had into the kiss, not so secretly wishing that you were right about your love echoing throughout all your other lifetimes, to the point it disrupts their originally intended fates to pursue one another, not caring how long it would take because you both knew that the wait would’ve been entirely worth it.
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i-drop-level-one-loot · 9 months
Note
If you want to could you please write more puppyboy hybrid? It can be NSFW or SFW (which ever is easier to write) Thanks! Btw i love your work!
-🩷
Thank you so much! Sorry for taking a bit to respond, I've been receiving more messages than I thought I would ❤️
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(Reader) stumbled as their pet? roommate? friend, Buddy, a golden haired puppy hybrid pulled them by their hand excitedly, dragging them from the car into the grocery store. (Reader) figured that Buddy was always excited to leave the house because of his canine instincts, when in actuality it was because he considered any time they went outside to be a date. Shopping dates, car ride dates, taking a walk around town dates; even though (Reader) never said it, Buddy knew they loved him. More than loving him, he knew they were in love with him. Just as he was them.
Buddy excitedly jumped into the basket of the shopping cart, beaming with joy at the exhausted adult. They didn't argue, however, just sighing and pushing the cart down the isles they needed. It wasn't going to be a long shopping trip, they only needed a few things, but Buddy had insisted that he needed to go with them. (Reader) just hoped that he wouldn't cause the trip to last longer than it needed to be, wanting to be at home snuggled up on the couch.
"(Reader)?" A voice called out behind them, turning to find an old friend from high school.
"Peter! My God you've gotten old! How are ya?" (Reader) joked, reaching out to grab Peter's hand.
The shopping cart squealed as Buddy jumped out of it, dashing between the two reuniting friends. His back was arched and his stance was wide, his ears pressed back in a threatening way as he growled at the other man.
"Buddy, what are you doing?!"
Buddy turned back to (Reader), grabbing them by the hand to leave, his ears still flattened and his tail straight. "Let's hurry up and go home."
(Reader) tried to pull back, to argue, but everytime they tugged against his grasp it only tightened, baring his teeth.
This continued until they got home. As (Reader) closed the door of their apartment behind them, Buddy shoved them against the door, trapping them with his body.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"What do you think you're doing?!" Buddy snapped back, tears glistening at the corners of his long eyelashes. "How dare you think about flirting with someone else while we're out on a date?"
Before (Reader) could become offended by his attitude, Buddy bit down on their neck, causing them to cry out in pain.
"Buddy, stop! That hurt!"
He growled pulling down the neck of (Reader's) shirt, the threads in it snapping as he stretched it out. Sharp teeth grazed their neck, threatening to take a deadly bite.
"This only happened because he didn't know you were my mate..." He kissed their neck passionately, pressing his body into theirs as he licked and sucked down to their collar bone.
(Reader's) face flushed as something hardened, pressing into their thigh. Buddy pulled himself away from the forming hickies, his face looking feverish as his breathing became uneven.
He grabbed (Reader's) hand, leading it down to his crotch, forcing them to feel his erection. "I've been good waiting for you.. now I need you to be a good little mate for me."
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20-th-centurygirl · 1 year
Text
bribery
jude bellingham x fem!reader
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warnings: smut, fluff
a/n: another fic inspired by the beloved hey jude tag on @judeswhore 's account because it means the world to me <333 inspired by this ask. i used a gif for the first time and i'm really liking it so far 🤭 also the ending for this is very very rushed and i'm abit :/ about it so i can only apologise if it's cringe
masterlist
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Jude let out a rather frustrated groan as you led him into yet another store. You'd dragged him out shopping, he had the day off and you wanted to spend time together so you decided to take him out to get advice on new clothes. "babe seriously? another one?" He'd stopped dead in his tracks and consequently stopped you as you were holding his hand. "this is the last one i promise jude" you tried your best puppy dog eyes at him and jude hated the fact they worked. "You said that like 5 shops ago" he grumbled under his breath. you said nothing, instead taking his hand and pulling him in.
jude had wondered off and found somewhere to sit down with the multitude of bags while you carried on looking around. You'd eventually made your way back to him. "need you to come with me so you can tell me what you think of them all" you said, nodding towards the changing rooms. "i'm sure you'll look stunning in all of them, and i love you but please please be quick so we can leave" He'd tried to sound nice but you detected the slight annoyance in his tone. "Oh stop pouting. I need to grab a bottle of perfume after this and then we can go" jude groaned loudly and threw his head back. "Promise?" He mumbled, holding out his pinky finger and you bit back a laugh. "Pinky promise baby" you linked your fingers together and your favourite smile adorned judes face.
"Right, I'm gonna go pay for these then we'll go and get my perfume, okay?" You asked sweetly. "no, I'll pay" jude said, putting emphasis on the "i'll". you shot him a glare. Of course you were incredibly grateful to have jude in your life but you also treasured your independence. "Jude, I know you mean well and I'm always insanely grateful but-" He put his index finger on your lips "nope, princess treatment only for you" He tapped your lips a few times before walking over to the till.
"so what we doing now?" Judes mood had improved at the promise of going home. "Need to grab some perfume and we can go home yeah?" He nodded as you both walked in. What was supposed to be a quick dash in and out instead ended up in you begging jude to hold his arm out so you could swatch makeup and perfumes. "baby you said we'd be quick" He whined, glancing down at his arm that had multiple colours of lipstick on it. His other smelt strongly of at least 5 different perfumes. "jude, if i promise to give you head when we get back will you stop pouting?" You groaned and his eyes lit up. He nodded feverishly and held his arms further so you could carry on testing.
Once you were finished jude practically dragged you back to the car. "babe hurryyyy" he groaned, half hard already just at the thought of getting head. "God you're so needy." You teased but you couldn't deny the butterflies you got knowing just how much jude wanted you at the drop of a hat. "And what about it? Not my fault you're so good" you rolled your eyes as you both got in the car. His hand immediately gravitating to your thigh, his thumb stroking it gently. His leg bobbed up and down and his eagerness both made you want to laugh and scream.
The moment you got home jude basically dragged you over to the sofa where he sat down, his legs spread wide and his bottom lip caught between his lip. You decided to keep up the irritating just a little longer "you want something?" You questioned, trying desperately to keep up the facade that you knew nothing about what he wanted. "I think you made me a promise babe" He said, convinced you were just teasing. "Huh?" You tried your best to sound as confused as possible and it seemed to be working. "You said that I'd get head if I was patient and I think I have been so" you rasied your eyebrow at him "hm, well you can stop being so vulgar first before I even think about it" "but it was a pinky promise" jude sounded absolutely betrayed and you burst out laughing. "Stop laughing and come here" He grumbled, pulling you into his lap by the backs of your thighs and you swiftly straddled him.
One of his hands trailed to the back of your neck, pulling your face impossibly closer to his as his other pulled your hips down, grinding softly against him. He let out a small moan on one roll of your hips, the pent up desperation getting to him. "Please" He mumbled against your lips. "Please what?" "Please just keep your promise baby"
You said nothing, instead shuffling off his lap and sitting on your knees, jude handing to a pillow to rest on. You stroked your hands up and down his thighs agonisingly slow, letting out a groan of frustration. You brought your fingers to delicately unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. Jude lifted his hips up so you could pull his jeans down but you left his boxers on, choosing to lightly stroke him through them instead. "You've put up with alot today jude. Think you deserve this hm?" Jude nodded rapidly, letting out a deep grunt when you squeezed him lightly. You smirked at the sight of a wet patch already forming and you pulled his boxers down lightly.
You took him in your hand, slowly rubbing up and down a few times and placing faint kisses just to his tip, dragging out small, barely audible moans. You stopped your hand movements and just took his tip into your mouth as he pulled your hair into a messy makeshift ponytail. Jude let out a deep groan when you swirled your tongue around him, one of your free hands squeezing his thigh. "Oh fuck. So good at this angel". You gradually took him deeper into his mouth until your nose reached his abdomen. Your other free hand moved to roll his balls in your palm and the way judes head fell to the back of the sofa gave you butterflies. His mouth fell open, a string of moans falling from his mouth.
The grip his fingers had on your scalp was getting tighter. Tears began to pool in the corners of your eyes and the gagging noises were outright pornographic. You pulled off to catch your breath, instead choosing to stroke him quickly whilst maintaining eye contact with him. "I love you baby. Don't know what I did to deserve you" He moaned out, his head falling back again when you took him back in your mouth. You knew from the way he was gripping your hair and the way his moans had gotten more high pitched that he was close and you were determined to get him there. You allowed him to start bucking his hips up into your mouth "fuck i love it when you met me use your mouth like this. So good for me aren't you?" He whimpered, his head back facing you. His mouth was wide open as a string of curses and your name fell out snd his eyes rolled back. "im nearly there" you just smirked around his cock, fondling his balls and teasing shapes on his inner thigh with your nails. His breath hitched suddenly "fuck fuck fuck" and you felt him release in your mouth.
You pulled away slowly, sticking your tongue out to show jude you'd swallowed everything. His pupils were blown and he had small beads of sweat on his forehead. You helped him to pull his clothes back up. "You okay?" You giggled at his still mind blown expression. "Yeah. That was the best head I've ever had" He chuckled, his breath still slightly uneven. "So was me dragging you round shopping worth it?" You smirked. "If I get that again everytime then yes" He breathed out, helping you back up and grabbing you by the chin to pull your lips back to his.
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perpetuallyconfused10 · 9 months
Note
Im the one who asked about requests lol, I just have this Hotch thought and I can't stop thinking about it 🫂😭
Imagine Garcia "screaming" about a video, telling the whole team about it (except Hotch and Reader), and that video is on tiktok. When they spill something about the video, Hotch and Reader ask which video they're referring to, not knowing it's from a tiktok account where the person makes videos on Hotch x Reader (like edits taken from some interview where they look at each other, slightly touches and things like that) and it's a whole profile with a lot of videos like that! So the whole team teases them and they obviously like eachother!!
Feel free to change anything!!
Gone Viral, Gone Wrong
Thank you to this anon for submitting my first request! I might have written it (and especially Hotch) be a little (way) too sappy, but I love your idea so much and I hope I did it some type of justice! WC: 3.3K
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GIF by ssa-aaron-hotch-hotchner
There must be something on your face. Toothpaste, maybe, or coffee on your shirt, or a tear in your trousers. Something to explain the numerous pairs of eyes following you as you dash for the elevator, just as you always do. 
This morning’s been one for the books. Between a text from your highschool ex-boyfriend, congratulating you on your ‘newfound fame’ — whatever he means by that, you don’t know — and the incomprehensibly slurred voicemails you woke up to from your sister, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.
You tell yourself you’re probably imagining it. But Anderson doesn’t say a word to you as you both make your way to the BAU, just casts you sidelong glances between the rapid texts he’s sending. You hope to God it’s not you, that he's just having an awful morning, then scold yourself for it. If you’re not off to a good start, at least somebody should be.
It’s the silence in the bullpen that confirms your suspicions. Emily, JJ, and Garcia sit huddled around Emily’s computer, squeezed onto two chairs they’ve pulled together. Morgan leans over them to look at the screen. He’s in the middle of laughing at something Garcia’s said when you walk in. 
You don’t even need Reid’s not-so-subtle hiss of “Guys–” to know you’re not going crazy. The smirks that drop from their faces, the giggles that extinguish themselves as you enter through the double doors, are more than enough. 
Four profilers and a technical analyst, as it turns out, can be rather terrifying when the force of their stares are directed at you. 
A sheepish grin tugs at your lips as you hold up your peace offering: a tray of coffee. “Hi?”
You’ve come to know how the team works. You know exactly how they react when ambushed, how they spring to action like a well-oiled machine.
There’s something a little mechanical to them now, bared in their responses to your arrival. After giving you one of his usual tight-lipped smiles, Reid flips open a random file on his desk and begins to read. JJ grabs the computer mouse, clicks a few times, and turns away from the monitor to greet you. Morgan clocks the drinks in your hands and conjures a grin just a little wider than normal. 
“Morning, sunshine,” he says as he plucks the tray from your hands, thanking you with a squeeze to your forearm. 
Garcia, eyeing the gesture, nearly chokes on the end of the pen she’s chewing. She stands to usher you over to your desk, her chirpy voice a balm attempting to smooth over what has been a very odd start to your working day. 
“What were you guys looking at?” You ask her, eyebrows raised. If anyone’s going to tell you what’s going on, Penelope is, without a doubt, most likely to spill.
You’re disappointed – and even more confused – when she stands her ground. Through her ramble, you just about make out the words “cat” and “spa” before she’s kissing your cheek and speeding away to your lair. 
You sigh as you switch on your own computer. One thing is clear. The team doesn’t like to be ambushed. And, somehow, that is exactly what you have done. 
After finishing off one of your consults, you suffer through a morning briefing that ends up being far more complicated than it needs to be. It’s only a paperwork day, by the looks of things. In theory, this is the ‘easiest’ your job gets; if you’re not called out on an emergency, you can bank on a day of case reports and shitty coffee. 
Nothing is ever easy at the BAU, not even now. Everything is out of order. There’s none of the usual idle chatter that precedes a briefing, just a fragile silence. Rossi moves from his normal position to take your place between Reid and JJ. He mutters something about the chair being uncomfortable and shoos you away from your seat. Though you can’t resist the opportunity to call him an old man for his pedantics, you acquiesce and take his spot instead. You find nothing wrong with it. 
Then Hotch walks in to start the briefing, and you find about a hundred reasons to curse David Rossi. He’s wearing the gray suit, again, the one he likes pairing with his red tie. That should be a crime in itself. When he takes the only seat available — his usual seat, the one now next to you — you’re almost sure you hear JJ snort. Emily pats her on the back as she conceals it with a very unconvincing cough.
Hotch frowns in your direction, probably mulling over the change in seating plan, then turns his attention to JJ. “Are you alright?”
The blonde clears her throat. “Fine. Thanks, Hotch,” she says. 
Garcia rests her elbows on the table, her mouth concealed by the palm of her hand. 
Hotch nods, casting another short glance your way. “Good.”
Then he launches into the briefing, and you can almost convince yourself things are perfectly normal, that your face isn’t alight with heat and you’re not avoiding looking at him, that everything is fine. When you’re dismissed, you scurry towards the door fast enough you almost miss it. 
“Garcia?” His voice is quiet, his tone soft with something disapproving hiding beneath it. “My office, please.”
Everything is decidedly not fine. 
By noon, you can’t take it anymore. “Emily Prentiss, what the fuck are you doing?”
The question comes out louder and more harshly than you’d intended. In your peripheral vision, you see Reid’s eyes widen at the desk next to yours. Emily, halfway through a sandwich, freezes. 
“I’m sorry?”
The grin fades from her face. 
You huff. “You’ve been looking between me and your computer for the last half-hour. What is it? Is there something on my face?” Morgan laughs from the other side of the bullpen, and you raise your voice a little in desperation. “Seriously. Have I done something wrong?”
JJ must have heard the commotion, because she pokes her head out of her office door. She takes one look at you and sighs. “Probably best to get it over with, Em.”
When Emily hesitates, your eyes narrow. “Get what over with?”
She stands and beckons you over to her desk, firing up her computer screen as you settle into her chair. JJ comes down the stairs to join you. Though they don’t move, you can practically feel Morgan and Reid staring at the three of you from across the room. 
What you see projected on Emily’s screen doesn’t make things any clearer.
“That’s—” you pause, dumbfounded. “Why are you looking at me and Hotch?”
The picture is easy to place. It must have been taken a few days ago, during a small-town case. Hotch had asked you to deliver a profile to the media when JJ was working on something else. It was far from the first time you’d faced the press head-on during your time at the Bureau, but Hotch had stood by your side anyway. 
You’re not sure why she’s chosen this photo, if any, to look at. The wind’s blowing your hair into your face, and you’re midway through changing expressions so it almost looks like you’re in pain. 
“Just watch,” Emily says. She presses the spacebar and the picture bursts into action.
“—If you believe you have any information that may relate to this case, we’d appreciate you calling the following number…” you say. You proceed to rattle off the number for the tip line JJ’s set up, but only get halfway through before everything derails. 
“How do we know this isn’t all just bullshit?” 
The voice overpowering yours is weathered, and so is the man who pushes through the crowd of journalists to get close to you and Hotch, whose posture you see straighten in an instant. You watch as the reporters from the city turn to look at the interloper, pens out and waiting, no doubt, for either you or your boss to slip up.
For a long moment, Hotch watches the man, his face twisted in irritation. He merely restates the tip line number and your request for any potential witnesses to come forward.
But the skeptic doesn’t let up. “This guy’s an outsider. Not one of us. Everyone here knows each other, they have done for years—”
“We’re not trying to cause a panic,” you say, your tone even, “We don’t want you all to turn on each other. But the man we’re looking for knows this town. He’s confident finding his way around the forest, even the areas that haven’t been mapped out yet. He knows the shortcuts, which roads are quiet and which are too risky to take. We’re asking you to exercise caution, and to report anything suspicious if you see it.”
“So what? A few pins on a map and you’re convinced it’s one of us?”
Hotch’s jaw tightens. This case has been harder on him than most, and you can sense that he’s on the verge of responding in a way he’ll regret later. You put a hand on his forearm as he raises it to retort, squeezing it gently in the hopes he’ll get the signal you really don’t have the seniority to be sending him: stand down. He takes a deep breath, and you let your hand slide down to meet his wrist, guiding it just a fraction backwards to rest by his side. The contact lasts only a second, maybe two, before you let him be. 
When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, his eyes slow to drag themselves from your face. “We’re not here to defend the science behind criminal profiling. Our priorities remain finding the person responsible for these crimes and the safety of this community until we do. If you have any information at all, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We appreciate your cooperation.”
Even the most amateur journalist would know he’s done answering questions. Hotch gives a brief nod, turns and leads you out of the Georgia heat and back into shelter of the precinct. All the time, his hand hovers over your back, his gaze searching for any potential disruptions. 
Then there’s his voice, deep and almost inaudible. You feel his breath brush your earlobe. “Thank you.”
Oh. 
Now you’re looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, you do look a little…cozy with Hotch. Not enough to walk the line of unprofessionalism, but enough for you to notice it. 
Emily folds her arms, leans back in her chair. “What’s that about?”
Avoiding her eyes, you shrug. “What’s what about?”
“The canoodling,” JJ says with a smirk, and you slap her arm. 
You’re a profiler. You should know your little attempt at denial isn’t going to work, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. “Canoodling? Seriously, Jen? I don’t think anyone under the age of eighty has ever said the word ‘canoodling’.”
You hear Penelope’s kitten heels clacking against the floorboards before you see her. “Doesn’t mean you’re not doing it,” she sings. Her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.
You groan. “Penny, you know I love you, but what are you doing here?”
“I got lonely,” she says, and her expression is so genuine that you can’t even bring yourself to be upset with her. “Just wait…”
Leaning over you to press the escape button, she exits out of full screen mode and points to the corner of the screen. When you read the number she’s showing you, your breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.
“Would you look at that?” Emily laughs. “It’s gone up.”
You blink. Once, twice, three times. And once more, for good measure. “Six-hundred-and-fifty thousand people have seen that?”
It all starts to make sense. The texts, the calls, the stares, the team’s behavior…you don’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. On the bright side, you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing that could get you fired. But more than half a million people have seen you practically mooning over your boss.
Emily makes a noncommittal noise. “Half of them were probably Garcia. And a good twenty-five or so were us, if that helps.”
“It doesn’t,” You resist the urge to slam your head against the desk. You’ll have to settle for burying it in your hands instead. “Six hundred and…fuck. And they all think–?”
“—That you’re in love with our boss? And that he’s in love with you? Yes.”
“Oh, fuck.” “They think that, too,” says JJ, sounding sympathetic. If it weren’t for the frankly dastardly smile on her face, you’d think she was on your side.
Picturing the general population witnessing you make an idiot of yourself is bad enough. How do you even conceptualize that many people? How many stadiums could you fill solely with people who have seen you head over heels for your boss? Even worse is the thought of Anderson, or your parents, or – God forbid – even Strauss having seen it. You’ll be suspended. Fired. Or, even worse, be called into a mediated meeting with Hotch and HR, where they’ll ask him if you’ve been making him feel uncomfortable. 
Emily’s voice pulls you from your shame spiral. “And there’s more, too.”
This world hates you. You’re certain of that as she opens Twitter, putting “FBI agents” into the search bar and bombarding you with hundreds, maybe thousands, of tweets with your image attached. Some are disturbingly sweet. Others poke fun at how obvious you are, and even more disturbingly, seem to think your feelings are reciprocated. That’s not a mental path you can allow yourself to go down. 
“So…” You say after a long ten minutes. “What do we do?”
Footsteps, then Rossi appears at the stop of the stairs. “You go back to work. Your break’s over.”
He’s lucky you’re so fond of him. Had it been anyone else (save maybe one person) to disrupt your shame spiral, you’d have been furious. More than furious. You’re still a little irritated now.
There was nothing wrong with his fucking chair. 
Your mission is simple. Avoid. Deny. Deflect. The rest of your afternoon drags along in a blur of paperwork and teasing comments you choose to ignore (mostly courtesy of Morgan — JJ and Emily have decided you’re nearing your breaking point and vow to leave you alone). 
Five o’clock can’t come soon enough. Even when it does, there’s no reprieve. Reid turns out to be the one to betray you as everyone else packs up to leave, their files in his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. To his credit, he looks like he means it.
“Judas,” you hiss back, but you stand and take the reports from him anyway. 
Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “Going somewhere special?” 
You flip him off, muttering something under your breath that sounds just a little like “your funeral”. 
The stairs to Hotch’s office feel much longer and much steeper than usual. At every step you reconsider. Reid’s probably still heading for the elevator now. If you catch him, you can guilt him into doing this instead. But your thoughts carry you close enough for Hotch to spot your approach through the blinds. He rises from his desk, opening the door before you can even reach for the handle. 
You can’t even look him in the eyes. “Hi.”
Stepping aside to let you inside, he says your name, and it sounds so warm coming from his mouth. You wonder if he knows about your newfound fame, too. He seems to be focusing his stare directly between your eyebrows. 
“I just came to drop these off.” 
As if your words aren’t explanation enough, you hold up the files for him to see.
“Thank you.” Hotch reaches out to take them, and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. He stops before the exchange is over. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”
It won’t be long now before the sun sets. It’s making its final play for glory now, golden light filtering through the window and settling over Hotch’s face. Hints of amber tones surface in his eyes, usually so dark and unreadable, making him appear much softer than usual. Safer.
You sigh. “I think some people got a little more out of that press release in Georgia than we intended them to.”
“Oh. Yes.”
“You know about that?”
You wouldn’t half mind if a wormhole opened up, right there in his office, and transported you to another universe where you don’t even have to think about this moment ever again.
“I do.” He winces. “Garcia’s computer system is the most secure in the FBI, but she doesn’t have an inside voice.”
The dry comment shocks a laugh out of you. “No, she doesn’t. But…it’ll die down, right? No one is actually going to believe that. Us being together would be—”
“Unprofessional,” Hotch supplies after a beat. “Very unprofessional.”
He reaches backwards to put the files you’ve given him on his desk, somehow managing to do so without actually taking a step away from you. If anything, he gets a little closer. 
“Exactly. Strauss would kill us if we even thought about it,” you say, “Not that we would, I’m just…”
Now he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. You swear his pupils are dilated, that he slips for just a half-second and lets his attention drift down to your lips. “There’d be a lot of paperwork.”
You nod. “Too much, really. You’ve got enough already. It’d also be…”
“…Nice.”
Hotch stops breathing, lips downturned in a frown. You’re sure you’ve heard him wrong. But half a minute passes, and he doesn’t retract his statement, though he looks as if he’s close to doing so.
“I’m sorry?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s close enough you catch a hint of his cologne, and the woody scent of it makes your head spin. 
“I can say it again,” he says through a long exhale, searching your face for any sign of discomfort as he takes another step closer. His breath ghosts your neck. “Or we can forget this ever happened.”
Your answer is almost immediate. “Let’s not do that.”
Hotch tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. You lean upwards to meet him halfway in a kiss that is soft and tentative, the sort that promises everything and asks for nothing in return. One of your hands cups his jaw, and both of his find their way home to your waist, rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. You smile against his lips. He leans forward as if to chase yours when you pull away.  It hits you, now, that this is really happening. The months you've been agonizing over this - whether to make a move or to shut the part of you that cares for him away - have led you here. There's much you've got to think over: what this means for both of your careers, the risk to the team's dynamic, whether it'll even work in the long run, if Hotch wants that too. You know he's thinking the same thing; his face adopts the same mask of concentration it always does when he's considering something. You take a deep breath. It might be hard, but does that stop it from being worth a shot? In the end, you don't think it does.
“I think I’m gonna order takeout tonight,” you say quietly. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street from me.”
Hotch clears his throat. “That sounds nice.”
Shaking your head, you rest both hands on his shoulders, laugh at him. “That was my way of asking you if you wanted to join me.”
“Oh.” 
His brow furrows. For a terrible moment, you think he’s about to say no. And then, “Haley has Jack tonight. I…I’d like that.”
You beam, pull back, and head towards his desk to find a pen and a scrap bit of paper. “Here’s my address.” A quick glance down into the bullpen, which is thankfully empty. “Give it ten minutes, then follow me?”
“Okay,” Hotch says. Even you can tell he’s grinning like an idiot, and you make a note of the rare expression. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?”
Squeezing his hand, you kiss his cheek and walk towards the door. “Soon.”
You feel his eyes on you until you reach the elevator.
If you got this far, thank you for reading! I've watched a lot more Dharma and Greg than CM, lately, so I have a feeling that my version of soft!Hotch is currently just a grownup version of Greg Montmgomery????
651 notes · View notes
respectthepetty · 16 days
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Pride Petty Watch
Long story short, I owe the BL gods, so I'll be watching TWO series from my Petty List during the month of June. This list includes shows I haven't watched for purely petty reasons, so I'm asking the crowd to pick the two shows I will watch from all the MAME series, some censored Chinese bromances, a few sexual tension-filled Korean bromances, and one wild card.
I'm making my first ever poll, so whichever two series get the highest numbers will be the two I watch. And for all the kind people in the crowd, this is not the time to think about me. Pick your favorite. And for all the people who I annoy on the daily with my wild ass takes that piss you off, pick TharnType. But there is a possibility of a secret thirteenth option that would hurt me much worse . . .
The petty ass reasons are below the poll.
Disclaimer: If you're going to read the petty ass reasons, I need you to understand these are PETTY ASS REASONS, so don't try to hit me with 2,000 words about why me not watching censored bromances is a problem or why me not liking your fave hurts your feelings. Nah. Pick a show!
MAME
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Love By Chance
This show came out at the end of 2018, and I watched the first episode, maybe first two, and thought it was boring. Then, in 2019, I saw a GIF of the locker scene, so I recommitted. I made it past the first episode just when the PerthSaint drama started spilling out everywhere, so I chucked the deuces and haven't returned since.
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TharnType
For some reason, I couldn't find the first episode when it aired. Then, I found out how the first episode ended. Then, I found out about Type's past. Then, I just kept finding out more awful stuff until eventually the MewGulf shit finally hit the fan, and I was still reeling from the PerthSaint drama (and the emerging ZeeSaint chaos). At this point, I've built this show up so much that I'm afraid to see what it is actually about.
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Don't Say No
A story of another GIF of a locker room scene sucking me in! After the first two MAME pairs blew up, I believed her shows were cursed, so I opted out of watching this one even though I thought it would be the one to vibe with me the most. But the biggest reason was because the main characters came from TharnType, so I felt like I would have to watch TharnType to understand this show, which was a big hell nah.
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Love in the Air
I watched this through mutuals on my dash, so I feel like I did watch it. It is also the highest rated MAME series, so I had faith in it. However, when I found out about Sky's past, TharnType's ghost popped back up, and I realized this demon of a show is gonna haunt me in every MAME series.
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The Wedding Plan
Y'all hated one of the leads so much while it was airing that I now hate him, and I don't think I can let that go, so I'm coming in with pre-hate and TharnType's ghost, but on top of that, some of y'all said it was boring. But what is boring in a MAME series? Consent? Not kidnapping someone? I never got answers, so I'm very conflicted about this show.
Censored Chinese
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The Untamed
It's color coded, but FIFTY FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Grey's Anatomy? The fuck! Second, once China pulled Addicted, I was holding grudges for life because it crossed from entertainment censorship into real-world oppression, so I could not bring myself to support media from a country that openly discriminates against the queers when I live in America where our highest court is just one Supreme Court Justice away from making us all live in the damn Mojo Dojo Casa House.
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Word of Honor
It's color coded, but THIRTY-SIX FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Supernatural?! The fuck! Second, I don't know the difference between this and The Untamed. Both are color-coded, one of them has a lot of uncles (?), one of them has awful facial hair, and they all have pretty outfits. Every time someone makes a reference about these shows, I just nod the same way I do when people mention Star Wars because none of it makes sense.
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Guardian
I spent two years believing Killer and Healer was Guardian. I haven't watched either, but I thought they were the same show. Honestly, if this show wins, I might just watch Killer and Healer because I will forget they are not the same show. Don't they both solve cases? And because it's China, past lives must be involved, no? I'm looking at their MDLs as I write this, and I'm still not convinced they are different.
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Stay with Me
It's color coded, but I know how it ends, and word on the street is that IS the ending since a second season seems unlikely. China couldn't just let me be hurt over Addicted, the original. No. Gotta hurt me again with Addicted, the remake. Rude af.
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The Spirealm
First off, SEVENTY-EIGHT FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Law & Order: SVU?! The fuck! I know how this ends, and it ain't happy! I don't care how people are trying to spin it, so to sit through SEVENTY-EIGHT DAMN EPISODES just for that ending already has me irate. And don't try telling me Viki combined episodes so it's only thirty-four. That's still a lot. However, everybody who has watched it says it's phenomenal, so is the pain worth it or are these people all lying so they convince themselves it was worth it?
Korean Bromance
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Beyond Evil
With most Korean dramas, I feel like I missing something important. Like some part of the story does not click with me and I stay lost for the rest of the show. I suck it up for the queers, but the not-queers-but-it-is-queer shows . . . nah, and especially one about cops . . . (-_-). Also, The Worst of Evil just showed, and it was another reminder that I need these cops to quit their jobs and just screw each other. Embrace "Be Gay. Do Crime"
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The Devil Judge
I know enough about Kpop to know GOT7 would not let one of its members kiss a man in this show. I looked at those GIFs of Jeff Satur and Jackson Wang on their show knowing damn well that if Wang got too close to Satur, an entire management team would have ascended from hell and kidnapped both of them, so the promo for this show was so wild because it felt queerbait-adjacent, and I was salty about it.
WILD CARD!
This option will be automatically unlocked IF this stupid little poll gets 216 votes, so I have high hopes this will not happen since I ain't that popular and I hate this wild card which is . . .
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SOTUS
This show is my original TharnType. It came out in 2016. I watched it live. I watched the sequel. I remember neither. New was in it? Off was in it?! WHAT?! I have no memory of this show except Krist wiping his mouth, and I have carried that with me for eight damn years. I loved Be My Favorite, so I thought I moved past whatever strange grudge I was holding against this man who doesn't know I exist nor care, but then I saw that trailer for The Ex-Morning, and unlike Elsa, I can't let this shit go, so I'm willing to play Jumanji and go back into the jungle to finish this once and all.
So what it's gonna be, mi gente. Which demons am I facing for Pride and what shows do I get to stay petty about? Help me decide!
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enluv · 9 months
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the couples quiz <3
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PAIRING! bang chan x fem!idol reader
SYNOPSIS! - back with enluv productions, we have our favorite idol couple to take the enluv couples quiz! - this consist of a multitude of questions asked by each of them to test how well they know their partner! enjoy <3
word count: 3,310 (and it’s all fluff 😁)
genre(s): interview styled writing + video layout chic (?) & so much fluff like it’s so cavity inducing you may need to call a dentist 🤭
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, both idols, profanity, nervousness, and I am pretty sure that’s all! (if I missed something lmk!)
coco’s love note: idea is based off the gq couples quiz videos !! please note that our reader is in an oc group I’ve made :)
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[ video preview begins now – our idol couple are shown sitting comfortably in two opposing director chairs ]
Y/N: What’s our contact names on each others phones?
Chan: Oh that’s easy I have her as (he makes quotation marks with his fingers) “Y/N L/N” and in parentheses (he cups his hands to express them) “gf”
[the room falls silent as y/n stares shocked at chan]
Y/N: There’s no way…you’re so lying right? (her eyes are widened with shock)
Chan: Of course I am baby! Why would I ever just have you as your name? I have you as “future ms.bahng” (he smiles proudly displaying his contact name for y/n and her contact photo)
Y/N: I almost threw these cards at you for real Christopher! Don’t ever do that again!
Chan: What’s my contact name?
Y/N: Bang Chan dash Stray Kids. (she stares deadpanned at the camera before giggling at his expression)
Y/N: Now you know how it feels! I have you as “my love” it’s a bit simple but I just really love you.
[ end of preview - the screen cuts back to the couple as they first start the video and it begins ]
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Y/N: I’m Cupid’s Y/N!
Chan: and I’m Stray Kids Bang Chan!
Y/N & Chan: and we’re taking the enluv couples quiz!
[the couples quiz logo pops up over them to signify the start of the interview – y/n’s questions are first]
Y/N: What’s an item of yours I always seem to steal?
Chan: Oh that’s obvious, she always steals my hoodies. All the colorful ones go to her!
Y/N: Correct! His fans always tell him to wear color but I think I’ve stolen everything with a decent amount of color on it…oops? Sorry stays!
Y/N: What’s something I always bring with me on tour?
Chan: Hmm well there are a few ways to go about this. You could be asking like sentimental items or like necessities.
Y/N: I wrote a list so if the items you guess are on it I’ll give you a point.
Chan: Oh god. (he shakes his head and looks up to show he’s thinking) I would say probably your first aid kit bag. She’s pretty clumsy and needs to have a band-aid on her at all times.
Chan: Oh also probably our son. Oh! I know the most important one is definitely your headphones. You don’t ever leave the house without them.
Y/N: Channie I think you need to elaborate on what our son means (she laughs pointing towards the production team) because they seem worried.
Chan: Oh right. Y/N and I have matching plushies that we won each other on our…hmm I think it was our fifth date? I took her to an arcade and they had claw machines. She got me a psyduck plushie it’s really big and I got her a bunny plush. We call them our sons and usually I’ll take the bunny and she takes psyduck. We care for them equally though! We aren’t absent parents!
Y/N: Okay you were right about all of those, you’re missing one thing though. This one is the most important one.
Chan: Babe…I thought I hit them all seriously…gimme a hint pleaseee….
Y/N: It’s something you gave me.
Chan: I’ve given you a lot of things Y/N.
Y/N: Can I just tell you?
Chan: No! I wanna guess.
[a compilation of chan guessing is played in x2 speed, y/n continues to answer no as he guesses]
Chan: I give up! Tell me.
Y/N: It’s my bracelet! (she laughs softly at his expression)
Chan: Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot about our bracelets!! (he holds up his right hand so the camera can see) We have bond bracelets!
Y/N: When you touch them it sends the other person a small vibration and it means that we’re thinking of or miss the other. They’re really nice since we work a lot and don’t see each other as often as we’d hope.
Chan: I touch mine a lot.
Y/N: Mhm he does, but so do I so I’d never complain.
Y/N: Have I ever written a song about you? And if the answer is yes, which one is my favorite.
Chan: Yeah, plenty of them.
Y/N: Woah okay no need to expose me sir.
Chan: Babe I’m not exposing anything, it’s kinda obvious…
Y/N: Just answer the question Chris.
Chan: “two souls” is your favorite and I know that because you worked on it for almost three months then gave it to me on my birthday.
Y/N: He’s right. That song is my baby, it’s so personal but I just really love it so much. He kept trying to sneak into my laptop to listen to it but I caught him every single time! He cried when he first heard it though so it was worth hiding.
Chan: I thought we promised not to talk about that sweetie.
Y/N: Next question!
Y/N: What was my first concert?
Chan: Oh man. I don’t think I know this one babe.
Y/N: Channie I promise I’ve told you the answer to all of these questions.
Chan: Okay can you tell me how old you were?
Y/N: No.
Chan: Please prettty? I think I’ll get it if I know how old you were!
Y/N: I was sixteen almost seventeen. (y/n sends the camera a wink)
Chan: OH! I’ve so got it then. I know it!
Y/N: Okay who was it then?
Chan: It was Seventeen sunbaenim!
Y/N: Ding ding ding! Correct!
Chan: I always forget how big of a carat you are seriously. She loves them. The kids are friends with them so it’s wild to see her interact with them.
Y/N: I’m good friends with them now, perks of being an idol, they always tease me too.
Chan: Who did you bias?
Y/N: Some secrets should never see the light Channie.
Y/N: NEXT!
Y/N: What’s my favorite food?
Chan: It’s Chipotle but you get the most mundane thing ever so you always throw in a side of chips and queso because you’re scared the workers roll their eyes when they see your order.
Y/N: That…what oddly specific…why did you expose me like that omg…embarrassing!
Chan: Babe you recite exactly what I just said every time you order Chipotle, literally word for word I know it by heart now.
Y/N: Feels like he’s attacking me a bit right guys (y/n turns to the cameras as if asking the audience)
Chan: I am not! You have said that to me a million times! It’s seriously engraved in my head.
Y/N: NEXT!
Y/N: What’s my favorite song that you’ve written that’s about me?
Chan: I know the answer but if I say it then fans are going to have a field day on twitter.
Y/N: How would you know? Been on twitter recently Chris?
Chan: (he stares at the camera and winks) I don’t have twitter, you know, idol things and all those logistics.
Y/N: Should we answer the question together?
Chan: Stop cheesing so hard, you did this on purpose didn’t you.
Y/N: Yes I did. Ready? 3…2…1!!!
Chan & Y/N: Red Lights
Y/N: What can I say! It’s a good song.
Chan: Is it my turn yet? I need to seek revenge.
Y/N: NOPE! Still me!
Y/N: How many pets do I have and can you tell me in which order I got them?
Chan: This is terrible because she had pets even before getting with me.
Chan: Okay here it goes. You have three pets, first one is Pickles, he’s a greyhound. Next would be Peanut, he’s a fish and he has a brother named Jelly. They count as one because they’re a pair, and finally we have Kimchi and that’s our gecko, I named him. (he smiles proudly at the camera)
Y/N: Four points! Wow babe good job!
Chan: What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t know our kids names?
Y/N: So true like imagine you forgot one I’d be so mad.
Chan: I know that’s why I got them all right.
Y/N: What’s my dream wedding look like?
Chan: I also know this answer, we talk about it a lot.
Chan: You want a small wedding with the most important people in your life, so like family and friends but also people who have helped you in your career as well. You want a summer wedding and want a pastel creamy green color to be the theme. It’ll be inside but you really liked the forest vibe from Twilight so the inside will be decorated to look like the woods.
Y/N: Okay woah. Do you have access to my Pinterest or something?
Chan: You say that like we don’t talk about getting married all the time. (he smacks his lips playfully at her)
Y/N: I am in love with you, seriously like on god dude.
Chan: Stop saying on god after you tell me you love me, we talked about this!
Y/N: He doesn’t like it because he says it sounds like I’m talking to a brother.
Chan: You sound like my nineteen year old sister!
Y/N: and I love her very much! We went shopping last time we went to visit them.
Chan: and you bought her $800 shoes.
Y/N: What can I say, I love all the bahngs!
Y/N: Last question Chris, let’s see if you get this one right! What was my first impression of you!
Chan: Oh you’re going there? I see how it is. (he fixes himself to sit straight up and looks at the camera) Our fans don’t know this story but Y/N hated me.
Y/N: (laughing to herself and gesturing to the crew again) They look so confused! He made it sound so bad, I just thought he was one of those really weird guys because, so basically we met at an award show and his group, Stray Kids, had been seated next to us.
Chan: We were so close we could touch arms.
Y/N: No truly! And it was funny because his entire group, and if you don’t know, they have eight members in total, all got up and went to the bathroom together. All eight of them! It was hilarious, I’d never seen any group do that!
Chan: We like to stay together. Safety in numbers!
Y/N: They came back after a while and almost missed getting their award. It was just so odd to me at the time but after that we started talking as the show went on and I thought he was super sweet and obviously he cares for his members.
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[the couples quiz logo pops onto screen as the video depicts chan at the center, he flashes an excited smile at the camera]
Chan: Is it finally my turn? I’ll be honest I don’t have that many questions…but they’re pretty hard to answer. I don’t know if Y/N will be able to get them right.
Y/N: Don’t antagonize me Christopher! I know everything about you.
Chan: We’ll see about that.
Chan: First question! Before we went on our first date I had originally planned something else but it fell through, what was it and why didn’t we do it?
Y/N: Woah you’re going BACK.
Chan: Mhm, answer the question baby.
Y/N: This is a funny story that not everyone knows actually. Chan loves doing crazy things like he doesn’t do traditional dates ever, it’s always something outrageous that you least expect.
Chan: I want things to be memorable, plus if I have free time I don’t want to spend it sitting around, I want to go out and do things.
Y/N: He originally wanted to take me bungee jumping, (the camera pans to a laughing chan and the staff can be heard gasping) can you believe that! Bungee jumping for a first date!
Chan: It would have been memorable though, right?
Y/N: Yeah definitely. It didn’t happen though because he heard from a mutual friend of ours, Minnie, that I was really scared of heights.
Chan: I canceled the day super quick, the date was in two days and I called and had to cancel but I was honestly grateful I found out because imagine if I hadn’t known and took her to it? Memorable first date but not in a good way!
Y/N: I think maybe now I’d do it, but only if he’s with me because I trust him the most.
Chan: Wait really? Wait we’ll talk about this later, finish the story!
Y/N: Right! He took me swimming instead, it was a indoor private pool place and it was so much fun. He actually taught me how to swim.
Chan: It’s one of my favorite memories because I just knew I’d be asking her to be my girlfriend.
Y/N: Stop I’m going to cry if we get into this again!
Chan: I told her this last time we talked, how I knew she was the one for me our first date. She cried and then called her mom to tell her.
Y/N: My parents love him, maybe more than me to be honest.
Chan: What was the first achievement we got as a group that made me feel like I had made it?
Y/N: This feels like a trick question.
Chan: I promise it’s not.
Y/N: There are two answers because your first win is so memorable that I’d pick that one but you also always say you haven’t made it, because you’re still going, still reaching and setting goals and achievements for yourself.
Chan: You worded that perfectly. She’s right. First win on a music show was huge for us but honestly as a group we have a lot of goals and want to achieve them all, I don’t know if we’re ever going to truly feel like we’ve made it but seeing our fans celebrate our achievements always makes it feel like we’re heading in the right direction.
[the camera shifts and pans to y/n running her thumb on the back of chan’s palm, she whispers something in his ear before they continue]
Chan: What was my favorite sport growing up?
Y/N: Easy! It was swimming and you were really good at it.
Chan: Don’t say that they’re going to believe you.
Y/N: Babe I’ve seen those awards your mom has lining the walls of your house, trust me, you were good.
Chan: My dad owns a swim school so I swam a lot as a kid and naturally went on to compete at meets and stuff. If I wasn’t here doing this, I’d be a swimmer.
Y/N: He’s really good at it, and he taught me how to swim so like he’s a good teacher too.
Chan: I can’t believe I taught you to swim that memory is so engraved in my mind.
Y/N: Mine too! I could not learn for the life of me and then suddenly on my first date with him he taught me. That should tell you how good he is at swimming.
Chan: I don’t know if I’m good now but back then I wasn’t terrible.
Y/N: My boyfriend is so humble!
Chan: What’s one thing that you hate that I do but I love it?
Y/N: Sleeping in the recording room?
Chan: (he lets out a sarcastic laugh) Ha Ha Ha. Close but no.
Y/N: I don’t know, I don’t hate anything you do honestly.
Chan: Want me to tell you?
Y/N: You so want to tell me.
Chan: I do.
Y/N: Tell me.
Chan: It’s when I spend too long in the studio, so long that you have to come get me.
Y/N: You’re so….(she’s cut off by chan’s laughter)
Chan: Let me explain before you blast me in front of everyone!
Y/N: Mmm…go on…
Chan: I know you hate coming to get me but some of my favorite times are when you come because then we spend hours together listening to things I’ve made or messing around and recording things. It’s nice to have you so interested in what I do because I love you and I love music, it’s like my two favorite things are interacting and meeting one another.
Y/N: I hate you so much! You know I’m a sap, I’m going to cry you meanie, that’s so cute what even is this!
Chan: My revenge worked!
[the video cuts to the next clip and the viewer can see that y/n now has a tissue in hand]
Chan: Next question, who gave me advice when we first started getting to know each other and dating?
Y/N: Was it not one of the boys? You said you told binnie first no? So I’d assume him.
Chan: Nope! Guess again.
Y/N: No? Hmm I don’t know…maybe one of your other idol friends?
Chan: It was actually our choreographer.
Y/N: What? Really? Why?
Chan: They saw how stressed I was because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend officially and it was making me distracted so they sat me down and made me spill what was bothering me. Funny too because when I told them they told me to just go for it, and I did and then later on they told me they were glad I had because I looked so much happier.
Y/N: Wow this tissue is being used to its fullest today. I am making a mental note to buy them anything they want right now like wow, imagine if they had never told you to just do it. Where would we be?
Chan: Still sneaking around to hang out as “friends” probably.
Chan: Final question, what’s the title of our new collab song coming out?
Y/N: Oh you’re terrible, did you even get permission to reveal this?
Chan: No but I feel like it’ll, a) this will be out by the time we announce it or b) I don’t have a plan B since I’m hoping plan A is successful!
Y/N: Stay please pray for your leader, he’s so going to get us in trouble for this!
Chan: Don’t say that pretty, have some faith in me.
Y/N: Our collab song is called “Here for you,” and it was written and produced by us.
Chan: It’s a love song if you didn’t guess that.
Y/N: I think they got that one babe.
Chan: Making sure they know it!
Interviewer: Can you tell us a little about the song?
Y/N: Well like Chan said, it’s a love song. It’s about finding the right person and immediately knowing they’re the one.
Chan: Immediately knowing they’re your person.
Y/N: We wrote it one night in the studio after fighting, nothing huge but we both had a bad day and it was intense, when you’ve been with someone for a while you have those days you know? He wrote something down to blow off some steam and so did I. We realized that we’d wrote one half of a song each. Then we put it together, fixed it up and made it that night.
Chan: It’s a really special song to us both, that’s why I’m so excited to announce it.
Y/N: We’re really excited to have you all listen to it.
Interviewer: Well thank you both for coming. We appreciate you making some time for us! 
Y/N & Chan: Thanks for having us! (they send a smile to the camera and bow in thanks to the crew)
Y/N: We had a lot of fun today, really thank you.
Chan: Maybe we will come back in like ten years, married, and all that and do it again!
[ the camera zooms out and in fades the couples quiz logo, you can see the couple as they whisper to one another after the director yells “cut” ]
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ENLUV EXTRA:
Chan: Why do I love Y/N? That’s a big question to ask, and if I named all the reasons we’d be here for a long time, to put it simply she’s my soulmate, I don’t think there is anyone else in the world more right for me than her. She’s caring, fun, creative, so many more things and it’s like wow, people do exist like her out there and I was lucky enough to find her? She must be my soulmate.
Y/N: Why do I love Chris? Hmm let me think. As a society I know we don’t believe in soulmates, and for a long time I put no thought into them you know? But meeting Chan and being able to experience the love he gives, has honestly changed that for me. I don’t think there is anyone out there more perfect for me than him. I can’t put into words why I love him but I can try to describe it. It’s like when you find a new favorite thing to obsess over, and that becomes something you love so dearly but in the case of me and Chan, it’s that feeling on and on, it never falters and my love for it stays consistent.
[ the video ends with a black screen fading out the image of y/n from frame ]
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coco’s <3 note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! I’ve been talking about this fic for almost three months now 😭 and finally it’s done! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I do :) Thank you @odxrilove for being my beta reader for it! I love you wifey 😻🫶🏽 As always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated!
SKZ TAGLIST! - @cherry-bushes @en-fvr @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @kyublr @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @haechan-nahceah @mnwrld @queen-klarissa
— Want to be tagged? Check out THIS post!
670 notes · View notes
alotofpockets · 8 months
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Crush | Leighton Murray
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Pairing: Leighton Murray x Jock!Reader
Summary: Whitney notices Leighton's crush on her fellow soccer player and decides to get them together. [Full request]
Masterlist | Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.4k
Over the past couple of weeks Whitney noticed Leighton showing up at soccer practice more and more often. She always seemed to have some excuse to be there, so at first Whitney didn’t think much of seeing her roommate sitting on the bleachers and just went to her to see what she needed but over time the excuses started to get less and less convincing. 
That’s when Whitney noticed who the blondes eyes kept lingering on. She smirked to herself, thinking of how to tease Leighton about her little crush when she was done with practice. 
Leighton looks up from her homework when she hears footsteps approaching her. "Oh, hey Whit, done already?" She says casually. "Just a 10 minute water break." Whitney says as she sits down next to the girl. "So, don't worry, you have more time to stare at y/n in a minute." Leighton looks away from Whitney's piercing eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about." Leighton responds. 
Unintentionally, Leighton's eyes fall on you again. Her mouth falls open as she sees you lift up your shirt to wipe the sweat off your face, which puts your abs on full display. "Nice try, Murray, you're drooling right now." 
That's when you look their way. Leighton quickly closes her mouth but you had already noticed her staring. You wave to her with a smirk on your face. Leighton waves back, her smile a lot less smug. What is happening? She thought. She was never nervous around people. "Oh, you're crushing so hard." Whitney says as she gets back up, to go back to practice. 
Later that afternoon, back at the dorm, everyone sits down in the common room. "You'll never guess what happened at practice today." Whitney says, grabbing everyone's attention instantly. Leighton rolls her eyes at the giddiness in Whitney's eyes. Bela and Kimberly look between Leighton and Whitney sharing looks. "Well, come on, don't leave us hanging." Bela interrupts the intense nonverbal conversation.
"Ugh, fine. Go ahead" Leighton says in defeat, knowing they were going to get it out of Whitney one way or another. "Leighton is crushing on a girl from my soccer team." Kimberly squeals, "Oh my god, that is so exciting. Who is it?" Leighton decides to give in and share. "It's y/n." This time it's Bela's turn to squeal. "Wow, Leigh, I didn't know you were into jocks. She has killer abs!" Whitney jumps in, "Oh, Leighton was drooling over them earlier. I think she is very aware of those." Leighton starts blushing, her love life was never on display like this. "Okay, that's enough, thank you." 
Leighton seemed to be the only one not having plans for tonight as one by one her roommates left the dormroom. She decided to change into some more comfortable clothes. She settles on the couch and decides to work on her homework, she's only a couple of questions in when she hears a knock on the door. 
Leighton opens the door and there you are. She didn't know who she expected on the other side of the door but it certainly wasn't you. "Oh, hi, y/n." She greets you. "Whitney isn't here, she left like half an hour ago." You give her a puzzled look. "I'm not here for Whit, I'm here for you. However, by the sound of it, you were not expecting me." Leighton looks down at her outfit, "Yeah, if I knew I would be having company tonight I wouldn't be wearing this." 
You sent a dashing smile her way, "Well, I think you look great. So, let's not worry about that, shall we?" Leighton shakes her head in response. "Yeah, I guess it's too late to worry now anyways. Now, tell me, what exactly are you here for?" She asks stepping back so you can enter the dormroom. "I'm kind of struggling in my math class this year, and Whit said you're really good at it. She said you'd tutor me but since you know nothing about it, I think we have been set up."
That's when Leighton starts getting nervous. Set up? If you thought this was a set up, did you like her too? She decides to put her nerves aside and ask. "Set up how?" Her question gets another smirk out of you. "I've seen you in the bleachers, Leigh. You're not exactly subtle while checking me out on the field." Leighton is quick to look away from the challenging eye contact you are trying to hold. When you notice a blush creeping on your cheeks you add on to your sentence. "On the other hand, you might not have seen me checking you out the moments you were actually doing your homework while you're sitting there." Leighton's eyes meet yours again, she's searching for any sign of a lie on your face but she can't find one. "Oh." Is all she manages to get out. Seriously, what was happening? She thought. What's wrong with me? She was always the confidence herself but around you she was quite the opposite.
You decide to give making Leighton flustered a rest. “So, are you down to help me? It’s okay if not.” Leighton is quick to answer, “Yeah, of course. Let’s sit.” You sit down on the couch and grab your stuff. You are pleasantly surprised by Leighton’s math knowledge and are very grateful that she’s willing to help you. Leighton on her turn was gaining more and more confidence the longer she spent sitting by your side. 
Leighton asked to borrow your pencil to write something down on your paper. She explained what she was doing as she continued to solve the problem in front of you. To your surprise, you actually understood what she was saying, so you nodded along. She handed you back the pencil, your hands lingering longer than needed. You smile before asking if you could take a small break. “Yeah, of course, do you want anything? I can grab you a drink or something.” Without a second thought you answer her question. “What I want is to kiss you. Is that offer also on the table?” The blush rushes back to Leighton’s cheeks. “Okay, that was smooth.” She laughs. “And yes, that is definitely on the table.”
You reach out your hand and place a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you lean in. Your lips meet in a soft kiss. Her lips feel amazing, you think to yourself as you deepen the kiss. The tutor session was quickly forgotten as you’re making out on the couch. 
After you lay comfortably on the couch with Leighton in your arms. “Want to prank Whitney with me?” Leighton asks as she is playing with your hand. “For sure, what do you have in mind?” She explains her plans before you have to head out. Before you leave though, you share a sweet kiss with her. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Later that night when Whitney walks into the dormroom she is instantly met with an annoyed looking Leighton. “What the actual fuck, Whitney? You can’t just tell people I will tutor them without asking me if I am willing to do that.” She doesn’t even leave room for Whitney to respond before walking into her room and slamming the door shut. 
Leighton was already out of the dorm when Whitney woke up, she had an early class. The rest of the day went on and Whitney didn’t see Leighton anywhere. That was until practice started and she saw Leighton sitting in the bleachers again. Whitney took that as her chance to apologize, so she made her way up. “Hey, Leighton, I’m really sorry. I thought it would just be a harmless thing, my intention wasn’t to hurt you.”
You noticed Whitney heading your way so you followed her up, like the plan you had discussed. “Hey Whit.” You greet your friend. Then you sit next to Leighton and put your arm around her before kissing her. Whitney’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, you are so mean! My plan totally worked.” You both burst out laughing. “Yes, it did work. You still needed to learn your lesson though. “Fair enough, I am just glad that the two of you found each other.” Whitney says before walking off. You kiss Leighton once more before heading back to the field. It was nice seeing her in the bleachers knowing that she was there for you and only you. 
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia. 
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
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“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team. 
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.” 
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.” 
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--” 
“--most of the time.” 
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks.  He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder. 
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently. 
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo. 
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway. 
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium.  “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.” 
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary. 
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh. 
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.” 
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!” 
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side. 
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge. 
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!” 
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.” 
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. 
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room. 
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.” 
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline. 
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas. 
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki. 
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“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news. 
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner. 
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.” 
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink. 
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!” 
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game. 
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone. 
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.” 
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” 
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance. 
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!” 
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki. 
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.” 
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought.  “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.” 
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
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Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano. 
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side. 
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony. 
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.” 
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger. 
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening. 
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view. 
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically. 
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder. 
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism. 
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it. 
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth. 
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
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billskeis · 5 months
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tom fluff please
ᡣ𐭩 tom w his new hair do
a heavy sigh was heard from the front door, your boyfriend had just came home from a hair appointment the both of you were anticipating. as shoes shuffled, waiting to be taken off, you ran at the speed of light outside your bedroom and beelined it for the front of the house.
“hi baby! let me see your hair,” you almost tripped going down the stairs due to your hurries to see tom’s new hair.
“sorry schatzi not right now..” his voice and breath was thick. he sounded upset, as though he just didn’t want to talk to you or anyone at the moment.
you didn’t want to pressure him into showing you, but he seemed so excited before he left? what happened?
he places a kiss on your cheek and heads towards the bathroom, you stand there, confused. next thing you hear is the sound of the bathroom door being locked, and tom never locks the door.
what’s going on?
you knock on the door, “tom? what’s wrong?” silence. you didn’t hear anything from behind the door, until he finally spoke for after what seems like forever, “n-nothing baby.. just, give me a minute i’m taking a shit alright?” you let your hand rest on the doorknob for a moment.
at this point you just thought to leave your boyfriend alone, maybe with some time, he will show you. ready to leave the foyer, you take your first step to go back into the bedroom to wait for him.
that was until you heard the door creak open and a sniffle.
whipping to turn your head around, you’re faced with your boyfriend who’s head is down. he has a hat covering his head, unrevealing his new hairdo to you. you witness a couple of tears fall from his face to the floor, “baby! what’s wrong??”
“will you like it?” he says every word with a sniffle following after. his voice is shaky, how could tom be so upset after something so exciting? “like what?” “like my hair..”
you soften your gaze at him, you rub circles on his shoulder to comfort him knowing how much he loves physical touch. feeling him ease under your touch, he begins to remove the hat, slowly, you bite your lip in anticipation.
not about the new hair, but how sensitive your boyfriend is. you’d love it regardless to what he’s done to it.
“the media.. it’s only been a few hours since i’ve gotten it done. four fucking hours. but those four hours let people to just—fuck, say shit.. mean shit..” “like what baby?” “go back to your old hair, you’re not as attractive anymore, we don’t like this new hairstyle, blahblahblah—like i can’t fucking take it anymore schatzi..”
you bring tom into a warm embrace, his head immediately falls into your shoulders, nuzzling his head into the crevice between your neck and head. because he’s taller than you, he has to lean a bit down.
and despite the size different between the two of you, he feels so safe within your arms.
“oh tom… don’t listen to them, come, raise your head and let me see.” you let go of your boyfriend so he can show you the new hair he got.
they’re braids, he also went from his lightbrown matt locks to black hair. and god, did he look so fucking hot.
“what!! tomi you look so incredibly good with them..” “my so-called fans don’t think so,” you cup his face with both your hands, his cheeks are soft. you use your thumb to wipe away the tears still shedding.
“then they’re not your fans.. real fans would appreciate and love the new look, i know i do!” he looks at you, eyes all glossy and shiny. tom smiles slightly feeling more comfortable in the compliments you unleash at him.
“my beautiful, handsome boy, how could anyone ever hate this new look? i love it…” he turns his head a bit to kiss the inside of your palm, “thank you, thank you liebling. you don’t understand how much i really needed to hear this,” “anytime! it’s my duty, isn’t it?” “that it is.”
the two of you share a laugh, “now come, let’s get you into bed yea?” you take your hands into his and lead your new, dashing boyfriend upstairs.
“y/n baby, you haven’t stopped touching them ever since we got into bed,” the two of your bodies are intertwined with another, a movie playing in the background as this is how you guys wanted to unwind for tonight.
“not my fault! i’m toootally obsessed, i mean, no sane person wouldn’t be!” “i guess you’re right.” finally, he agrees. he’s been so insecure since this afternoon, and after some time, he’s finally getting used to the hair.
you twirl one of the braids in between your fingers, asking him a bunch of questions such as how long did it take, who did them, and how do we take care of them. to the opposite of your surprise, tom was able to answer all these questions.
you really liked hearing him talk, the reason for this was to also let your boyfriend ramble and forget about all the negativity from earlier.
he was so cute, the way his lips curled upwards into a smile as he mentioned how nice the ladies were when they were doing his hair. the way he licks his lips to wet them after his mouth gets dry from talking too much.
oh, and don’t forget the eye contact.
he will look at you the whole time, endearingly, he will probably tell you later but you can tell how much he really appreciates it that you were so understanding of him and his concerns.
“oh! and they gave me this oil to put in them, and this, uh—silk to put around my head to sleep in, it’s so cool!” he pauses, “you good schatzi?” “yeayea, nothing’s wrong.. i just really like hearing you talk, voice s’nice,” “really? thank you :).”
man, the way he smiled at you.. your boyfriend was extremely beautiful inside and out.
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