#WHERE is the decision. have you ever watched a movie you liked or not. Yes? name them. No? well just say that! 😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

munsonsmixtapes · 6 months ago

Text

Say Don't Go

Evan "Buck" Buckley x fem!reader

summary: tensions rise between you and Buck as you find out that he works for you uncle and he learns you're Bobby's niece, forcing the two of you to make a decision on where your relationship stands

word count: 3k

part one part three part four part five part six

Buck could not believe it. The first woman he was attracted to in months was Bobby’s niece? He really was always getting dealt a shit hand. He was going to ask you out on an official date and bring you flowers and shower you with compliments and make stupid jokes to make the both of you less nervous. He supposed now that it was only a pipe dream. And all because you were related to his boss.

“Bobby, I didn’t know you had a niece,” Buck spoke up, trying to seem nonchalant, as if he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. And he did, the idea of running to the restroom sounding real inviting.

“She’s my sister’s kid,” Bobby replied, pulling you into his side in a protective manner then pointed at the man. “Don’t get any ideas, Buck,” he said with a wink, but the threat seemed very serious. Too bad the ship had already sailed and was on the verge of sinking.

You eyed Buck and shook your head as if to tell him to not come any closer. You wanted to speak to him about the whole situation, but you couldn’t without everyone noticing that the two of you had disappeared and jumped to their own conclusions. You were going to have to meet on your own time to avoid suspicions. Especially Bobby’s.

The man had become very protective of you since the day you were born and would continue to do so until he took his last breath. Since your father was never in the picture, he felt the need to step up and be exactly what you needed. He was there for everything: your first steps, helping you ride a bike without training wheels, your first date. Yes, he sat in the back row of the movie theater, watching the two of you like a hawk, making sure the kid didn’t try anything.

Bobby would not have been happy if he found out that Buck had even looked at you in a flirty manner let alone slept with you. It wasn’t that he didn’t think that Buck wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend, but more like any man wasn’t fit for the role.

You eyed Buck practically the entire time but tried not to draw attention to yourself as you did it. Tension was rising and you really hoped that no one else could see it. Especially since you were the guest of honor and couldn’t fade into the background like you desperately wanted to.

“Everyone,” Bobby stood behind you, resting his hands on your shoulders. “This is my niece, y/n. And I expect you all to welcome her as an honorary member of the 118. She’s going to be here for a while. Y/n, this is Hen and her wife Karen,” he pointed to the Black woman who was standing next to Buck. She gave you a hug and you were quick to return it. “And Buck and his sister, Maddie.” You looked at Buck and didn’t miss the look on his face as your eyes glanced at him to look at his sister. His face was white. Almost as if he had seen a ghost. You ignored it for the moment and tried your best to listen to Bobby’s introductions of his team. “And that’s Chimney,” Bobby gestured to the Asian man who was on Buck’s other side. Oh, you so had to hear the backstory about that nickname. “And Eddie and his son, Christopher.” You turned your attention to one of the most beautiful men you had ever seen and a young boy who was using crutches.

Hugs were all passed around as you were introduced and you all mingled as you sipped on your drinks, waiting for dinner to be ready. You got into a conversation with Maddie about nursing, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to her brother who had been in what looked a deep conversation with Eddie. You couldn’t help but feel like word about your night together was somehow going to get to your uncle and you didn’t even know why you cared so much. You were an adult now and really had no reason to hide to from Bobby. Maybe he’d be a little upset at first, but he’d come around.

“So, that’s the girl you hooked up with the other night?” Eddie asked, holding back a laugh. It was just too good, almost like the plot of a telanovela he’d watched with Christopher. Of course something like that would have happened to Buck. That sounded exactly like something that would have happened to him.

“Yes,” Buck nodded.

“And she’s Bobby’s niece?” All Buck could do was glare at Eddie. It was almost as if he wasn't listening at all. And for once, this was a very serious matter. His life was doomed as he knew it and Eddie was just laughing it off as if it was all just a big joke. And Buck supposed that maybe it was.

“Yes. Weren’t you listening?” He was now on edge, for whatever reason, feeling paranoid that Bobby had been listening even though the man was all the way across the room joking around with Michael.

“Hey, relax," Eddie pat his friend's shoulder. Sometimes Buck just really needed to relax. "I’m just making sure I’m getting the facts right. I can't believe that out of all of the people in Los Angeles that you slept with Bobby's niece. Oh, Chim is gonna get a kick out of this."

Eddie burst into laughter, really getting a kick out of his friend's pain, but he couldn't help it. It was all just too funny to not laugh a little at the unfortunate events of his friend's life. He was just happy that he wasn't in Buck's shoes.

“But you're not gonna tell Chim," he gave Eddie a warning look. "This secret dies with us. And I swear if you tell Bobby-" Both of the men knew that whatever threat came out of Buck's mouth would be empty, but Eddie wanted to know what would have been in store for him if he had broken his promise.

“You’ll do what, Buck?” He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

“I don’t know, but It’ll be bad.”

“Sure, whatever you say, buddy." Eddie gave his shoulder a pat as Bobby had everyone gather around before they all sat down to eat.

“Alright, everyone dinner is served and before we sit, I’d to make a toast,” Bobby spoke up and you could see his eyes getting misty already. “The moment I held you after you were born, I knew that you’d be destined for greatness,” he started and you knew that his speech was going to be a tear jerker just like always.

“I remember when you were three and insisted on fixing my “wounds” with your little doctor’s kit that I had gotten you for Christmas. You told me that you were going to be a nurse and save lives and look at you now. You graduated nursing school and got a job at your first choice hospital. I’m so proud of you, kiddo. So, if everyone would raise their glasses.” Everyone did as they asked as Bobby raised his own that was filled with soda. “To y/n,” he said.

“To y/n,” everyone repeated and they all clinked their glasses together before cheering, giving you a round of applause. After the excitement died down, everyone sat down at the table, the only spot available being the one to the left of you that Buck was reluctant to occupy.

“Oh-“ he said, cutting himself off and everyone was quick to turn to him. To them, it was just the only available seat. To you and Buck, though, it was more than that. If he sat next to you, the awkward tension would only rise and Buck really didn’t want to make it all about him when this was your party.

“You can sit there, Buck,” Bobby told him. “Y/n doesn’t bite.” Buck’s mind immediately flashed to a couple of nights ago when you had done just that. When you had actually bitten him and been the cause of the healing hickey on his neck.

“Yeah, Buck,” youpulled the chair out for him to take a seat. “I don’t bite,” you winked, a joke just between the two of you. Buck hesitantly sat next to you, being very obvious unlike you. He might as well have just told the entire table that the two of you had slept together while he was at it.

“So, y/n,” Hen spoke up. “What’s your position at the hospital?”

“Labor and delivery,” you told her. You always loved the idea of bringing new life into the world and after doing a few residencies and following nurses around who did just that, you knew that was the career for you.

“That’s so admirable,” Hen smiled warmly. Just from what Bobby had told her about you, she was sure that you were going to do really well in the medical field. That you were a hard worker and never took no for an answer. “I’m sure you’re going to do great.”

“Well, thank you. And thank you, Robert, for this amazing celebration,” you gestured to the all of the nurse themed decorations all over the main level of the house and even out on the patio where you were all sitting.

“That was actually all Athena,” Bobby corrected, feeling like he should’ve let his wife take the credit for all the hard work she put in to make the house look nice.

“Well, thank you, Athena,” you turned to the woman she nodded enthusiastically, wanting you to know just how much she enjoyed planning the entire thing for you, knowing that it meant a lot to Bobby because of how close he was to you.

“Of course,” she replied. “It was my absolute pleasure.”

You looked around at everyone sitting at the table and despite not knowing most of them, you felt but nothing but loved sitting at that table, discussing everything and nothing as you all ate the meal that Bobby prepared for you all. You had felt alone your entire life, only having Scarlett, your mom, and Bobby as your family and now all of the people he had been closest to were welcoming you into their world with open arms, and you couldn’t help but feel more lucky.

You hesitantly turned to Buck and noticing him picking around his plate, the dish almost full signifying that he hadn’t really eaten anything. And you didn’t blame him. You hadn’t much of an appetite either considering the whole situation and for a second there, you completely had forgotten about him. It seemed that neither of you had the best luck in the dating apartment, so of course, as fate would have it, you couldn’t be together. Or more like shouldn’t considering the whole situation. It would have just been weird and awkward and maybe it would have just been for the best if you just left it at a one night stand.

Dinner came to a close and by the end of it, you were all sharing funny stories from your careers and just from the one meal you had with them, you knew you were going to enjoy spending more time with them. Maybe if you asked Bobby, you all could have had more meals together like you had heard they did at the 118. You would have really enjoyed that. You were really looking forward to having a real family.

The members of the 118 all lingered at the door like usual, all hesitant to go back to their homes. All except Buck. He was getting antsy to get the hell out of there and to probably never speak to you again. He could run into a burning building without batting an eye, but when it came to his personal life, all he wanted to do was run away. He absolutely hated confrontation and was going to avoid the inevitable as long as possible.

He looked at you, watching you laugh with his sister and could easily see the three of you getting together for dinner. You'd sit next to him and his hand would reach for yours and you'd give him a warm smile as Maddie looked at the both of you, so happy that her brother had finally real, true love.

The dream quickly faded away as Buck accepted that he was going to let you slip through his fingers. The whole thing was just too complicated and he wasn't going to put you through all of that, especially since you were just getting started with your career. You already had too much on your plate and he didn't think there was enough room for him.

"Right, Buck?" Bobby asked, giving his shoulder a pat and Buck turned to the man in confusion, not even aware that he was even being spoken to.

"I'm sorry, what?" You were still swirling around in his mind even though he was trying hard to focus on what Bobby had been saying.

"You're coming in on time tomorrow, right?" He had still been teasing about him being late a couple of days ago and Buck just rolled his eyes. Now he didn't have a reason to be late anymore and he kind of hated it.

"Yes sir," Buck nodded. "Good night, Bobby."

"Good night, Buck." Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze and Buck gave you one last look before turning on his heel to head to his jeep.

You watched Buck walk to his vehicle, wondering why he had said goodbye to everyone but you. What, so he found out that you were Bobby's niece and now he was giving you the silent treatment? How was that fair? Maybe everything that happened that night was all part of an act and now he was just showing you his true self.

So maybe that night wasn't as special to you as it was to him. You had even considered asking him out, but now you guessed you had just dogged a bullet. He was just like the other's and at least this one saved you the headache by ghosting you instead of pursuing you only to show no interest in you the entire duration the relationship. You supposed it saved you some tissues knowing who he was from the get go.

One week later

You pulled up to the fire station, feeling anger course through you as you put Scarlett's car in park. You had tried to reach out to Buck multiple times since the party only to be met by nothing but silence. Even if nothing happened between the two of you, you felt like you at least deserved an explanation. Didn't your feelings matter too? Apparently not to him.

So, you decided to show up the one place he couldn't run from so you could have a conversation with him. You weren't sure how you were going to do that with all those people around, but you'd figure things out. You always did.

You marched into the station, scanning the place for Buck and noticed that everyone was surrounding the engine, wiping it down or cleaning the interior. Eddie was the first to spot you and he pointed wordlessly to the other side of the engine, assuming that you were there for Buck.

You rounded the back of the engine and made a beeline for the man, grabbing onto his arm, pulling him somewhere more private, deciding that right by the bathrooms was really the only spot that was as out of sight as you could get. You stopped there and Buck could practically see the flames forming in your eyes because of how angry you were. Women had been mad at him more times than he could count, but never like that. If looks could kill, he definitely would have been dead.

"You're an asshole," you told him, trying your best not to yell. For once, Buck was very aware of the hurt he had caused. And now he was paying for it. With the way you were balling your fists, you looked like you were going to punch him, and for the first time, he was going to take it because he felt like he deserved it.

"Am I?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. Buck didn't know why he was being such a dick, but now he felt like he had stick with it since he had already committed to the role. He honestly wasn't expecting you to show up. The most he ever got was an angry phone call. Perhaps you showing up was a sign that you weren't willing to give up on him like everyone else.

"Yes!" Your voice was a little loud, but you couldn't have cared less. He deserved to know just how angry you were and for once, you didn't care about embarrassing him. That was the least he deserved.

"I had a really nice time with you. You made me feel special. I hadn't slept with anyone in a long time and I trusted you. I trusted you, Evan. And then you find out that Bobby's my uncle and you run? If you didn't want to see me again, the least you could have done was told me. But no, you're nothing but a coward."

Bobby stood on the other side of the wall, listening to the entire thing. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he had left the restroom just as you and Buck went to block the exit and he couldn't have passed without revealing that he had heard everything and he couldn't have that. At least, not yet. Tension was already high and he didn't want to make it worse.

Bobby didn't know what was worse, hearing that you had slept with Buck, or the fact that he made you cry. So not only did the guy sleep with you, but he also completely ghosted you and hurt your feelings. That was three strikes so Buck was out. At least, for the near future. Just as you were leaving, the sirens went off, signaling that there was a call.

Buck tried to follow you, but Eddie stopped him and Buck watched you leave from over Eddie's shoulder. Eddie turned him around and pushed Buck towards the engine, but Bobby stopped him.

"I'm benching you today, Buck." Maybe it was wrong of him to bring his personal life into work, but nobody was allowed to hurt his little girl. Not even Buck. Especially not Buck.

"Why?" Buck didn't like the assumption his brain was coming to and he really didn't like being benched after being yelled at by a girl he really liked.

"I'm the captain and what I say goes. The dishes really need to be done, so could you take care of that?" With that, Bobby got into the engine and both it and the truck pulled out of the station, leaving Buck with nothing but his thoughts and a sink full of dishes that needed to be done.

#evan “buck” buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #evan buckey x fem!reader #evan buckley smut #evan buckley #evan buckley fluff #911 abc #911 fox #911 show

487 notes · View notes

meazalykov · 2 months ago

Text

on top of the world

alex morgan x actress!reader

summary: 2019 was the biggest moment in your career, and hers.

2019 is a busy year. endgame, the film you've poured your heart into for the last couple of years, is about to hit theaters, and it’s set to be one of the biggest movies in history.

the buzz around it is insane—press tours, interviews, red carpets. you’ve barely had time to breathe, but there’s something, or rather, someone, constantly on your mind. alex morgan.

your relationship with alex has always been something special. it's been private, quiet—at least as much as it could be, considering you’re both public figures. her, one of the biggest stars in women’s soccer, and you, one of the biggest actresses in hollywood.

the rumors about you two have been swirling for months, ever since that time the media caught you at one of her orlando pride games, but you’ve both kept things under wraps. still, it’s getting harder to hide how deeply you care for each other.

alex is about to head to france for the world cup, and you’ve promised yourself you’re not going to miss a single one of her matches, no matter how crazy your schedule gets. she’s been laser-focused on the tournament, and you’ve been equally invested in your work, but that doesn’t stop the late-night texts, the phone calls after her training sessions, the video chats where she shows you around their team hotel.

“are you nervous?” you ask her during one of those late-night video calls, your phone propped up on your pillow as you lay in bed.

“a little,” she admits with a small smile. “but mostly excited. it’s the world cup. we won last time and i have confidence that we will win again.”

“yes! and you’re going to crush it,” you say confidently, leaning in closer to the screen as if that could somehow bring you closer to her. “i know you will.”

“i wish you could be here,” she says, her voice soft, a little wistful.

you feel the same ache in your chest. “me too.”

the group stages kick off, and despite your packed schedule, you make time to watch every game. sometimes, you’re in a hotel room in new york after a bunch of press interviews; other times, you’re sitting on the couch at home, gripping a cup of coffee as the u.s. takes the field.

your heart races every time alex touches the ball. she’s brilliant—strong, fast, lethal in front of goal. you scream when she scores her first goal of the tournament, jumping off the couch like a little kid, and immediately text her afterward.

“did you see it?” she asks later, when she had a few minutes back in the hotel room before she went to sleep.

“i saw everything,” you reply. “you are incredible. i’m so proud of you.”

you’re glued to the screen through each stage of the tournament. when the u.s. faces france in the quarter-finals, you find yourself on the edge of your seat, heart in your throat.

it’s a tough game, and alex looks exhausted, but when the final whistle blows and they’ve won, you exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

then comes the semi-final against england. by now, you’ve memorized every corner of your living room, pacing nervously back and forth.

it’s a tense match, but when alex scores that iconic goal, raising her hand in that cheeky tea-sipping celebration, you burst out laughing, pride swelling in your chest.

“i can’t believe you did that!” you text her after the game, still grinning.

“had to,” she later replies with a wink emoji. “for the drama.”

the u.s. wins, and with that victory, they’re headed to the final. and that’s when you make your decision.

no matter how packed your schedule is with the upcoming premiere of endgame, you have to be there for alex. you clear a few days, book a flight to france, and don’t tell her a word about it.

when you land in lyon, your heart is racing. you can hardly believe you’re here, sitting in the stands with alex’s family, her sisters beside you, chatting excitedly about how well she’s been playing.

the fans around you are buzzing, and a few of them notice you, pointing and whispering. the rumors about you and alex have never stopped, and your presence here only fuels the fire.

“you think she knows you’re here?” her sister, jeni, asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

“nope,” you reply, feeling a thrill run down your spine. “it’s a surprise.”

the stadium is electric. the u.s. faces off against the netherlands, and the stakes couldn’t be higher. you sit on the edge of your seat, fingers crossed, your eyes never leaving alex.

she’s a warrior on the field, pushing through exhaustion, chasing every ball, and leading her team with that fire you fell in love with. when megan rapinoe scores the first goal from the penalty spot, you leap to your feet, screaming with the crowd. then rose lavelle seals it with a second goal, and that’s it.

the u.s. are world champions again.

tears prick your eyes as the final whistle blows. you watch alex drop to her knees, overwhelmed, before being swarmed by her teammates.

the celebration is wild, but you’re still holding your breath, waiting for the moment you’ll finally see her.

and then, there she is, searching the stands, her eyes scanning the crowd. when she spots you, her face lights up like the fourth of july. without hesitation, she runs over, her smile wide and tears of joy glistening in her eyes.

“you’re here,” she breathes, pulling you into a tight embrace, her hands gripping the back of your neck.

you laugh, your heart racing in your chest as you cling to her. “of course i’m here. i wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

she pulls back slightly, her forehead resting against yours, her breath shaky. “you’re supposed to be in l.a. for the premiere.”

“i’ve got a few days,” you say, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “you were worth the trip.”

her eyes fill with emotion as she cups your face with both hands, her thumb gently stroking your cheek. “i can’t believe you did this.”

“you’ve done so much for me,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “this was the least i could do. you’re my world, alex.”

“i love you,” she says, her voice barely audible over the roaring crowd.

“i love you too,” you reply, and the kiss you share feels like the perfect ending to the perfect day.

four days later, you’re back in los angeles, decked out in a designer dress for the endgame premiere. the energy is electric, the press is everywhere, and fans are lining the streets, eager for a glimpse of the stars.

you’ve done the red carpet, given interviews, posed for countless photos with your co-stars. but now, as you wait in the hallway for the theater to open, you’re chatting with scarlett, trying to keep your nerves at bay.

“you nervous?” she asks, grinning as she adjusts the hem of her dress.

“always,” you admit, laughing softly. “no matter how many of these i do, it never gets easier.”

then, you feel it—those familiar hands resting on your shoulders. your heart skips a beat, and you turn around, a huge smile already forming on your face.

there, standing in front of you, dressed in a sleek black suit, is alex.

“alex?” you gasp, eyes wide with disbelief. “what are you doing here?”

she grins, her eyes sparkling with that familiar mischievous glint. “i couldn’t let you have one of the biggest nights of your life without me. you came to france for me, so i had to be here for you.”

you throw your arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug, the world around you fading away. “you didn’t have to do this.”

“yes, i did,” she says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’re my world too, you know.”

you pull back just enough to look into her eyes, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“we’re really doing this, huh? the whole “on top of the world” thing.”

alex laughs, nodding. “yeah, we really are.”

and as the theater doors open, the lights flashing and the crowd cheering, you know in your heart that nothing will ever break what you have.

masterlist

#alex morgan #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #uswnt players #uswnt x reader #san diego wave

277 notes · View notes

soobnny · 1 year ago

Text

classmate au | nishimura riki

❝ did you guys see that? i was the one who taught her how to do that!❞

nishimura riki….

the absolute menace that this boy is

The Class Clown

being seatmates with him is probably the worst decision you have ever made

not bc of him and his jokes !!!!!

no he’s very funny actually

he makes you laugh all the time

he just ALWAYS whispers the wrong answer to you during oral recitation

and you ALWAYS fall for it

“what is the second stage of cell division?”

“meiosis,” he’d whisper so confidently

“m…meiosis?” you ask more to him bc u know he’s wrong but the teacher hears you anyway 😭😭😭

he is just SOOOOO !!!! unbearable

also btw he calls u by ur last name

the type to be close friends with all the teachers

he’d just casually reply to them in class (ofc in a respectful enough manner)

always makes the class laugh

he’s always doing some shit honestly like just don’t try to understand him atp

he likes to switch with the person seated behind you sometimes so he can sit beside a close friend but ALSO so he can play with your hair

ni-ki will just do ANYTHING .. put your hair in poor braids, put it in a ponytail ltrly anything

he has started his own hair salon behind you

tells you not to fix your hair for the rest of the day

so yes you end up sporting his poorly styled ponytail where some strands are sticking out

also the type to draw on your arm

in the case that he doesn’t switch with the person behind you, he’ll just start drawing on your arm

ANYTHING absolutely anything

hearts … maybe even a dick im sorry he is a Man and he will start giggling to himself when he draws it on your forearm

tbh u just let him do it

it’s bc he looks so cute … like he’s so focused on your arm while you’re focused on your teacher

during those class seminars, he is STILL seated next to you

but you guys don’t listen to the speaker most of the time

he’ll have the 8ball app loaded on his phone and you guys will just silently play billiards on his phone

changes ur contact name to “sucks at 8ball”

when it’s his turn to make a move, you try and pay attention to the speaker

but then he nudges your arm to signal that it’s your turn and he hands you his phone so you can make a move

BTW idk how to explain this but the seats r like those in the movie theaters

imagine …. your arms on the same arm rest … side by side …. touching

he is actually so slick with it

unlike jake, you’ll often find him at the volleyball court instead of the basketball court

you enjoy sitting at the sides too

ur friends like playing so sometimes they’d play against riki or on the same team as him and you’d just watch as u wait for ur sibling to get u from school

or until you can commute back home with your friends

sometimes you’d join too

BUT only after telling them you’re bad at the sport over and over and over again and them telling you it’s ok over and over and over again too

you finally join in and play volleyball with them with the reassurance that they’re just playing for fun !!!!!!

honestly it’s so much fun but Menace Riki loves to target the ball in ur direction

(it’s so you can play too since most of the time … the ball doesn’t go in ur direction so ure just awkwardly standing in ur position 🧍‍♀️)

the next day, this mf drags u out of class HIMSELF to the direction of the volleyball court and teaches you how to set

“okay, hands above ur forehead, okay? 😒” and u’re just trying to take his directions

he’d be soooooo annoying when you set a ball properly for the first time too

would ltrly turn to everyone in the court with his loud mouth and start praising you

“hey, did you guys see that?? i taught her how to do that !!! i’m her mentor”

ofc it becomes something about Him instead but it’s just cuz he can’t risk everyone knowing about his big fat crush on you

(sucks to be him bc everyone already knows like … have you seen the way he looks at you?)

he’s secretly so proud and plays volleyball with you to the side instead of playing an actual match

it’s to help you improve

bc he’s your self-proclaimed mentor 🥹

and when his friends drag him to play, he’ll insist you play too on the same team as him

you know how like .. one touch .. two touch .. volleyball is until three right?

ni-ki loves to set the ball or toss it to you so you can actually play too

your hype boy 😍😍😍😍

another funny story with this boy was when you and your friend were on your way to go home

and it started raining

ni-ki’s bff and ur bff r dating ok !!!

so naturally, his best friend leaves his side to shade his gf (ur bff) with an umbrella

now u’re left behind with riki

u do NOT expect him to grab his umbrella, open it up, and tell you to start walking with u

shields you so now you’re following behind ur dating bffs

honestly it’s actually kind of a cute memory

sharing an umbrella .. so romantic 🥰

ofc ur friends tease u !!! those who witnessed it happen and when u and ur friend r safely sheltered from the rain,, riki’s bff starts pushing him and teasing him for finally making a move

the direction ni-ki needs to go to isn’t even where he had walked u to but he still did it so you wouldn’t get sick

ANYWAYS he’s the teasing to get ur attention when he has a crush type so

good luck

expect him to always be up in your business and calling your name out

just embarrassing you in all possible ways

ALL GOOD INTENTIONS i swear

he’s just bad at expressing his feelings

u guys r just an old married couple bickering in class sometimes

your classmates start making bets on when you two will finally start dating

when he finally asks you out, his cocky teasing behavior is just thrown out the window

he stutters and scratches the back of his head and looks anywhere but to you

indirectly asks you out

“wanna eat um street foods after class?”

“who’s coming with,” you’d ask

“JUST ME… just me. just us…”

ltrly something as simple as that has him blushing all over 😭

he has no problem embarrassing u and drawing dicks on ur arms and calling ur name in the hallway and throwing an arm around ur shoulder

but the moment he asks u to eat out with him ?? even just for street food ?? bye he’s so shy and nervous

it’s SOOOO unlike him

“oh, sure!”

his eyes would light up please stop

then his cocky behavior would come back a little .. just enough to be tsundere as he is

“okay… don’t think i wanna hangout with you alone or anything. it’s just a treat for properly setting last time we played vb”

likeeee no one believes you ni-ki

the last time u played vb was like two weeks ago so why r u suddenly treating NOW

it’s actually so cute when u start dating

he has such a Soft Spot for u

LOVES annoying u but is secretly so doting like please

i hate happy couples !!!!!!!!!

i hope u guys r HAPPY <3

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

2K notes · View notes

shawtuzi · 1 year ago

Text

i’m having thee worst plug!eren brainrot rn so here’s some random hc’s for himmm

mdni///cw include: black coded reader, SMUT, a whole lotta tooth rotting fluff, drug usage, major gun kink, talks of mommy and daddy issues, some grisha slander heh, not proofread so there may be some spelling mistakes :((

♡ so it’s goes without saying he is one of those ppl that has no idea what to do when someone’s crying in front of him. he grew up in a household where if he was ever caught crying he’d be told to suck it up and act like a man :(( so it’s very hard for him to find the right words to say or do the right actions when comforting someone. on the bright side he has gotten better at it since he’s met you.

♡ the first time you cried in front of him was when you made the horrible decision to show him the movie ‘my sisters keeper’ and you were an absolute mess by the time the credits rolled. “are you….are you crying?” he asked absolutely flabbergasted that you were crying, sure the movie was sad but was it really that sad?? (yes it is). “of c-course im sad *hiccup* did you not watch any of the damn movie?” you sniffled crossing your arms over you chest. instead of talking about it any further eren just pulled you onto his lap and tucked your face in his neck muttering out a ‘whatever you say weirdo.’ after witnessing many moments like that he’s wayyy better at handling your lil emotional self.

♡ he’s surprisingly a natural with kids!!! one of his homeboys has a three year old daughter who is absolutely too precious for her own good and every time eren sees her he can’t help but turn into a pile of mush. he doesn’t do the whole baby talk thing though he’ll talk to that little girl like she’s one of the homies much to your dismay. one time he bought her a barbie car as a present and the gesture was adorable a first until he opened his damn mouth, “and if any of those kids at the park mess with you just run them over with this and they’ll leave you alone okay? listen to your uncle eren he knows his shit.” that earned him a smack upside the head from you and an exhausted head shake from his homeboy. he rlly is too much.

♡ seeing you with his homies daughter also ignited something in him he’s never ever felt before. eren could never see himself as a dad, maybe the cool uncle but nothing more than that. but goddamn seeing you handle kids makes him wanna buy a big ass house and give you as many kids as you’ll let him—hence his raging breeding kink that appears from time to time. you always wondered why he got so riled up every time he saw you with his friends daughter and then it all started to make sense one night when he was fucking you like a madman and kept moaning n panting about how pretty you’d look carrying his kids. you both came to an agreement that kids were off the table for a while but it didn’t make it any less fun when he stuffed you full of his cum until he was basically shooting blanks.

♡ “g-goddamn fuck y/n,” eren groaned into your ear, emptying his fourth load into your aching pussy. you were absolutely spent—nothing but a babbling, brain dead mess. you thought eren would’ve been too tired as well, but when he pulled his face outta your neck he still had that mischievous glint in eyes that had you folded up in the first place. “m’still hard,” he whispered making you whimper. “no…n-no more ren too sensitive,” you whined making eren hum. he glanced at your thighs that were still shaking from the aftershocks of you previous orgasm, then looked back into your eyes. you knew what he was hinting at and meekly nodded your head making him smile. he slowly pulled out of your pussy, gently shushing you when he heard you whine before sitting back on his knees. he pushed your thighs together and quickly slipped his dick between the pillowy skin, groaning at how soft you felt. “yeah…that’s it you feel so good mama,” he grunted pulling his kiss swollen bottom lip between his teeth. every once in a while he dick would glide across your overly sensitive clit making you mewl. it didn’t take long for eren to reach his peak once again and without warning he parted your thighs and shoved his dick back into your pussy knocking all the air out of your lungs. “so good….always so good for me. my perfect girl i love you do much,” eren muttered breathlessly into your ear.

♡ his love language is words of affirmation hands down!!!! he practically purrs like a kitten when you tell him how much you love him and how much he means to you :((

♡ i don’t think it’s any surprise he’s got some pretty bad mommy AND daddy issues. losing carla at a young age had a monumental impact on him as a kid and grisha didn’t even deserve the title of being a father. his whole life he’s never been able to be vulnerable in front of anyone until he met you ofc. you were his light, his safe haven and he didn’t know what he did to deserve someone as caring and nurturing as you but he never dared question it. you’d only seen him cry one time in front of you and it was when you went with him to visit carla’s grave. he looked like he was holding so much in and it absolutely broke your heart. “it’s okay to be upset eren you don’t ever have to put on that tough façade for me,” you whispered pressing a kiss to his trembling lips that was full of so much love and care he could’ve sobbed. he still has his moments where he closes his emotions off from you but day by day you’re slowly breaking down those walls he built up all those years.

♡ he is a true crime girly!!! he’s one of those ppl that can go to sleep watching the i.d. channel and still sleep peacefully.

♡ you’re a tad bit too clumsy for your own good so eren keeps a thing of bandaids and alcohol in his car and then a small lil box of sanrio themed bandaids in your purse. you thought he was absolutely ridiculous for keeping them on standby until you used damn near all the sanrio themed bandaids.

♡ “not so ridiculous for keeping these around now am i huh?” he chuckled putting the bandaid on your scraped knee. you didn’t say anything instead letting out an annoyed huff, but the annoyance quickly went away when he gave your knee three kisses. “my clumsy girl,” he snickered giving your pouting lips a kiss. “s’not my fault these heels are just too tall,” you mumbled kicking them off in annoyance. eren smirked and reached behind his seat pulling out a pair of fluffy slides, “i knew you’d get annoyed with them eventually—put these on instead,” he said setting the slides on your lap. you tried to your bratty act up but you just couldn’t stop the smile that crept on your glossed up lips, “you’re the best renny,” you giggled giving his cheek a kiss. “i know i am.” cocky ass mf.

♡whenever y’all are at your place it’s such a sight seeing this big, strong, mean man all comfortable in your pink fluffy blankets n cuddling with your squishmallows even though he supposedly has beef w them—but let me not even get into that seriously. sometimes after he’s done beating your pussy up he’ll grab two of your plushies and make them hump each other pretending it’s the two of you.

♡ “yes yes yes eren!” eren moaned on a high pitched voice making your cheeks burn in embarrassment. you tried snatching the plushies from his grip but it was no use he was too damn strong. “oh my godddd eren enough!” you whined smacking his chest, leaving a red handprint in the making. eren’s jaw dropped and he turned to you his brows furrowed, “now that wasn’t very nice was it?” he said turning his head to plushie. “not very nice at all,” he said dropping his voice an octave making you giggle. you moved yourself onto his stomach and grabbed the plushies, tossing them aside. “m’sorry baby,” you pouted giving the red mark a sweet kiss, “let me make it up to you.” and that’s how you ended up face down ass up while eren pounded you from behind, the force making you grab onto your plushies for dear life.

♡ he’s very very into gunplay and it’s all your fault. that day you asked him so nicely to fuck your mouth with his glock was the day you created a monster.

♡ one night you both were at a block party and ‘get low’ by lil jon started playing and you couldn’t help but make your way over to where everyone was dancing and join in. eren admired you from the side taking a hit of his blunt every once in a while. you looked so damn good it was criminal. the way your denim mini skirt began to ride up your thick thighs from dancing had eren’s dick jumping in his pants. while you were dancing you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms around you and knew exactly who it was. “you look so fine dancing out here you’re killing me baby,” he chuckled pushing your backside into his front and that’s when you felt it. you froze in your spot making eren smirk, “you okay mama?” he asked pressing a wet kiss to your neck. not even five minutes later you dragged eren to his car and bounced on his dick while while you sucked on his glock. even though the windows were blacked out anyone with eyes could tell what was happening with the way the car bounced and jostled. “fuck just like that baby make a mess on this dick,” eren groaned, pushing the glock deeper into your mouth.

♡ it didn’t stop there either sometimes eren liked to have you point the gun at his head while he fucked you. “look at my sweet girl holding my—goddamn m-my fucking gun. so damn naughty hm?” he grinned loving the way you were struggling to hold it against his head.

♡ his only social media is instagram and it’s basically a fanpage dedicated to you. his profile pic? a picture of him laying on your ass with the biggest smile on his face. his pinned photos? a picture of you and him with matching grills, one of you both wearing ski masks while his gun is pointed at the camera beam on and everything, and the other one is a pic of you two in a photo booth—you were smiling oh so prettily while one of your boobs was in his mouth. he only follows a few of his friends and the only girl he follows is you ofc not bc you made him only follow you he just chose too <333

♡ now after eren gets locked up life is a little bit different than it used to be. since being a dealer was out of the question he started working at an auto body shop w connie and although he wasn’t making as much money as he was before he still provided for you in every way. you didn’t mind the lack of expensive gifts in the slightest you were just happy your renny was back in your arms. he worked a lot more than he used to which left you a lot more needy for his touch and attention but he always made sure to take care you even after an excruciatingly long day at work.

♡ “missed you so much ren today went by so slow,” you whined against his lips as he fucked into you. he was pretty tired so he went a little slower than he usual fast pace but you didn’t mind in the slightest. “missed you too mama. you’re so sweet f’having dinner ready for me n’ helping me out in the shower,” he groaned pushing his thumb into your mouth which you greedily sucked. he always took a shower as soon as he got off, not wanting to get any oil or other grime from the shop on your pretty clothes. you couldn’t stand to not be in his arms a minute longer so you followed him into the shower and just wrapped your arms around his toned stomach while he showered not saying a word. little did you know in just a few days he’d be taking you on a vacation to barbados (somewhere you’ve been dying to visit) and while you both were there he planned on making you his forever by putting a fat rock on your finger.

3K notes · View notes

padfootagain · 6 months ago

Text

Only an Almost (XIV)

Chapter 14: Heartbreak

Hi! Here comes a new chapter!

Alright, buckle up! We’re up for a wild ride! We are reaching the heights of the angsty mess, from this chapter all the way to chapter 17. Is our girl going to be an asshole? Yes, I’m afraid she’s about to fuck up big time...

Apologies for all the damage that is about to be made in this chapter.

It’s also the first chapter I wrote for this fic! It all started with this mess…

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 3450

Masterlist for the series �� Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It was 11pm, which was early for a night owl such as Andrew, but late for his friends. Neither Sam nor Daphne were nocturnal creatures, and so Andrew answered his phone in a hurry when Sam’s name appeared on the screen. Something had to be wrong. He suddenly wondered where he had put his car keys, in case he needed to leave in a hurry.

“Hello? Andy? It’s me. It’s Sam.”

“Yeah, I know, are you alright?” he asked with worry making his voice deeper than usual, pausing the tv-show he was watching, lounging on his comfortable sofa.

“Yeah, yeah…”

“It’s 11pm, is there something wrong? Is Daphne okay?”

“What? Oh, no! Don’t worry, we’re both fine!”

Andrew heaved a relieved sigh.

“God, don’t scare the shit out of me like that ever again…”

“Did I wake you? I thought you never went to sleep before dawn.”

“Vampires tend to do that indeed.”

“Whose blood did you drink this week?”

Andrew wanted to answer, but he heard Daphne pestering Sam about not having much time, and he merely frowned instead.

“Right… sorry, darling…” Sam mumbled through the phone. “Are you alone, Andy?”

“Erm… yes…?”

“Okay, erm… it’s… it’s about Y/N.”

Andrew sat straighter this time.

“Y/N? Is she okay? Did something happen?”

“No, no… I mean… she’s fine, but…”

“For fuck’s sake, Sam! Spit it out! What’s going on?”

“Look I… I know that you said that I couldn’t tell Daphne about you and Y/N… but Y/N told her, so we’ve talked about you two together…”

Andrew rolled his eyes, lying back down, resting his head on the armrest of the couch.

“It’s alright, Sam… I knew you’d break it to her sooner or later anyway.”

“No, Andy… look… have you talked to Y/N lately?”

Andrew frowned.

“Erm… I don’t know… about… three days ago. Why?”

“I think you should talk to her.”

“Why? Sam, what is it?”

There was a short silence, while the couple exchanged a glance, no doubt.

“Daphne thinks she might take a terrible decision,” Sam answered.

“What kind of decision? What are you talking about?”

Andrew was growing annoyed at this game of riddles. If something was wrong, he ought to know what it was…

But even if he insisted some more, Sam refused to speak.

“Just… call her, and tell her you love her. Tell her to choose you.”

“’Choose’ me? What do you mean?”

“Just… do it tomorrow, will you?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Good… good…”

When he hung up, Andrew stared at the ceiling for a while.

Choose me?

Andrew didn’t need to call you the next day. You were the one to call, and ask him if he was free tonight. You didn’t offer an activity, like you usually would: a movie on Netflix, the cinema, a walk, going to the beach, eating together… There was little ambiguity to the reason behind your demand, and Andrew wasn’t sure whether he was flattered or vexed by it.

He warned you that he wanted to talk to you about something tonight though, and you agreed. You had something to ‘discuss’ with him too. His heart dropped as you spoke those words through the phone. It ought to be some kind of bad news. Or maybe not. Maybe he was reading too much into this, and you meant… to talk about the upcoming wedding, or your job, or… something else entirely. He wondered if you knew that he meant to tell you that he felt more for you than what he had let on.

He parked his car in front of your house, but didn’t climb out just yet. First, he ran through his speech one last time.

I know that you are not looking for a relationship at the moment. But I want more than just sex when it comes to you. To us. Our arrangement can’t go on like this. Again, I understand that you are not in a position now where you want to be in a relationship. And that’s okay. If you tell me that you could give us a chance, I will wait for you. I’ll wait until you’re ready, until your job is more stable and you’ve figured things out in your life. I’ll wait until you want a relationship with me. I have feelings for you, feelings that go beyond a casual fling. And that’s the reason why I’m asking you now to give me a chance. To give us a proper chance…

No l-word yet, you might freak out if he used it. But this speech seemed good enough. Short, to the point. He had written six versions of it this morning.

He took a deep breath, before finally climbing out of his car and walking up to your house.

You were quick to unlock your door and welcome him in. You looked lovely tonight. But then, you were always beautiful…

You went through some meaningless chit-chat while Andrew took off his coat and shoes and followed you down the hall to your kitchen.

You offered him tea without asking if he wanted one. It was late afternoon, but not quite dinner time yet. He could have used some alcohol, but it would have been impolite to ask for some, so he thanked you when you handed him his favourite mug with two teabags plunged in warm water. He leaned against your kitchen counter, his back to your tiny window and your sink while you were facing him, a couple of steps away.

“You… you wanted us to talk about something,” Andrew reminded you, taking a sip of the warm beverage. “And I wanted to talk to you too, so… who should start?”

You were growing nervous, the signs were obvious. In your modern kitchen, there was a window above the sink that let in some golden light. The photons embraced your form, in a way that made Andrew’s heart skip a few beats.

You pushed back some hair behind your ear, pulled on the sleeves of your jumper. Andrew frowned at the sight.

“You’re alright? I can start…”

“No, I… I reckon I should start.”

“Okay.”

He was nervous beyond reason and measure. Andrew dried his clammy palms on his jeans, tried to breathe deeply through his nose, but his heart kept on pounding and his stomach was turning into knots…

You stared at each other for a moment, him expectant and you hesitant. He raised an eyebrow as a silent encouragement for you to speak, but you merely bit on your lower lip.

But then you heaved a sigh, crossed the distance between your bodies in a hurry. Andrew barely had time to blink, and you had grabbed him by the collar, pulling him down to you while you rose to your tiptoes so you could slam your lips to his. But kissing you was a habit by now, and a delicious one too. Andrew’s body was reacting on instinct as he kissed you back, messy and passionate and breathtaking. Your teeth bumped into his in your passion, but he didn’t mind. It was easy to deepen the kiss instead, cradle your face in his hands while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, always closer.

You were making his brain short-circuit, despite the important talk he wanted to have with you. You were everywhere, blurring his senses, making all traces of reason disappear…

Only when he felt your fingers travel down his chest and towards his belt did he stop you, pulling away.

“Wait, wait… stop…”

You immediately took a step back, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re okay?”

“Yeah… yeah… I… look, we… We wanted to talk, like… I think we should, erm, talk before we…”

“Or we can have sex, and talk after that.”

“Is that wise?”

“Do we really need to be wise?”

It was tempting. Too tempting to resist. God, he couldn’t think about anything else but your lips, how inviting they looked, how he wanted to kiss your neck too, he could feel his fingers tickle at the thought of touching all these places of your body, entire landscapes of bare skin…

He blinked a couple of times, struggled to swallow, trying to calm down. But blood was pulsing in his ears, and when he tried to remember his carefully-crafted speech, he couldn’t remember a word…

Fuck all of this…

“Alright,” he nodded. “But we talk tonight… cause it’s important…”

“Deal. Deal. Can I kiss you now?”

“Yes… God, yes, please… please, kiss me…”

You were back in his arms in a second, hands in his hair at first, while his travelled along your frame, from chest to hips and arse, feeling your shape through your clothes. You detached your lips from his to take his hand and guide him to your bedroom.

“We should get dressed to talk,” Andrew proposed, his breathing finally settling back into a regular rhythm.

He threw his condom away in the tiny bean next to the door of your bathroom. He grabbed his underwear as he walked back to your bed and handed you your large jumper.

“You’re too beautiful not to be distracting,” he chuckled, only half-joking, while you put on the piece of garment he was giving you.

He noticed how you looked away, how you seemed uncomfortable, all of a sudden. Instead of joining you in bed once more, Andrew sat down on the edge of the mattress, right next to you.

“So… who should begin?” he asked, voice soft and a little timid. “I… like… actually, I think I should…”

“Andy, I… I think you should get dressed.”

He frowned at that remark, or rather… he frowned at the tone you used. Cold and distant, whispered, and your eyes were still fleeing his.

“Why? Am I distracting too?” he asked with a charming smile, forcing a chuckle out. But you didn’t laugh, merely brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Andrew’s nervous smile soon crumbled.

“Right,” he let out in a breath, blushing hard now, heart racing.

He grabbed his undershirt, slowly put it on while trying to swallow back the lump in his throat.

“Look, I… We should talk about… this arrangement of ours…” he started, but you interrupted him, blurting out words he wasn’t expecting so fast he second-guessed if he had heard you right.

“We need to stop sleeping together.”

He was half-bent to grab his pants when you spoke. He froze, looking up at you, cursing at his long hair when it fell before his eyes and hid you away. He stood back up in a jolt.

“What?”

“We… we need to stop this arrangement. Things have changed.”

And all of a sudden there was hope again, brighter than a sun and blinding every bit of reason in him… And he fell for it. No matter the odds, he fell for it, flew straight to it like a moth ready to be burned at the pyre of your flames…

“Right… things have changed for me too. So, actually, I do think that we need to change things between us…”

“I have a date next week.”

He froze again. Stared at you, too stunned to say a thing, too stunned to protest or ask any question or even comprehend what you were saying.

“I… I have a date with a coworker, Maggie. Next week. So… we should stop this… We said we would if we wanted to try something with someone else…”

A date? Next week? Maggie?

You… you wanted to date again… just… not him…

“But… we’ve just had sex,” breathed Andrew.

It sounded stupid and he knew it, and yet these were the only words he could summon now. The first that came to mind, the only protest he could find.

There were too many emotions all at once. It felt… like falling… falling forever… like the ground being stolen from under his feet. He had no air left in his lungs, and he had forgotten how to breathe.

“Yeah… it wasn’t planned. But I… I just… Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…”

His lip trembled, but his cheeks were still dry.

You were regretting him now?

“I think I just… wanted one last moment with you. Before we’d stop and I would date someone else.”

“So… you… you have a date?”

“Yes, I have a date with Maggie.”

“What do you mean, you have a date with Maggie? Who the fuck is Maggie?”

Andrew stared at you as he was about to cry, and he couldn’t help it. He blinked tears away, but they lingered at the edges of his eyes, ready to fall at your words.

“She’s nice. She works at HR, she’s a secretary. She asked me out, and… I don’t know, I said yes. So… I think we should stop this arrangement.”

“Oh…”

At long last, the information was being recorded in his brain. Andrew shook himself back to earth, turned around, fleeing you and your beautiful eyes, hurrying to put his trousers back on. He almost fell in the process, already looking for his shirt. He felt so exposed like this, so vulnerable, so flawed…

You were going on a date… with someone else… because you didn’t want to date him… he was the fucking problem. He was all along…

“I just… it was… good.”

He nodded, but didn’t let out a sound.

He couldn’t look at you. He would start crying if he did. He needed to run away as fast as he could…

“And she’s nice, you know? And… just… easy. Not like, easy to sleep with, but…”

“I understand.”

Of course, he did. Same argument all over again. And he couldn’t blame you, how could he?

But what if he dropped everything? What if he stopped touring? Stopped the whole music thing?

He thought about what you looked like right now, perfect and dishevelled and still gently glowing after the efforts of love-making. Absolutely perfect. Yeah… yeah… You deserved better than him, no matter the touring or the staying…

“Andy… are you angry?”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t start acknowledging his feelings now. He would start crying if he did.

Where the fuck was his sock?

“I loved the nights we had together,” you went on, apparently unaware of the daggers each of your words planted through his heart, and for the first time in the long years the two of you had known each other, he wanted to stop hearing your voice.

You seemed to need to fill up the silence that Andrew was trying to maintain. Perhaps it was a way to reach out, perhaps it was a way to keep him at bay. He wasn’t certain about that.

“It was nice.”

Where was that fucking sock?!

“Andy?”

He put on his jumper, abandoning the thought of his black sock. He couldn’t lose any more time, he couldn’t breathe properly anymore…

“You’re okay? Can you say something?”

Silence. Only the rubbing of fabric against fabric as Andrew was getting ready to leave. He only had to grab his shoes and jacket in your hallway.

“Andy, wait!”

But he was already outside of your bedroom.

“You can’t be mad at me! We agreed about this, Andy! We agreed that… that… this was nothing but sex! It didn’t mean anything.”

He was blinded by tears when he reached for your doorknob, unlocking the door without seeing the keys he was turning in the lock.

“Andy! Where are you going? Stop! We need to talk about this!”

He shrugged you off when you reached for him.

“Andy!”

But then he was shutting the door behind him, his movement so harsh it shook the doorframe. He hurried to his car while he dried his eyes, refusing to crumble now, in the alley leading to your house.

He drove blindly, unaware of a destination, of a will behind the turns he took and the roads he chose. The words kept ringing in his ears, he couldn’t shut them out, they played on repeat in his busy mind…

This was nothing but sex.

It didn’t mean anything.

Did it not? The way you touched him, the way you kissed him, the way you held him… did it not mean something?!

His hold tightened on the wheel. His jaw clenched until it was painful, until he could hear it.

Nothing. The tenderness in your touch, the fondness in your gaze, the sighs on your lips. The way you held him after it was done, like you needed him to land again gently on the ground, like you held onto a dream before it faded. How you stared into his soul when you connected in the most intimate way possible. How you laughed together until none of you could breathe, how you talked for hours about the most meaningless things and the most intimate parts of your lives. How you let him be yours, how you almost let yourself be his…

Only an almost…

He parked the car before a house he had always called home, and it was only then that he realised where he was. He stared at the familiar door of his parents’ house, the curtains behind the windows, the light that came through them.

So, you had let him love you, and it meant nothing at all?

He turned off the engines, stared at the house for a suspended moment. What would he do now? He couldn’t possibly face you again after this. He was about to lose you for good; because after having a taste of what loving you felt like, he couldn’t go back to being a mere friend. No… no, he wasn’t strong enough for that. For seeing you happy with someone else, knowing that you held him close for a moment only to let him go, because he wasn’t enough.

He picked up his phone, ready to do something stupid, something he would regret the second his thumb would press send. He typed the text under your name.

If I gave up on touring, if I stayed home… would you give me a chance? Would I be enough if I weren’t just a ghost?

He heaved a sigh, resting his head against his seat, head tilted upwards in his exhale. He blinked tears away, staring at the dark ceiling of his car.

Did you really feel nothing now? Did it not hurt at all for you? Not even a little bit? Not at all?

Andrew didn’t press send. He deleted the text, opened the door, climbed out of the car and into the street bathed in an inky darkness and orange streetlights. His feet guided him to the safest place on Earth while he tugged his phone into his pocket. His right foot was hurting in his shoe without a sock on. He didn’t even notice.

It took his mother a moment to open the door, nothing surprising at this hour. She saw him through the glass of the backdoor, and her eyes grew round. Andrew finally noticed he was crying.

The door opened in a hurry, bumping into Raine’s foot in the process.

“Andy? Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

His lower lip trembled as he stared at his mother, hands digging further into his pockets, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His throat was too tight to speak.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes a little as she guessed, aiming straight for his heart.

“Is it Y/N?”

He opened his mouth to answer but all that he could let out was a sob. His legs were shaking, he could feel all of his strength leaving his body. He barely registered his own moevements as he bent into his mother’s arms, folding around her frame.

“Oh, Andy… here, it’s alright. It’s gonna be okay, darling. It’s okay. I’m here, I’m here…”

She rubbed his back, in this soothing movement that had never failed to appease him ever since he was a child. His voice was a hoarse whisper when he let out the most painful words he had ever pronounced.

“She doesn’t love me, mom. She doesn’t feel anything… What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do without her?”

She let him cry for a moment longer, his father calling from the living room to know who was at the door. Raine merely answered with her son’s name, and gently pushed him upwards so he would stand straighter again.

“Well, for a start, I’m going to make you a cup of tea, with a lot of honey. And then, we’ll figure out the rest.”

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier x fem!reader #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

199 notes · View notes

darsynia · 5 months ago

Text

Banana (Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Steve unexpectedly stayed over, and you want to make him the best breakfast ever.

Length/Warnings: 1,700 words | sexual contact

It's your ACTUAL BIRTHDAY @ronearoundblindly!! For banaNA, the delicious centerpiece of my 7 Ro Roll stories, we've got an established relationship morning interlude of teeth-rotting fluff. Enjoy!!

Excerpt:

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

Banana

You really hadn’t expected your boyfriend to sleep over. It wasn’t the traditional date where you dress up in something beautiful and eat out at a ritzy restaurant, then come home and undress to experience something beautiful. It was the kind where he comes by with takeout and the two of you watch movies until you both fall asleep on the couch.

Still, you’d like to make the morning intentionally special for Steve.

You can’t ask him what he likes for breakfast while he's in the shower, but you're sure he has a metabolism-stimulating plate of protein every morning, looking like that. After assessing what's in the fridge, you make the decision to go all-out. He’d been used to mess hall communal meals back in the army, right? Plus, there's a kitchen in the Compound, so he probably makes his own breakfast. You lose a few minutes just picturing that.

Ten minutes later you’ve made him a plate with two kinds of eggs, sausage patties, buttered toast, and a little cup of sliced strawberries. The glass of orange juice ended up using the rest of the carton, but you can always buy more.

You wait with bated breath with your own breakfast, a generous bowl of oatmeal with your favorite fruits garnished with brown sugar. Steve doesn’t need to know those were the only eggs, nor that you made him the last of your sausage.

“Wow that smells great, are you setting up your crock pot or something?” he calls out from the hallway. You grin, excited for the surprise. Soon he’s coming into the kitchen, still drying his hair off with one of your towels. He smells amazing, and everything about the moment is exactly what you’ve always wanted.

Except… he looks uncomfortable.

“Please tell me you’re not allergic to eggs,” you fret.

“Oh, those are for me?”

“Well, yeah, look at the size of the plate! I guess if you want the oatmeal…”

He’s walking into the wide kitchen doorway, disappearing behind the wall for a moment (during which your mind races, thinking of all the things you could have done wrong. Does he dislike pepper? Allergic to citrus? What if he hates sausage? Why did you think this is a good idea!?).

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s got a banana in his hand, along with a fork, knife, and spoon. “Together, we’re a table setting,” he jokes, holding them up.

You almost facepalm-- you’d completely forgotten silverware. “Thanks.”

After the eggs and fruit are gone (accompanied by many enjoyment noises that punctuate your discussion of baseball), he points at the empty bowl of strawberries with a neatly-sliced piece of sausage on the end of his fork.

“You should know, I usually only eat a banana or some sliced fruit like this for breakfast, but this is delicious. Thank you.”

You conjure up the least embarrassed smile you can manage, but inside you wonder whether his honesty is warring with his sense of politeness.

“You’re asking yourself if I’d lie to make you happy, aren’t you?” he asks.

“Guilty,” you sigh. “I’m glad you said something before I made this mistake multiple times in the future.”

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

He stands, coming over to take your hand and draw you solicitously up to your feet for a sweet, brief kiss. Steve's expression turns more serious, and he looks you right in your eyes.

“I’m hungry.”

You cannot be reading him right. It’s wishful thinking.

“There’s still that bana--”

Steve interrupts you with another kiss. It’s full of passion--a rough hand at your hip, thumb caressing your cheek, teeth scraping out of desperate sloppiness. The man is wrecking your mental health, but you’re right there with him, slowly filling up with heated liquor at every swipe of his tongue. He lifts his head and smiles gently, his lips twitching for a few seconds before he leans his head back and laughs.

Two months ago you would have thought he was laughing at you.

One month ago you’d have nervously played along in confusion.

Now you shove at his shoulder in mock frustration. “Out with it!”

“I can’t pull off that line, I’m sorry! I did my best,” he confesses sheepishly. “I woke up in the middle of the night on the couch with you asleep on my chest and texted Clint about what to do.”

“Oh, God,” you say, trying valiantly to hold back a giggle. “Why Clint?”

He backs up into the kitchen with his hands held up defensively. “I thought I could trust him! I figured Natasha would give me… questionable advice,” Steve says, “--and neither of us wanted me to ask Tony.”

“Oh, God,” you say again, this time in actual dismay.

“Exactly.” He pulls out one of your leftover containers and its matching lid, and holds them up.

He looks so good in his tight pants and form-fitting t-shirt that you gather up all of your Steve-loves-me courage.

“I thought you were hungry?” you say impudently, walking over and taking them out of his hands to set on the counter. Sliding your arms up around his neck, you kiss him with as much fervor as the kiss just minutes ago, letting your hands roam into his hair, down over his arm muscles, and finally to your goal, his waistband. Because you want his full permission before you do anything further, you mouth your way from his lips to his jaw, so he can say something if he needs to. If his enthusiastic participation in the kiss so far is any indication, though, there’s hope he’s up for it.

You circle the button of his pants with your thumb, slipping your fingers past his waistband. He hasn’t put on a belt yet, and there’s something intimate about it that’s beyond anything sexual, like he trusts himself to be not fully put-together around you. Falling asleep on the couch with you is one of those kind of things, too.

Steve whispers your name in a hoarse voice that’s rich with desire.

“Yes?” you question, hoping you’re not pushing too much.

“Yes.”

Arching up to give him a kiss, you release the button and push the zipper down slowly, as much a caress against his groin as anything else. Steve throws a hand out to the side, and you feel a surge of excitement to think he’s so enthusiastic already.

“Here,” he says, throwing the towel that usually hangs from the oven on the floor at his feet, eyes full of amused apology. “Believe me, I’ll want to hold on.”

It’s so Steve Rogers to worry about your knees.

There’s nothing you can say that won’t sound terribly gauche or overeager, so you kiss his chest and pull his pants down to his feet, kneeling as you go. You look up at him, holding eye contact as you tug down his boxer briefs--but you don’t have the bravery to keep his gaze for your first taste.

Steve’s holding himself rigidly still, but you can feel his leg muscles tighten up even more when you take him into your mouth. It’s validating as hell. You pull back, sucking, loving the feel of him, warm and vibrant and wanting you.

At that point you let yourself bliss out, eyes closed and fully attuned to him. When he makes a guttural little sound of need after you do something, you add it to the rotation, and when he starts to rock his hips forward, you quicken your pace. Everything is perfect; the crease of the towel digging into your knees, the taste of precum in your mouth, the searing ache between your legs, and most of all, how alive Steve is under your tongue, against your hands, in your throat.

“Ahhhhh,” he groans, and slams a hand onto the counter. You realize you’d hummed in happiness, and god, he’d loved that. You let out a little moan of pleasure of your own at the thought of just how wet you’ve got to be by now.

As a reward for you both, you hum again.

That sends him, starting a glorious chaos of holding on and taking it all in. When Steve reaches down and flails at your hair and shoulder, you let him pull you up and into his arms. Steve holds you tight to his chest, right each there against the counter with his pants around his ankles, each of you pulling as much oxygen and approval into your bodies as you can.

He pets your head and leans down. “Want to know what Clint said to tell you if the first line worked?”

Two months ago you were sure you weren't good enough for him and it could never last.

One month ago you’d have worried this levity was a sign you'd done a bad job.

Now, you glare up at him in utter adoration.

“If it’s something about being barefoot in the kitchen, Rogers, I’m going to go to the bedroom and finish by myself.”

“Never mind,” he says, moving sideways just long enough to get a hand on his pants to tug them up. He does the button but not the zipper, then picks you up, heading into the hallway. At the doorway to your bedroom, Steve fucking Rogers looks down at you with a loving expression and says, “Don’t worry. I’d never leave you behind.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #fluff #established relationship #captain america x f!reader #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x you

188 notes · View notes

obvi-the-best-soph · 2 months ago

Text

Just a little bit in love.

alexia putellas masterlist: here

genre: pure fluff warnings: none

word count: 688

summary: you're a social media admin for barcelona femeni, and engaged to alexia putelllas. you sit with mapi at lunch, mapi making the grave mistake of asking how you and alexia were doing.

When you first came to work for FC Barcelona in 2015, you were under the impression you would be filming and helping run pre and post game press conferences for the men’s team, however, when you showed up on your first day, an iPhone was thrust into your hands and you were sent out to where the pitch where the Femeni team was training. That was when you first met eyes with Alexia Putellas, long story short, very quickly after that training session ended, Alexia asked you out to dinner, and now, nearly 10 years later, you’re engaged and happier than ever.

At the moment, Alexia is sick, practically her least favourite thing in the world as it means she has to miss training and interviews and practically put her whole life on hold. You hate her being sick too, because she gets a bit huffy and tense and refuses to try and sleep it off, instead still attempting to do all the things she does at full health, even the time when she should probably of been hospitalised with an awful case of Covid during the pandemic a few years back, she still took Nala out for a walk everyday and made lunch for you both every. Single. Day.

But there was another reason you hated her being sick, because now, you had no one to sit with during lunch. So you decided to just sit alone, until a ridiculously-cheerful-for-a-Monday Mapi ungracefully plonked herself down into the seat in front of you, grinning.

“Hola chica. How’s your day been?” she asked, starting on her avocado.

“Yeah alright thanks, kinda missing Ale. It’s boring when you aren’t just filming your fiancee and posting videos of her on Instagram all day,” you reply with a teasing smile, beginning to eat your own lunch.

“Oh yeah, it sucks, her not being here. I had no one to annoy in the locker rooms this morning. How are you guys going anyway? I think her and Ingrid are trying to organise another double date." She rolls her eyes slightly, but is still smiling, earning herself a firm poke in the bicep from the now slightly annoyed and huffy Norwegian sitting next to her.

The second Mapi asks how you and Alexia are doing, your eyes light up more than they have all day, one of your favourite things to do was to gush over how amazing and sweet she is.

“Well,” you start, and Mapi already looks like she’s regretting asking.

“She takes me out for dinners and she holds she door, and she pulls out my chair and she holds my hand,

And she *always* calls me 'pretty' or 'beautiful,' not 'sexy' or 'hot'. She never forces me into anything I don't want to do. She sends me good morning and good night texts everyday. She writes me little cards listing all her favourite things about me, just because she felt like it.

She kisses me so gently it's like she's not even there, she'll carry me to bed if I fall asleep on the couch while we watch a movie. She tries to teach me football skills even though she knows I’m terrible at it.

And she slow-dances with me in the living room after a few glasses of wine while it rains....

She learnt how to cook my favourite dinner. She carries my heels and gives me her jacket when we walk home from restaurants. She gets all flustered and refuses to look any time I wear anything low-cut…

She reads to me until I fall asleep-” Your little love rant is cut off by Mapi’s childish fake-gagging sounds.

You laugh huffily and playfully shove her shoulder, “Oh shush María, you were the one who asked.”

“Yes, and I regret my decisions. You two are so mushy, it’s gross. I hate to say it, but I think you might be just a little bit in love.” She retorts with a teasing grin.

“Just a little bit.” You agree, smiling as you get up to put your plate in the dirty dishes pile and get back out onto the pitches.

#woso #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon #platonic!mapi leon x reader #fc barcelona #fc barelona femeni

88 notes · View notes

choerypetal · 1 year ago

Text

Together. / Mike Schimdt

Authors Note : So I just happened to watch the FNAF movie and my god it was so good, with a hint of good Lore in it. Also the cast was perfect and ever since watching it, I had a thought of writing a quick one shot for Mike and Y/N. Where Y/N suffers from hallucination and has the same symptoms but a different kind of illness than Abby's. Suggesting that they see also the kids but also the man who's being everything, not only controlling them and their life styles, resulting in a lack of sleep pattern and tons of trauma.

Enjoy!

Ps : Pls don't repost or copy and paste my works. Everything is written by me, and also note that English isn't my first mother language, so I apologize in advance if there is any grammar errors. I tried my very best.

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

From one call to another, Mike encountered an unending stream of repetitive "nos" and polite rejections for the position he sought. It dawned on him that he might be the source of the issue, especially after the peculiar "incident" that may have left a stranger somewhat shaken. A few days post-dismissal, someone finally directed him to visit the office of Steve Raglan, a man he had never met before. Today presented the perfect opportunity. Mr. Raglan fit the mold of a man from a bygone era, with his distinctive round glasses and traditional attire. Michael's growing apprehension made him wonder if venturing into this place had been a poor decision all along.

A hushed pause enveloped the room as Mr. Raglan perused Mike's professional background with casual interest. "Well, Mike..." He paused in the midst of his sentence, stealing a quick, appraising glance in his direction. Mike responded nonchalantly. "Yes?" His voice, however, lacked the self-assuredness he longed to convey.

"Care for some coffee?" Steve's inquiry was succinct yet brimming with anticipation as he strolled toward his coffee machine. Mike hesitated, then replied, "Um... No, thank you. I'd rather get this done quick." Deep down, Mike yearned for a stable job, one that would enable him to look after his sister, Abby, and perhaps even sway their aunt to grant them custody.

Steve sensed the growing impatience in his client, who was eager to learn what the future had in store. "You know," Steve remarked, returning to his chair, his voice now tinged with excitement – a side effect, Mike presumed, of his coffee intake. "I recognize this place. It's a place where someone like you would give anything for the job..." A spark of curiosity ignited within Mike as he leaned closer to Mr. Reglan, raising an intrigued brow. "And," Mike inquired. "what makes this place so special?" Steve paused briefly, carefully choosing his words. "Well, you see..."

Mike found himself utterly perplexed by the revelation before him. The location had not only been abandoned since the '80s but also, the job requirements were far from aligning with his original intentions. The compensation was dismal, and he couldn't help but suspect that perhaps none of the previous security guards had been paid properly either. Or not paid at all. It involved a shift he had no expertise in and had no intention of pursuing, particularly after having to bail on his babysitter to bring Abby with him. It was an unequivocal "No." He declared firmly, convinced that this man was even more cynical than he was.

"Are you absolutely certain? Your resume suggests you're more than capable for the position." Mr. Raglan made one final attempt to persuade, his features softening subtly from their earlier rigidity. However, Mike shook his head once more, resolute in his decision. He muttered briefly about the job being the primary source of his conflict, preventing him from seeing Abby or ensuring she had a decent meal, not to mention avoiding losing custody to his aunt. With determination, he rose from his chair, ready to leave the office. Just as Mike was about to exit, Steve handed him his business card, his demeanor marked by a slight pout, swiftly followed by a confident smile. "Just in case, take this," he suggested. Mike, though hesitating for a moment, accepted the card out of politeness and left the office without a word.

After his meeting with Mr. Raglan, Mike's quest for the ideal job seemed to come to an unfortunate conclusion. None of the places he had contacted before his appointment with the advisor, and none since, had offered him any promising prospects. He was beginning to contemplate that maybe accepting the night shift at this particular place was the most feasible option for now. If nothing else, it would provide him with a source of income, and the busy night hours might keep his mind occupied. What enticed him even more was the prospect of being his own boss, with no co-workers to influence his ever-present paranoia. This thought made him more determined than ever to give it a try.

On that very same day, as Abby engrossed herself in her beloved TV shows, Mike settled in to tackle his usual paperwork. It was a task he wasn't particularly fond of, especially considering how the bills seemed to climb higher with each passing month. Even though they were essentially the same, being currently unemployed gave him the impression that each payment had somehow inflated. Just as he was wrapping up his tax payments, a business card slipped through the paperwork, piquing his curiosity and triggering an unexpected flashback.

He hesitated for a moment, contemplating the significance of the card, and then made an impulsive decision. Michael picked up the card and dialed Mr. Reglan's number.

Silence greeted Mike on the other end of the line, as if Mr. Raglan had anticipated the need to give him some space before speaking. "Hello, Mr. Raglan, it's Mike." He began, slightly perplexed. Oddly enough, he could almost sense the man's smile from the other end of the call. It was a whimsical, knowing smile, as if the company had despaired of finding anyone willing to take on the position. Advising Mr. Raglan to take anyone who had agreed upon the offer. "The man who doesn’t do night shifts..."

“How may I help you?”

He hesitated for a moment, taking a deep gulp. Ultimately, if he hoped to secure some much-needed income by the end of the month, Mike felt he had no choice but to go for it. With trepidation, he inquired about the availability of the job position. Mr. Raglan's response was swift and affirmative, exuding a sense of warmth toward the young man's inquiry. Encouraged by this, Mr. Raglan asked, "So, from the seemingly random question, can I assume you are accepting to be the Night Guard? Is that correct?"

“Yes.” Mike firmly agreed.

“Well!” Mr. Raglan exclaimed with a beam smile written on his features. “Now let me explain you everything you need to know…”

Mike's first night turned out to be anything but simple, despite his initial expectations. Although he had assumed it would be a straightforward affair, the reality hit him when he arrived at the Pizzeria. Mr. Raglan had painted an enticing picture, but the reality was far from appealing. The exterior of the place was drab, with a sign in disrepair, and an entrance that appeared older than Mike himself. The eerie atmosphere left him questioning the wisdom of his decision to accept the job. However, the need for money was a compelling motivator, so he soldiered on.

As he stepped into the building, he recalled being informed that the technology was outdated yet operational, suggesting that someone had been there before him to maintain it. Regardless, as long as their shifts didn't overlap, it was a situation he could live with. However, as he prepared to settle into his office, a profound sense of isolation crept over him. Or perhaps it was a feeling he had merely convinced himself of.

On that very night, Mr. Raglan had called for a check-in, a practice that you found rather unsettling. It only served to worsen your already fragile sleep schedule as the weeks passed. What made it even more distressing were the persistent, haunting visions of them replaying in your mind – flashbacks of their appearances at the restaurant and even inside your own home. But what set your anxiety spiraling was the presence of an eerie figure intertwined with these visions. This haunting scenario ultimately drove you to seek medical attention at the hospital due to severe sleep deprivation. After that harrowing incident, it's safe to say that your eyes would seldom close.

You had also received a rather cryptic warning to keep an eye on the new night security guard, as if your job wasn't demanding enough on its own. Strangely enough, you had never laid eyes on the big boss, nor had any idea what he even looked like. All you knew was that he had a penchant for privacy and seemed to have great faith in Mr. Raglan's knack for providing these kinds of employment opportunities.

As you cruised through the town, dressed in your security guard uniform, you made a pit stop at the convenience store. There, you grabbed some instant coffee and a few snacks to keep yourself alert during your night shift. It wasn't as if you desperately needed them, but considering the unpredictable behavior of the animatronics, especially on the new security guard’s very first day, you opted to stay on high alert. After all, it had been who knew how long since you'd managed to keep your sanity intact while enduring the trials of this dismal place.

You had casually mentioned to Vanessa that you had a few errands to run. She appeared as exhausted as you, both of you affected by the recent ordeal involving the security guard. You couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor guy, always caught in the middle of chaos and associated with the color purple. It seemed absurd that something so innocuous could be the root of all these problems, but you quickly dismissed such thoughts. After paying the cashier and expressing your gratitude, you left the store behind.

Mike's night was surprisingly going well, and he mused, "It's not as bad as I thought." Despite his seemingly confident tone, he remained alert and cautious. While you had explicitly advised Vanessa not to come and check on you, yet she did precisely the opposite. Mike suddenly became aware that he was not alone. Could it be a burglar? He had been sternly warned against letting any strangers in, and he was determined to follow that advice. However, Vanessa's impressive familiarity with the Pizzeria allowed her to slip in through an alternate entrance, demonstrating her knowledge of the place. Leading Mike into desperate urgent major. Finding the burglar.

Meeting Vanessa had caught him off guard, and he was momentarily taken aback by her unexpected presence. Vanessa, however, took the initiative to speak on his behalf. "You must be the new security guard," she observed. Mike, still trying to process who this woman was, offered a hesitant nod, prompting a chuckle from Vanessa at his reaction. "I'm Vanessa," she introduced herself, her tone light. "Security guard by day, and assistant by night."

"Assistant?" Mike scrutinized her, contemplating whether he should call the big boss to confirm her role. However, Vanessa reassured him, saying. "No need to. The big boss called Y/N to fix Foxy's lair."

"Y/N?" Mike inquired, skepticism evident in his voice. "And why should I take your word for it without any proof?" He stayed close to the camera footage and swiftly switched to the next camera, which was focused on Foxy's area. Everything appeared to be in pristine condition, suggesting the entire place had been left deserted. "And who is this... Y/N?"

Vanessa pointed at the screen displaying the main entrance, where you were standing, clearly aware of the camera above. You cheekily flipped your finger at the camera, leaving Mike torn between the belief that Vanessa was indeed present or that the security guard was merely doing his job, and she wasn't there at all.

"I informed them that I wouldn't be around, but they are rather fragile. They are being advised to be checked on during their shift." Vanessa explained. "While I focus on the animatronics to avoid raising any suspicion, I suggest you go and check on them.”

The instructions were unmistakable, and Mike had little choice but to comply. "But... what if the boss finds out I'm not at my station?" He voiced his concern. Vanessa couldn't help but chuckle softly, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. "Don't fret. He's already aware." She reassured him, her expression tinged with a hint of guilt.

"Great," Mike muttered with an eye roll as he returned to monitoring the main entrance. He couldn't help but steal a glance at your figure, noticing how cold you seemed on this early fall night. He could practically see you shouting on the other line, "Hey, jerk! Let me in, it's freezing out here!" Even though he couldn't hear your words, he could tell from the expression on your face. In response, he finally granted you access, and you muttered with relief. "About time..." just before stepping inside.

As you stepped inside, the interior of the place made you acutely aware of your luck, albeit in an eerie way. It was undeniably creepy, yet you had an inexplicable sense of safety and even felt oddly welcomed. Foxy, known to be the most terrifying and historically the meanest of them all, somehow found solace in your presence. You could have sworn that at times, his eyes seemed to lower, watching as you tended to him. It was as though he had a hidden identity, not quite ready to reveal his true nature, you suspected.

As you wandered through the Pizzeria, Mike couldn't help but notice your diminutive figure amidst all the towering animatronics. He found it difficult to fathom how someone so petite could be employed in this establishment. He murmured his thoughts to Vanessa, nudging her gently. "Maybe we—" He began, but she quickly interrupted, saying, "Not now."

As you finished repairing Bonnie, the big boss tasked you with fixing Foxy, who had been acting strangely. It struck you as odd because Foxy typically only reacted to potential intruders. He preferred targeting moving objects over those playing hide and seek until they got too close. You made your way up to his lair, pulled back the curtains, and revealed his silhouette. "Seems like someone's been naughty lately..." Your voice usually provided comfort, but today it had an odd tone. "Have you...met the new guard?" You found it rather absurd to be talking to a robotic entity, particularly one as poorly and cheaply programmed as you had discovered. If there was one thing you wanted to tell the big boss, assuming you ever met them, it was to consider upgrading the gear if they ever thought of opening another Pizzeria.

On the other end, Mike observed you with a watchful eye. It didn't take long before you began repairing Foxy's arm and his body started to glitch unexpectedly. "Weird... I thought—" Your words were abruptly cut off by a loud and startling BANG. Foxy's eyes were now fixed on you, but they were different from what you were used to. They were red and filled with anger, just like in your recurring nightmares. In that harrowing moment, you froze in place, uncertain of what to do next. "Y/N!" Vanessa's voice came through the walkie-talkie, but you couldn't hear it. Everything around you felt vacant, as if you were about to become Foxy's last meal of the night... or so you feared.

An arm swiftly reached out and pulled you close to its owner. Mike clutched you tightly, and a sense of terror and dread washed over both of you. It was Mike who managed to break free from the grip and make a dash for the monitor room, but just as he got there, Bonnie arrived, blocking his path. "Damn it," he cursed, frantically scanning for an alternate route. You, from your vantage point, weakly directed him, "The first aid room...to the right."

Without uttering a word of thanks, which, given the gravity of the situation, seemed secondary to getting you to safety, Mike finally brought you to the emergency room. It was a room that had seen far too much use, but oddly enough, everything seemed to return to normal once you arrived. The animatronics had moved elsewhere, and for some reason, they couldn't access the area. This brought a sense of relief to Mike. He carefully placed your body on a rather shabby bunk bed and softly murmured, "Here..." You remained in a state of shock, your eyes wide as if your body had been frozen in place. "Hey," He attempted to reassure you, "you're safe now. Vanessa should... Great job, Mike, real smooth." He berated himself inwardly for his awkward choice of words.

Upon hearing Vanessa's presence, you lifted your head abruptly, your eyes brimming with tears you were trying to hold back. Just when you thought of her, she appeared, precisely knowing where to find you. You felt a mixture of relief and concern as she leaned in to inspect you for any wounds or scratches, cupping your face and keeping her gaze locked on you. "Has they had any water?" Mike, who was present to assist, appeared increasingly nervous this time. Being new to this place, he didn't know everything either. "Where... Where is it?" He stammered, quickly searching the room. Vanessa pointed in the direction, her eyes never leaving you. "The first storage room to the left."

"Y/N, look at me." Vanessa implored, his voice filled with unease. "The man doesn't exist. He's not here... He's a fictional—"

Nervously, Mike handed the water bottle to Vanessa, who then offered it to you. This time, you shook your head vigorously, tears streaming down your face. "No! I saw him. Foxy spoke his name to me! It can't just be in my dreams!" You pleaded, desperate to convince them, despite your previous breakdowns being labeled as delusional by past doctors. As you shook your head, you realized that Mike was beside you. You clung to his arm, causing him to gulp nervously, just a little. "You have to believe me... Please..."

Mike found it hard to believe, even though you had clearly experienced a breakdown in that moment. While it was entirely understandable, he tried to do the same thing Vanessa did. "Perhaps you should just take a moment to breathe." He suggested. "Whenever I'm in a state of panic, my doctor advises me to take deep breaths." You observed him closely and countered. "And does your doctor say you're insane?"

Insane…

As undeniable as the truth was, it struck Mike that perhaps you were right. Everything seemed so peculiar when it came to Abby and Y/N's imaginary friends, especially with Vanessa working so hard to conceal her friend's breakdowns. "You know... now that you mention it..." Mike began, leaning in to discuss it further. Vanessa attempted to nudge him away, but you allowed him to continue. But he stopped. And by locking eyes with each other, you both knew something was wrong with this place. So in response, you leaned in and wrapped yourself in his arm. There was something about him that felt like home. You felt protected and, for once, someone truly understood you.

On the other hand, Mike comforted you with a few soothing rubs on your back. He glanced at Vanessa, who seemed to share the relief but carried a heavy load of guilt inside, which she wasn't ready to disclose to either Mike or you. “Shh… I got you.” He said, with a soothing voice that remembered it as your older brother. Not letting it go he continued. “We are going to get through all of this together… Y/N.”

“Together…”

In the distance, Abby observed the trio with Foxy's humanoid presence beside her. Foxy, who felt a deep sense of guilt for what he had done to them just hours ago, hesitated to intervene to bring Y/N back to him. However, as he watched Mike and you, he felt a strong urge to protect you, jealousy even you were a mother figure for everyone, but especially Foxy. Abby noticed his face changing into hatred until she halted him with a reassuring smile. "There's no need," Abby whispered. "They have found someone... Someone who truly cares for them. Someone who will love and protect them."

Foxy silently observed the scene unfolding before his eyes, and as he heard Abby's words, he felt a sense of relief welling up within him. Watching it all happen, Foxy came to realize that Abby was indeed right. Y/N had found someone they could genuinely rely on, someone with whom she could openly express their feelings..

Fin.

769 notes · View notes

anonymouscheeses · 2 months ago

Text

Im sorry i have to say it..: Get Your Hands Dirty sounds like a love song.

HEAR. ME. OUTT!! (No i dont mean a love song between Chloe n Ella omg 😭)

What I'm implying here is that it sounds like one of those niche high school love stories when one of the lovers(most likely a goodie two-shoes) goes to their mentor/parent/even the person their loving/etc to ask for advice on relationships. Or more specifically, if this person is worth it or even a good person. From the top of my head: I Won't Say (I'm In Love) and the goodie and the wildchild dynamic is pretty similar to Gabriella and Troy from hs musical, which iws(iil) kinda inspired this post tbh but also ive been thinking about this ever since i first watched the movie. (You plop in ur own songs, i js KNOW this trope exists)

Now that we've established the well used niche trope existing in this niche song made by the niche king that is Disney.... why do i think that Get Your Hands Dirty is a love song, i hear?

Lets analyze THE LYRIICS 😈😈

"Right and wrong, cruel and kind, who's to say?" "There's a code that I believe in."

"Robin Hood" "yeah?" "Awesome guy" "yeah!"

"Every choice, you're gonna find there's shades of grey." "There are rules for a reason!"

"So you could then cross that line, theoretically."

"You'd agree?" "But he stole for the poor."

"The decision's always up to you. When there's only one thing left to do"

"I don't know you anymore.."

Okay, so i shortened and made it tiny for obvious reasons, that bein its too long 😭 so! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS A FEEELIN?? a feelin that this is SCREAMING denial?! Its giving...

Chloe: Ellaaaa.... this girl im talkn to is SOOO HHHOOOOTT and PRETTY and cool and stuff but ugh.... SHE EEEVILLL!!

Ella: oh my gosh.. STFU. Shes prolly not even that evil ill prove it smh..

*get ur hands dirty starts playing. No exaggeration. No cap.*

"Okay, but there's some universal truths you must recognize." "Like?"

"Valiant knights, pure and good, guaranteed" "That depends on what they're fighting for"

"Creepy witches selling potions for evil deeds" "She could have kids she's providing for"

"If your good-good things will come to you"

MORE denial, Chloe wants to be friends with Red SO bad she looks stupid, but she brings herself back by trying to prove to herself that she's evil and they SHOULDN'T be that close. Which also is a big sign of comphet and heteronormativity, i would know 🧍 (which is a post for another day i might make. Prolly 2 prove that Chloe is a lesbian in deep comphet)

"But just how far do you go? How much do you compromise? Oh, tell me, how do you know. Where do you draw the line?"

"There's nothing I wouldn't do. If my heart tells me it's right. If it's for someone I love. If it's to save a life."

"To save your life."

Further deepening the trope i mentioned. The first line could be interpreted as a double meaning since the song is kind of mostly about Chloe coming to terms with the fact Red isn't really evil or as bad as she thought, plus the argument of where the line between evil and good is. It could refer to Red or Ella, maybe both, but Ella changes the meaning with her own experiences so it drifts off the focus from Red because we cant have ANYTHING 🤧 but i still believe Chloe intended it to be for Red since the entire song is really just for the progress of their relationship n stuff.

Now this could definitely all be in my head, yes, Disney would most likely NEVER canonize or even imply heavily a queer relationship or anything lgbtq on a pre established franchise (cowards.). But there is always a chance.... deep inside the dark heart of the mouse..

Plus, with the subtle hints here and there of Red and Chloe's relationship growing, romantically or not, they are still super close and love eachother alot. Chloe is js (kinda) canonically a girl kisser who cant help but find a girl kissable (same)

And don't get me started on this movie and its obsession with love and proving how it is not "ain't it". Hello...? They set the tone of love, but i see NO person close enough to Red established for this message (other than Chloe) and if they introduce some random guy in the next movies, NO ONE would care nor would they want it unless somehow its 100x better than redcharming, but thats impossible cz wlw 4 life.

So, this entire thingy is me basically finding scraps and wanting to provr that charminghearts IS canon and WILL be established soon! (Im delulu)

#currently watching kylie's elastic music video and i am... hypnotized to sau the least. omg. unmmm.... HHHH 😍😍#glassheart #glassrose #redcharming #charminghearts #red x chloe #chloe x red #descendants #descendants disney #descendants fandom #descendants cinderella #descendants chloe #descendants ror #descendants rise of red #descendants red #d:ror #rise of red #the rise of red

93 notes · View notes

fleet-of-fiction · 10 months ago

Text

Jake Kiszka // Female Reader

Summary: Jake's time off is driving you crazy. You still have to work from home and he's demanding your attention. During an important phone call, he decides to take matters into his own hands. And mouth.

A/N: Enjoy this smutty little blurb I've been rolling around in my mouth for a few weeks. It's slightly self indulgent. But certainly a little something I felt needed to be shared.

Warnings: Oral sex f. Fingering. Edging. Dirty talk. Deprivation.

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

@caprisunsister @thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon y @char289 @dancingcarbon @gvfpal @violetstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader

264 notes · View notes

jezabelle9299 · 20 days ago

Text

I don't know S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture-Spencer knows you're hungry, but you won't just tell him what you want.

CWs- Feeling like an inconvenience

A/N-Based on a true story (Me). Also very short, but I'm attempting to catch up because we are well into November at this point.

Spencer had learned a lot of things about you over the course of your short relationship. He knew how you liked your coffee, your favorite movies, every line from every book you’d ever recommended to him– but all of that pales in comparison to the hardest thing for him to figure out from you. Nearly every time he asked you something and you said ‘I don’t know’, the answer was yes– but you didn’t want to feel like an inconvenience.

Whether it was something as simple as him getting you something from the kitchen, or even when he took you to the amusement park and he asked if you wanted to go on your favorite ride— the one that always had a particularly long line. You’d shrink down, and mumble a quick noncommittal response.

And now you’d been laying on his couch for almost four hours watching an exceedingly long foreign film— without complaint, something he is endlessly grateful for— and your stomach quite literally just growled. Meaning you’d been hungry for a while, and continuously stayed silent. And to top it all off when the noise finally stopped you looked down at your own stomach as if it betrayed you.

“Are you hungry?” He said gently, looking down at you where your face laid against his side.

“I don’t know.” And you pushed your head further into the blanket laying over the top of you, trying to physically shrink yourself down.

“It’s ok if you are, you know that right?”

“I know.” But you still didn’t answer his question.

“So are you hungry?”

“Umm…” Executive decisions had to be made on Spencer’s part.

“Alright, I'm ordering food for you. Do you have any preferences?”

“You don’t have to do that–”

“But I’d like it if you didn’t starve on my couch, because I have gotten attached to you. So– preferences?” It was said in a way that was only genuine, but you still couldn’t get your brain over the hurdle of being a perceived inconvenience.

“I don’t know–”

“Is Italian ok?”

“Don’t you want anything?” He didn’t usually want Italian, and it was always the first thing he suggested if he wasn’t hungry— purely for your benefit.

“Sure I’ll get something, but what do you want?”

“Well–umm” You couldn't figure out what the problem was now. You knew he wouldn't think you were an inconvenience no matter what you got, but you couldn't quite get your brain going again.

“Would you like me to just get you what you got last time?”

“Please?”

“Of course.” He gave you a small kiss on the forehead, and turned the movie back on.

#spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you

110 notes · View notes

austinsastrology8991 · 1 year ago

Text

> 2nd House Lord in the Houses <

2nd house is about values/Investments - its what you value, and how others see the potential growth in you. also where you stubborn/stuckup its also about your voice - (throat) or its 3rd > Idk still trynna figure that out - but just run with it on this post okay (but its probs both considering 2 houses away from 2 is 3....) I view 2nd house themes like business investments; where your the main shareholder of whatever you invested your time and energy into

2nd house lord in the 1st - you invest in yourself - you are very preoccupied by how much value that you bring to the table. your very self aware of what you are good at, and what you are not so good at. this is > 12 < houses away from the 2nd so what you invest into is something that will require much self actualisation, you will undergo a process of filtering what is and isn't of value many times over in this lifetime, because you are someone who only wants quality within yourself, and that of your surroundings. You also may have a voice that is very recognisable, and you can change the tone in your voice a lot, maybe a lil ethereal (12) but its very noticeable (1) “Hey, hey, motherfuckers!” - roman roy 2nd house lord in the 2nd - You invest in worthwhile investments - You are very conscious of how you invest your energy, and so you typically invest into high value things or what is 'worth'while, nothing grinds your gears more than wasting your time. this is > 1 < houses away from the 2nd so people can tell very quickly, your time is valuable, and you yourself are high value; your like the fortune 3 pick axe (yes I said that).... because of this they aware that they cannot waste your time, otherwise you'll just leave lol. You likely have a very sensual voice (2) which is highly noticeable (1) "two little mice fell into a bucket of cream..." type beat 2nd House lord in the 3rd - You invest into education - You believe knowledge is one of the most valuable things you can acquire, and because of this your knowledge is ever-growing, and one of your greatest assets. This is > 2 < houses away meaning you do not waste your time; 'time is money' and since you want to invest in only the most valuable sources of information, it pays off; the type to read only the most noteworthy books (catcher in the rye and the crucible; wassup), and watch the most talked about movies (wassup whiplash and nightcrawler). You value your time, and you value your education above everything else so you take it all very seriously. Your voice can be a bit more high pitched (3) but its also very sensual (2) and maybe you'll learn to value it more as you grow; 2nd house theme is about growth; 'started from the bottom now we here' 2nd house lord in the 4th - You make emotionally sound investments These natives are a natural at putting there money where their mouth is. because if they make the wrong investments it completely dishevels them emotionally. They also are growing into their comfort zones and this makes others feel very comfortable to be around them. This is > 3 < houses away meaning they are investing into education/research and because their intelligence is naturally in a state of growth, they feel very stupid if they make a bad decision, they get kinda emotional. This would also indicate they value their family a lot, and it should get better as time goes on. Their voice is likely a higher pitch (3) and a little soft (4) but its actually a great thing imo because the moon is exalted in taurus so I imagine some overlap here. "like a competent kind of clever filing cabinet that everyone seems content to have around." 2nd house lord in the 5th - you invest into your kingdom You value yourself a lot; you want to shine in how valuable you are and if you fail to do so you can get a bit of an ego tantrum. This is > 4 < houses away so you can get emotional about not living up to the value that your ego has set for yourself. Because of how much you put value into your >ego</emotions you are highly recognizable as someone who is constantly evolving and striving for better outcomes for yourself (5) and your a natural at this by now (4) Your also the type to only invest in the same thing over n over because you find comfort in it, and it feeds your ego > its like getting special discounts from your favourite store makes you feel a lil more special (me too fam i getchu) Your voice is loud (5) but also soft and comforting (4). "young moneay"

2nd house lord in the 6th - you invest in yo daily life for the best outcomes You value what you do a lot. you don't like to waste your time so you always spend it efficiently. This is > 5 < houses away so everyone recognises you as someone who don't fuck around with what you do with your life. You pride yourself on your achievements and this attitude is so healthy > many people admire your hard work, (6) and your dominant attitude (5) to get shit dun; people readily respect it. This is one of the better placements considering its trikona or whatever the fuck its called; but everyone respects a hard worker and we appreciate the effort <3 Your voice can be a bit raspy, you may not like to speak up (6) but others love it/ and its bald(5) He's offered seven million dollars for your life. Seven million dollars is a lot of money, Mr. Wick.

2nd house lord in the 7th - you invest in sum people (choosy) You value your close partners/bestfriends and because of how much you appreciate them, you are very decisive on who you let in; in your life. It is > 6 < houses away so you may view everyone as a bit of a work in progress, but some people you consider are worth the effort. so you don't mind pulling out yo credit card and tappin for the bill on the people who are your favourites. You also value hard work a lot, and you may look for 'high value' people who are worth dealing with. Your voice is likely very balanced/stable (wtf does that mean fuck me idk but libra shit okay) (7) and a bit raspy but people like it (6). "I call you gata, 'cause you's a wild cat" 2nd house lord in the 8th - you invest like a gambler You value what you get from something.... Consider the concept of gambling; high risk; high reward and ya'll love that shit. and well consider it being > 7 < houses away there is nothing more high risk than placing value onto someone else, because people are probably the most disappointing thingz we all have to deal with. But ya'll are exceptional at power (8) and because of this power you have developed/ constantly growing, its really only useful against others (7) when it comes down to it. Your voice is likely deep (8) and well balanced and stuff (7) "So I tell him there's one of me, he makin' fun of me (ha-ha) His girl is a bum to me (grrah)" - what a fkn banger cuh but have you heard the cartman remix? its better (youtooz advert)

2nd house lord in the 9th - you invest into pyramid schemes You invest wisely / extremely strategically with lots of well renowned philosophies to back you up; makes it easier to feel better about spending yo money, when it is likely gonna pay off.. this is > 8 < houses away so you have been developing your power/allure and its paying off in your mindset/ belief in yoself and I mean you too like a bit of gamblin in life; it pays well don't it? Business savy and everyone knows the real money is always hiding (8) and you are well aware of this fact (9). Your voice is likely naturally loud (9) and seductive/deep (8) "you take the blue pill.... but if you take the red pill tho...." 2nd house lord in the 10th - you invest in business and business is business and business is good You are a manifestor investor... wait thats not a word... did ya'll know thats not a word? anyway; your well known to place your money into the enrichment of your ultimate destiny, and well it likely has or will pay off for you, because no one stfu about how you spend your time/energy/money. this is > 9 < houses away, so you have a carefully constructed philosophy on how you are going to thrive in the business landscape. Your reputation should grow much and well, but in terms of what you place your value in; it would have taken much effort to finally grasp what really is worthy of your time (10 about mastery) but since 9 blessin yo ass you should be fine. This is probably one of the best ones to have in terms of growth - but I didn't say that. Your voice is likely deep/authoritative (10) and louddd (9) "Everyday I'm hustlin' hustlin' Hustle, hustlin' hustlin'" 2nd house lord in the 11th - you invest in yo people fo da people You are kinda a genius at investments because you've spread out your investments in many different avenues/affiliates/communites and well one has to fkn pay off at this point (and it likely will pay it big for you, because 11 is massive gains). This is > 10 < houses away so your like known for ur investments and well maybe you gettin a lot of eyes on you as people are wondering if they can invest in you, or if you'd invest into them... your voice is likely something of a wat da fuck; (11) and authoritative (10) "you can pay me and I'll play a song or dance for you; what would you like?" - every other quote is real i made this up because i have a scene from Futurama in my head but i cbf finding it > respect the honesty okay 2nd house lord in 12th - you invest in strange things and most of them are your stupid friends you don't have the soundest judgement for business, but you know what it somehow does pay off, because the 12th house is confusing af, and people are confused at how tf you made a profit outta that investment you made. But It is > 11 < houses away and well you do love to invest in your mates, and it actually could grow into lots of fortune (11th house is massive gains) however it is primarly 12th house energy and your investments are mostly surrounded by cloudy judgement that can and should pay off later and massively (11). Your voice is ethereal and hard to pin point because of its changeable nature (12) and also a bit wat da fuq (11) "I was born rich life ain't fair"

Sidenote - when I speak about the tone in your voice please check the planets in the 2nd. but also the degrees of the cusp, and the house lord planet/degrees. > I don't wanna hear a bunch of squeakers tellin me they don't sound like that CHECK YO WHOLE CHART <

before anyone asks about the gifs - itz call of duty zombiez > my childhood ;p > goood timez < 1st gif is called 'random weapon' or 'mystery box'; it is easily the most worthy investment to make in the game (950 points), and you never know how profitable it is hence the name 2nd gif is called 'pack a punch' and to go the furthest in the game it is necessary to invest 5000 points into your weapon to make it the most powerful it can be if anyone played - my highest round is like 80 or someshit and that was on Revalations. and on Mob of the Dead I got 70 i'm pretty sure but idr its been so long..... basically all you need to know I was a god at that game... and Ik most of ya'll don't care/play but dont make fun of my gifs or imma eat your face off like a zombie

#astrology blog #2nd house lord #astro community #astrology #house placements #astrology placements #astrology observations #astrology notes #astrology houses

565 notes · View notes

itsonlydana · 9 months ago

Text

"passenger princess" | chapter six

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 4,9k

❱ summary: a horror movie, 'your dad jokes' and overcoming the fear of being vulnerable by opening up

❱ warnings: mature language

❱ an: we're back on schedule! Anyone got the reference with the documentary?🤭

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER SIX: MOVIE

It was movie night and once again you found yourself sitting on the giant sofa, a glass of wine cradled between your hands as you watched Legolas and Aragorn argue over what to watch.

It was amusing, really, to simply sit back and observe how both completely missed the fact they could be on the same page if they weren't blinded by the urge to please the other.

While Legolas was trying his hardest to convince Aragorn you didn't have to watch another romcom and he would much rather try to understand that one French art film Aragorn studied in his poetry class, the brunette was keen on rewatching Mean Girls for Legolas.

They seemed to have forgotten you were there to be included in the discussion.

Feet burrowed into the cushions under you you sipped on the wine that Thranduil brought out to the pool two days ago.

Every sip brought the scent of sunscreen and the warm rays of sunshine back to you on this rainy evening.

Your gaze trailed to the floor-to-ceiling windows next to the sofa, right outside to where the pool was illuminated by lanterns and laid undisturbed except for the raindrops splattering onto the surface.

Thinking back to that day, you felt a heat creeping into your cheeks that not only came from the wine.

You had no idea what had been the push into the decision but when Thranduil had joined you in the pool, he had joined you. Not just sitting at the edge or watching you from the shadow of the terrace.

He'd come outside and immediately shed himself from his shirt and trousers, leaving you to a close death with every layer of fabric removed and every bit of light skin revealed.

You nearly had a heart attack at the sight of his upper body and the lean muscles you had known were there, but never had the pleasure –and oh, it truly was a fucking pleasure– to see in all their glory.

Thranduils shoulders were broad, yet fit his form and the adonis belt that accentuated his –must be said– slender waist.

The sentiment that no man his age should be allowed to be this good-looking extended to include all men or women no matter the age. It made little sense to you that this man looked like that at his age when you knew full well that he didn't exercise.

He had a body to fantasize about, and you gladly did.

"What do you say?" Aragorn called to you from the other end of the couch, where he was rubbing his temple, "Tell Legolas I really don't mind watching whatever he chooses."

"Oh, you remembered I'm still here?" you asked while Legolas gasped and clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Yes, but you shouldn't not mind, you should enjoy the movie as well!"

"Legolas, I mean it. It's alright if we watch Mean Girls!"

"Woah, pause!" you took another sip and swiped the air with the other hand. "You two have been so insufferable ever since you did it. Can we go back to pining but without all the.. you know, back bending for just a movie?"

It shut them up, maybe they thought you hadn't noticed them sneaking off together or whatever the reason was, you were glad for the momentary silence.

"Let's just do the 'surprise me' thingy and no one will be truly happy, alright?"

No idea when you'd become the voice of reason but both nodded in agreement, sparing shy smiles to each other that said more apologies than Legolas had ever given to you in words, for the evenings you had to watch his choice of movie.

Love could really change a person.

"Fine," Legolas threw his long legs into movement, walked to the cabinets next to the flatscreen, and grabbed the remote. "Next time we–"

"We'll have the same discussion over and over again," Aragorn added.

"You're disgusting," you pretended to gag, heaving your chest for dramatic effect, "Finishing each other's sentences is so cringe."

"Using cringe in a sentence is cringe."

"Shut up and dim the lights, Las. Please down to the level that's in your head, alright?" You smiled angelicly, cheeks hurting from the effort though it was all worth it at Legolas scowl when he tried to fish for a response but ended up silently muttering under his breath and turning the lights off.

Engulfed in near darkness you only saw his lanky figure reach for something on the incliner next to the sofa before a cushion flew toward you with a scarily accuracy.

Wouldn't you have leaned to the side because you wanted to place the glass onto the coffee table, there would've been an accident for sure.

"Legolas you fucking idiot," you swore, already grabbing the cushion that hit your back. "Do you want another wine-stain incident?"

The wine-stain-incident of last year went down in history as the biggest argument this house had ever seen.

Legolas and Thranduil had been arguing like never before, snapping at each other back and forth for days over red wine spilled over the newly bought designer sofa cushions.

It went so far that Legolas camped at your dorm for a whole weekend, clearing out your fridge and complaining that his Ada was up his ass for an accident he didn't even remember.

After three days of coming home from work and seeing Legolas sulk on your bed, the thing that pushed your patience over the edge had been one night when the blonde couldn't sleep and decided that your bed was big enough for him to cuddle you; big surprise: it wasn't.

Nothing was big enough in the tin can of a dorm.

"So what?" Legolas fell onto the sofa next to Aragorn, giving you plenty of space to spread out on your half, "I'm just gonna tell him it was you again. Nothing's gonna happen then."

"You're a wicked man, Las," Aragorn said. Legolas grinned.

You snorted. "Sure, if you want your ass handed to you. Don't think it's going to work twice."

"Oh no, it will." Legolas raised an eyebrow much similar to his father, "Just like last time his anger will go up in the smoke the second he sees you and then–" he cooed in a very over-the-top imitation of Thranduil, "–no no no, it's alright! I hated the sofa anyways.. what? It's new? Doesn't matter, I'll buy a new one, babe."

"He doesn't sound like that and it wasn't like that!" you complained.

It had been exactly like that.

"It kinda was," Aragorn chimed in and received a smile (Legolas) and an angry huff (you).

Legolas tapped away on the remote, lightning up the living room as the flatscreen showed the last thing that had been watched.

Some nature documentary that, in the small second Legolas gave you before opening up the streaming app, seemed to be about whales and crocodiles.

Thranduils taste in movies was everything Legolas didn't enjoy: docus with long biology conversations, silent black and white classics or, his guilty pleasure, fake jury shows where he would point out where they went wrong or how inaccurate the case was.

You adored how he would sit on the sofa wearing his slim glasses and pretend he wasn't interested in the drama at all.

"Alright," Legolas said and pressed a button for the random movie.

"By the way," you said hushed, "He doesn't call me babe. Your father calls me sweetheart or darling, which is completely different and so much more endearing in my opinion."

Aragorn let out a loud breath and leaned over to rub Legolas' shoulder. "Wow, that was basically a 'your mom' joke, although much more eloquent. Hope you're alright."

"He will survive," you waved off, "It's not like I told him how he–"

"No, I actually don't want to hear that!" Legolas interrupted you loudly and turned up the sound of the TV, shutting down every remark that could've followed by the loud boom that cracked through the surround system like thunder.

You didn't need to read the title of the movie, that the first scene was a first-person shot of someone running through the woods at night and the only sound was their breathing and the snapping of twigs was telling you exactly what you were in for.

"Sorry," Legolas said before you even opened your mouth, grinning over at you in the moonshine light of the movie, "No take backsies for any insults just because you don't wanna watch horror!"

"But–"

"No no, no buts."

"You're so mean," Aragorn said to Legolas, but nevertheless grabbed one of the blankets beside him and threw it toward you, "Here, to protect you from any murderers."

You stuck out your tongue at him and yanked the blanket over.

Horror, was by far, the worst outcome of the random selection.

Everything else would've been fine, hell, even a compilation of every time you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Thranduil could be an easier watch than an hour.. oh well two hours of jumpscares.

"You'll be fine," Legolas was already munching on the popcorn he'd prepared earlier, throwing the golden snack into his open mouth and –naturally– not missing a single piece.

It was infuriating how talented he was in some aspects.

"Just don't look to your left and imagine the killer's waiting for you behind the trees."

"I hate you so much."

As expected, the blanket provided little comfort as the movie progressed and whenever you glanced over to Aragorn and Legolas, you could see them whispering together, quietly laughing over the dumb decisions the main character made.

So unfair they had fun while you suffered.

The scenes got even worse the longer you watched, tension sharpening like the knives you saw on screen, flashing in and out as the killer sneaked through the woods. The wind outside as well as inside screamed like a boiling kettle, rattling as the storm picked up and hammered the wind against the window.

There were creaks and echoes everywhere.

Every hair on your body stood up, an electrifying rush of adrenalin cursing through your body and having you cling to the blanket in an attempt to shield yourself.

It came out of nowhere.

The sound of a door opening and immediately shutting close with a bang loud enough that you let out a scream like your life depended on it.

It led to Legolas joining in, yelling in surprise and as he turned around to stare into the dark kitchen, the popcorn flew everywhere.

There, looming in the doorframe was a tall figure, dripping water and looking extremely haunted by the white flashes of the screen illuminating long wet hair and hauntingly sharp cheekbones.

"Oh my fucking god.. fuck! Fuck this shit," you gasped for air, inhaling one breath after the other until you were nearly dizzy.

"Ada, you scared the shit out of us!" Legolas quickly let go of Aragorn, whom he'd jumped the second he'd heard your scream pierce the quiet room.

"My apologies," Thranduils deep rumble sounded.. off. Strained, like the lopsided smile on his lips. "That was not my intention." He looked around, pausing at you and for a second the look on his face seemed haunted. "Please, continue. I'll be upstairs and make sure not to bother you anymore."

"Thran–" you started and rose to bend over the back of the sofa.

He stopped in his movement, haltering to nod at you, "Hi, sweetheart, excuse me for scaring you like that. You look lovely, though." And then he was already stalking back to the hallway, his wet hair clinging to his equally drenched coat.

You turned to Legolas and Aragorn, your expression communicating the confusion you felt clearly by the look of their equally unsure faces.

"Ada?" Legolas called, not looking away from you, his eyebrows drawn together.

"Yes?"

"I may have spilled wine onto the new white carpet. It was some hours ago but maybe we can fix it?" Questioningly you inclined your head, close to asking him what the fuck he was talking about, when Thranduil answered:

"Oh, no worries," –your eyes widened– "It's fine. Let's talk later."

"Well," Legolas stated as soon as you heard Thranduil walk up the stairs. "Either someone kidnapped Ada and that's someone else, or he's calculating how to murder you two for practically living here at this point."

Aragorn, sensing that this wasn't the time to continue, paused the movie. Even he was frowning.

You fell back onto your bottom, eyes flickering back to the doorway in uncertainty. "So I didn't just hallucinate that? You noticed how weird he was?"

"So weird. Maybe something happened?" Aragorn mused and started picking up the popcorn Legolas had strewn all over the place.

"Maybe he finally realized I live here rent-free as well."

You and Aragorn looked at each other. You spoke up first: "Las, the way you inhale his snacks and wine he's just ignorant of the fact. Do you have any idea what's up with him?"

Legolas shrugged, throwing one of the popcorn pieces into his mouth again. "Not the slightest. Haven't seen him like that since.. oh–", he paused, grimacing like he tasted something sour.

"What?" Next to him, Aragorn took away another lint-covered popcorn before he could eat that as well.

Suddenly, Legolas seemed sheepish, his gaze scattering everywhere except you which you immediately noticed.

"Legolas, since when?"

"'S probably doesn't matter," he mumbled, his face turning a traitorous reddish shade that reached the top of his pointy ears.

"You're lying," you detected, not trying to hide the sharp edge in your voice. This was quickly escalating, moving far beyond a simple discussion over what movie to watch. "What's going on? He's never like that… at all. He looked like he'd run over someone!"

"Love," Aragorn tried softly, but you were already too busy staring at Legolas to notice.

"You really want to know?" Legolas asked, the blanket he and Aragorn were under clutched into his fists. "I'll tell you but don't, and I mean it, don't zero in on that. This could be different, like completely." After your nod and a look over his shoulder to check that Thranduil wasn't creeping through the hallway with an axe, he continued:

"Y'know my mother left him, right?"

As soon as he mentioned her, you grew wearily. "Yes–"

"So she left when I was still a baby, like no worries he's fine with it and I'm fine with it and we were alright. He kinda knew it would happen, she was around but never there. He was the one giving up half of his firm so that he could work less and mostly from home. She just.. didn't change at all and when she was gone, Ada wasn't surprised."

You knew the story, it was one of those things Legolas had shared with you under the confined comfort of the blanket of the night and his bed.

"Uhm.. yeah, I don't know how to tell you this but she came back once."

The world swayed, ripping open right in front of you and you felt yourself tumbling, one foot over the edge of that darkness this statement had dunked your head into.

"Oh," you said, immediately trying to shut down the feelings of unease and insecurity gnawing at your mind. "I mean, she's your mom?"

Legolas huffed, "Barely. Biologically yes, but even then one could argue I'm Ada's clone." He grew serious again, his long fingers tapping the arm he'd thrown over his middle, "T'was like what.. nine years.. ten years ago? I was in the kitchen doing my homework when the keys turned and some woman suddenly stood in front of me that I didn't recognize but knew who she was. I kinda screamed. Ada came and when he saw her, he looked just like he looked then."

You blinked, your breathing coming in a bit faster than what you would define as 'totally fine'.

"What happened then?" Aragorn asked for you. Thankfully, because you weren't sure what to say.

"He threw her out and called someone to change the locks," Legolas said and lifted his head to stare at you, "Ada told her to go to hell or he'll sue the living shit out of her for child abandonment and whatever dirt he would find. Yes, he had the same look on his face, yes he was so fucking weird and kind of apathetic but, and listen to me; this could be a whole other thing."

"Wha– what.." you started, stumbling even over that one word, "what if it's not? Maybe he changed his opinion over time."

"Sure," he rolled his eyes but dropped the sarcasm when it did not comfort you at all, "No seriously, believe me, he doesn't want her in his, my, or our life. Not then, not now, not when you two finally figured yourselves out."

While that helped just as much as throwing a single glass of water onto a giant campfire, you nodded and put on a mask of uninterest.

Simply because it was much easier than getting into a whole discussion over feelings that may or may not be out of place.

He could've simply had a bad day at work.

"Let's just continue?" you asked, nearly begged, and were glad when Legolas and Aragorn didn't say another word but started the movie again to fill the awkward silence.

Under the blankets, you were wired.

You'd known you should've let it rest, to leave Legolas alone and maybe if that story had stayed untold, the straw just waiting to be dropped, hadn't dropped to throw your mind into a frenzy that was based on a "what if" situation you had on your hands because of a single, small interaction.

Well, it stood out and didn't fit Thranduil at all, but should you really care that much?

As Legolas said, you and he hadn't even figured out what was going on, just that there was something you both wanted to pursue.

The movie didn't fade you the slightest after the conversation, the next minutes flew past you like they didn't happen at all and when you heard Thranduil come down the stairs and walk into the kitchen, you flew from the couch.

"Be right back," you muttered as you ducked past Legolas and Aragorn; the latter brushing his hand over yours to give it a gentle squeeze.

The momentum that led to you standing up in the first place left you at the sight of Thranduil's turned back, hunched over a plate of chocolate cake Legolas had bought while shopping for snacks.

He looked so weary and tired, deep worry lines indicating his age, still attractive and even more now that he had his hair up in a bun and wore sweatpants you'd never seen him in, but yes, exhaustion was written all over his face when he turned around.

"Hi," you shuffled around, making a lame hand movement that was neither a wave nor anything else, "Should I go? No forget that, of course I'll leave you alone. Never asked, alright? Bye—"

"Stay?"

The question was soft and almost overshadowed by the squeaks of fear coming from the TV.

"I…," you started, stammering but when Thranduil held out the plate and the cake he was still shoveling into his mouth in big bites, you agreed. "Of course."

You jumped onto the counter next to him, ignoring how the sight of sweatpants, gray slightly baggy but not baggy enough sweatpants!, up close messed up every single thought swarming around your head like busy bees.

He leaned back against the counter beside you, ankles crossed and his head thunked against one of the hanging cabinets on the wall.

For a while, all you did was let Thranduil feed you bites of the cake, taking every fork he held up to your mouth carefully and swallowing the questions you wanted to ask with it.

He ate as well, lifting one bite after the other to his lips in between feeding you and every time your eyes hung onto his plush mouth.

Not because his rosy lips looked especially enticing with chocolate cream smeared into their corners, but because of the indications of his teeth in them, in the raw bitten look of them that told you there was definitely something going on.

"Hey," you nudged your leg against his side, "do you want to talk about it?"

The sigh that left his throat sounded more like the groan of a pained animal, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed another bite before placing the plate on the kitchen island.

"You don't have to," you followed up in a rush, not wanting to corner him or force him.

"I should." Thranduil kicked one foot against the counter and turned his head so he looked at you.

Sitting up there, you were close enough to reach over and, in a moment of spontaneity, wipe away the chocolate on his lips.

He caught your hand, pressing a quick kiss onto your palm and keeping it in his when he dropped them.

"Yes, I should absolutely tell you," he swallowed again, "you have a right to now as someone.. as someone important in my life." The way he talked and furrowed his eyebrows showed how much energy and willpower it took him to admit that.

It meant a lot that he tried and cared about the conversation about opening up and being there, being in.

"I got a call at work today that I didn't expect and I'm still unsure what to make of it." Thranduil's hand tightened ever so slightly. His teeth once again found their place in his lower lip, dragging it back and releasing it.

"A lawyer informed me Legolas' mother wants to talk to me."

The air left your body instantly, the sentence punching you into the gut with an iron fist that had 'shouldn't have asked' imprinted on it and marking you all over.

Thranduil noticed, of course, he did, and lifted your intertwined hands for another kiss onto your knuckles.

"I told them not to bother me again," he clarified fast, "Told them ten years ago, told them now."

"Legolas told me that happened," you admitted quietly and let your head fall on top of his shoulders.

"I hope he told you that I had never any interest in keeping contact or searching that woman. I respected her choice to step away from our lives; she expressed a reluctance to embrace motherhood, and I had no authority to impose that role on her if it brought genuine discontent."

"Yes, he said that as well to comfort me."

"And I presume it did not?" Thranduil spoke forward into the otherwise empty kitchen and you followed his words with your eyes, searching the tiled floor for the courage to jump over that damn river of worries that hindered you from opening up.

He did it as well, you thought, he said you had a right to know, that you were someone important in his life.

"No," you finally acquiesced, feet firmly planted onto the metaphorical ground.

"Not the slightest. There is this woman I don't know, the mother of my best friend and the ex-partner of this man I really like and she's a total mystery and suddenly I hear she tried contacting you a few years back and now again and my mind can't help but project that she would be a much better fit to you than me."

There was a pause as the words sunk in.

Then Thranduil turned, opening up your legs with his large hands and stepping in between them.

The dimmed kitchen lights made this intimate, tension there was none for the look in his eyes spoke more of worry and his hands placing themselves under your thighs to pull you closer with effortless strength acted more out of the need to hold you than anything sexual.

"Darling," Thranduil's face filled your entire vision, the impact of the worry etched into the darker circles under his eyes hitting you square into the heart. "I can follow that train of worry and this is not me dismissing it but rather me questioning myself and my actions. Have I given you a reason to believe you're not the only one I want to spend my time with? You alone roam through my house and my head and dreams as if you own them, no one else."

You shook your head and rested your free hand on his chest, splaying your entire palm on the crimson sweater he wore, "Never. But she's probably your age and I'm... well I'm not."

"That is true. She is my age and you are not. She's also– what did Legolas say ten years ago?" He thought back, "Ah yes," he tipped his head closer, leaning his forehead against yours, "No one important. No one worth a second thought. No one, and now those are my words, that would come between you and me."

Your hands wandered, trailing up his collarbone standing out, and up his cold throat.

The hairs you brushed on his neck were still slightly wet, curling at the bottom as they slowly dried. "Then why were you this worried?"

He paused, mirroring you and cupping your face in his warmed hands, "This plagued me for different reasons. A part of me feared you would get scared and I might lose you, and the other was circling the dumb idea that Legolas could be angry that I blocked her off."

"So it was stupid of me to be jealous," you exhaled a deep breath, feeling the heavy weight being lifted of your heart as Thranduil's thumb followed the curve of your jaw and chin.

"Feelings are never stupid, they are valid in every form as long as you don't single them out or ignore your mind. And for you, that's really important because you have a really clever mind." He tapped your temple with his pointer.

A laugh escaped you, easing up the tension. "We're getting good at this," you said and nuzzled your head into his palm, "y'know, talking."

"I do feel very wise right now," Thranduils voice was airy and light, falling into that usual banter you guys were so much better at.

"Mhm, must be the age."

Where his voice had been light, his chuckle was deep and throaty, the tone rasping over every word he spoke: "My age allows for exceptional knowledge in many areas."

If you had been a maid in earlier times, that statement would've caused you to faint and even now it brought a heavy blush to your face at the directness in it.

Because you neither knew what to answer nor to do, you lightheartedly shoved him away, and while you regretted not going in for a kiss, the euphoric feeling that spread through you as he chased behind you through the kitchen made up for it.

"Come on, Grandpa," you giggled, swatting away his arm as he reached for your middle, "Use your knowledge to protect this fair maiden from the movie we're watching."

Legolas's head turned just as you entered the living room, the skeptic look on his face morphing into an understanding smile when Thranduil followed close behind you.

"Fair maiden?" he snorted, "Please, as if."

"Shut up Las," you hit his head as you passed him, nearly hitting Aragorns chest as well and wow, when did they decide that showing their affection in front of Thranduil wouldn't lead to instant death?

You settled into the cushions again, pulling Thranduil next to you.

There was a passing look between Thranduil and Legolas, where Legolas raised an eyebrow daring his father to say anything, and then between Thranduil and Aragorn, where they both nodded at each other before turning away; Thranduil to you, Aragorn to Legolas.

It was so weird, your lips curled.

Then you realized the movie was paused, the screen showing the beginning rather than the middle where you'd left.

"Noo," you whined as realization hit you, "You didn't continue!"

"Why would we? It's so much funnier if you're crying and screaming," Legolas teased and you fired a look of pure hatred at him that he reflected with an angelic smile.

Next to you, Thranduil had made himself comfortable, long legs stretched out and one arm lifted onto the cushions, giving you an encouraging nod to come closer.

You followed the invitation, huddling closer until you were nearly glued to his side and, after drawing the blanket over the both of you, his arm found its place on your hip, fingertips lifting your shirt just enough for him to feel the warmth of your stomach under his spread palm.

"Don't worry," he whispered and his nose nudged the crown of your head, "I scream much louder watching these movies. Now, Legolas, know that after this movie you're in for spilling wine again and ruining the carpet!"

"Wasn't me." Legolas tipped his chin to the wine glass next to where you'd sat when Thranduil had come home instead of telling him that there was in fact no stain or no ruined carpet.

"Oh," Thranduil's hand started circling your stomach, causing the army of butterflies in there to fly high, "then don't worry, sweetheart. I hated it anyway, ugly color, so much white. I'll buy a new one in red if you like that color that much."

taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds, @mssuguru, @solartoge, @12134z03, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @lady-of-imladris , @finallyforgotten , @123forgottherest @tomhockstetter7-111 @marshymallo @emily-roberts @howlerwolfmax

#📁files: passenger princess #thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #king thranduil #thranduil #thranduil oropherion

158 notes · View notes

cityofmeliora · 3 months ago

Note

What do you think about Copia’s childhood? I saw your post about Terzo’s, so I started wondering. Where do you think he was raised, who do you think he was raised by, how did it contribute to who he is today?

YESSSSSS YES YES YES YES THIS IS THE ASK I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR RAAAAHHHH–

ok so first, i just wanna be clear that this post isn't gonna include anything about Cardi's twin because i'm still waiting to see what happens next in the lore before i try to write anything involving him.

with that out of the way,

like all my Ghost headcanons, my headcanons about Cardi are built on the foundation that the band Ghost lore is about 1) an evil satanic cult, and 2) a dysfunctional showbiz family from Los Angeles.

basically, i think Cardi had a very lonely childhood. and he has psychological issues caused by a lifetime of Sister Imperator's insane parenting. his anxiety in Rite Here Rite Now, about how being Papa is all he wants to do and all he thinks he could do, SCREAMS of "unethical Hollywood parent who molded her child to be a star" to me.

i do think Sister 'raised' him, or was at least present in his life since he was a child ("You'll always be my little Cardi.") and she just... didn't him she was his mom / Nihil was his dad. (i guess it's quite similar to children of catholic clergy IRL, who are sometimes raised by family but never told about their true parentage, or know the truth and are told to hide it.)

Cardi is autistic, obviously, but i also think his awkwardness is him being socially underdeveloped because he comes from an isolated cult environment. he was a weird satanic homeschool kid who almost never interacted with anyone outside the Ministry, and he was basically left to watch movies and listen to music and play video games all day. i like the idea that Cardi had dance training when he was young, though. that was probably the only time he really got to interact with others. and because he grew up in the Los Angeles area, on the occasions he did get to go out, he was always surrounded by the entertainment industry and people trying to rise to stardom.

anyway, i think this was all somewhat intentional, or at least worked in Sister Imperator's favor, to mold him into a neurotic showbiz baby in service of her evil satanic death cult. (though i don't think he cares about the cult aspect of Ghost at all. he's been in it his whole life because he didn't have a choice and has never known anything else. he really just wants to be a rock star.) growing up without the love of friends + family, Cardi filled that void with games / music / film. so... of course he wanted to be an entertainer when he grew up– that was his only avenue for human connection.

and i think Cardi kinda knew Sister Imperator was giving him special treatment and pulling strings to put him in position to become Papa, though he never understood why.

a major point in my Terzo character analysis post is that he was very ambitious and he loved being an entertainer and a showman, but he was frustrated because he wasn't allowed to express his full potential. i wrote that his mindset was "i know i'm good enough. and i could prove it if they would just let me."

and ever since i wrote that, i can't stop thinking about how Cardi feels the exact same way.

he's super talented. he's worked very hard. he's proud of his accomplishments. he's proven he's capable! but Sister Imperator doesn't respect him. she infantilizes him. she keeps the training wheels on. she doesn't want him to be capable!

Sister Imperator does not allow Cardi to have independent thoughts or make real decisions for himself. she allows him the illusion of autonomy when she needs to, but every time he shows a little bit of awareness of how fucked up his life actually is, she shuts him down to keep him under control. she purposefully hides information from him so he won't know anything she doesn't want him to know. she intrudes on his privacy because his bedroom doesn't have a door.

i think their relationship has been like this his whole life.

you can see examples of this manipulation / obfuscation throughout the Chapters, and you can see a lot of it in Rite Here Rite Now.

first off, the opening narration gives the context / background information that sometime in late 2021, when Cardi was 51 years old, he found out his two bosses are actually his parents, and his mother kept this a secret from both him and his father his whole life. which is. wild. to say the least.

(i think when he found out, he was disappointed by the realization that he got to where he is because he was secretly a nepo baby and not because he was doing a good job on his own.)

moving on. in Rite Here Rite Now, Cardi's main source of stress was that he fully believed his parents were going to murder him and then put his body on display to sell VIP tickets for his successor's concerts. this was genuine fear, and he had a legitimate reason to believe they would do that to him because they actually did that to his three older brothers! and in the later Chapters, Sister Imperator and Mr. Psaltarian were totally fucking with his head and making him think he was going to die!

he asks Sister why he can't continue being Papa for longer –because he doesn't want his parents to kill him when they're done with him– and she just brushes him off and tells him to keep playing his show. then in the Miasma scene, Cardi has a critical moment of awareness and asks what the hell is actually going on in his life and who's in control.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: One thing I do not understand… All these things… here, all of this stuff, and all of these things we're doing, where we go, and when, and to where… Who decides these things? I mean, who's calling the shots?

this is totally fair! he has a right to know this information!

in response, his parents completely avoid answering the question. they shut him down and basically tell him he sounds ungrateful for the life he has.

SISTER IMPERATOR: You waste so much time and energy worrying about what's been and what's next, who's next and whatnot. As with all things in life, it circulates. Everything that has a beginning has an ending. There just has to be an orderly transition.

she never tells him the truth. she just tells him to stop worrying. stop thinking.

they never tell him they're not going to kill him. They Never Tell Him They're Not Going To Kill Him. THEY NEVER TELL HIM THEY'RE NOT GOING TO KILL HIM.

Cardi spends the last third of the movie making peace with the idea that he is going to die soon and his parents will be the ones to kill him. after Respite On The Spitalfields, he seems resigned to his fate. he tells the Nameless Ghouls they're not doing an encore. he says "Fuck it." but Sister Imperator, still explaining nothing, tells him to do the encore and he unenthusiastically gets back on stage.

SISTER IMPERATOR: Even though you don't understand right now, sooner or later, you will know what I'm talking about. Things –events– are unavoidable. Now you go back out there and give them one hell of an encore. And that's all you have to worry about. PAPA EMERITUS IV: Okay. SISTER IMPERATOR: Off you go.

by the beginning of Square Hammer, he decides he is actually happy with the life he has and he's okay with whatever's coming. and he still expects he's going to die... only for them to totally fake him out.

Sister Imperator dies instead. in the letter she leaves him, she tells him, "My son, I'm sorry I could not find it in my heart to tell you about my condition. I was afraid you might lose your sometimes frail concentration." more obfuscation. more infantilization.

at the end of the letter, she promotes him to head of the Clergy. he takes on his new job assignment as Frater Imperator and he seems to think he'll have more power now that Sister Imperator is "not in charge anymore." i'm not so sure about that.

and this isn't even getting into all the other weird shit going on between them in that movie! why was Cardi literally unable to see her wheelchair and medicine until the Spoksonat scene? why couldn't he remember his twin brother who he spent time with as a child? either Cardi is even more mentally unwell than we know, or Sister is messing with his head in even more ways than we know. maybe both. probably both.

i do believe Sister Imperator loves Cardi. that does not negate the fact that she is also manipulative and dishonest and has no respect for him, and that made her a terrible parent. she caused him a lifetime of unnecessary confusion and suffering in furtherance of her goals. yes, he is often childish and irresponsible. but i think the way she treated him didn't allow him to mature on his own.

the worst part about all this? i think he's convinced himself that he loves her, too. (he doesn't actually know how to feel about her. it would be too painful to think about.)

in summary, to me, Cardi's life is like The Truman Show, except it's the bad ending where the producer (Sister Imperator) successfully convinces him to stay in the bubble.

this was supposed to be a headcanons post and it totally turned into an analysis post, but i cannot help it. i just love Cardi so fucking much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I JUST WANT CARDI TO BE SAFE AND HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

btw i think his actual legal given name is Cardinal Copia Imperator. yeah. i believe Sister Imperator actually named him that.

#sorry this is so fucking long. i will probably make bits and pieces of this into separate posts #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #frater imperator #sister imperator #cardi #radley post #rite here rite now #the band ghost lore #headcanon #analysis

78 notes · View notes