#and to name a counter example

[calamitaswrath]

I occasionally see posts where people criticize people in fandoms that view any given media through only a lense of shipping, down to flattening characters to just a few traits so that they fit a ship better. And don't get me wrong, those types of fans also irk me! But another type of fan / fan behaviour that I've never really seen anyone criticize is the types of fans who seem to only care about the lore of a series, and treat everything as a sort of puzzle that needs to be solved and that all open questions need to be answered. Which just. . . feels like a really boring way to engage with media. Questions being left open at the end of the story are good, cause they make you think.

Like, if there's a castle off in the distance in a story that only gets alluded to and nothing else, then that's cool. That makes me wonder about it. But I don't need to know about Lord Fucknugglebart the Dentally Challenged who once lived there And Did A Thing, especially when it adds nothing to the story.

[corviiids]

i think L should've tried harder to piss light off. provoking light into slipping up would not only be hilarious i also think it would be extremely easy and effective. not saying you could get light to actually confess this way, but he would definitely make more dumb mistakes if, for example, L kept interrupting their homoerotic brain chess matches to insist that kira is actually matsuda because the butts match

[neversetyoufree]

God it just hit me.

Names are power in VnC. We call the piece of the world formula that defines a vampire their "true name." Learning and altering a vampire's true name gives you near-absolute power over them. Vanitas hides his old name as part of his "Vanitas" persona—a defense mechanism to hide his vulnerable self.

And names are an axis of discrimination too. The main way we've been examining discrimination against the dhampirs is through the lens of vampires refusing to call them by their names. And Luna, the perennial outsider, seems not to have been given a real name. They certainly didn't have a name that they liked or identified with for most of their life.

So with all that context, even more than it might be in another series, Teacher's whole name shtick becomes such an insane power move. He changes his name constantly and will brutally punish anyone that gets it wrong. Nobody has the power that would come from knowing whatever his first/true name was. He has the physical and social power to punish and correct anyone that doesn't call him what he wants to be called. He is in complete control of how people address him, or at least close to complete control, which is such a big deal within this story.

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than dreams

Nerfed signposts!

[vonkarma2]

ultimately my enjoyment is hampered because it is low key sexist bc it takes place in an alternate universe where Sigmund Freud is real. though I did still like it for the most part but I hate Sigmund Freudddd Utena better

[nullcoast]

The world is fucking disgusting

[supercantaloupe]

nah instagram keeps recommending an acct to me whose entire shtick is that our very catholic college is not catholic enough, with such delightful posts as "genuinely comparing being pro choice to racism" and "the secularists are trying to destroy religion on campus by cancelling a guest speaker"

[bloodyarson]

not to derail but i think the reason why american english is so easy to learn and to speak for a lot of people is exactly because correct enunciation doesn't matter one bit really. as long as you make a noise that has the right vowels and kinda similar consonants people will understand what you're saying 90% of the time. and so i think, other than imperialism of course, this is one of the reasons why english is everyone in the world's "common tongue" now. even with a really thick accent english is still understandable, way more than most other majorly spoken languages. i mean, just fucking take a listen to french! or don't actually unless you want your ears to start bleeding.

so yeah in conclusion i think the reason why english is the language everyone learns and communicates in is because of this specific lack of a need to properly pronounce things, making it so much easier than most other languages for non native speakers. :)

americans be like i’m looking at myself in the meer

[sailortongue]

Consolation Prize

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: kenji sato doesn't handle losing well, but if your body is the consolation prize then maybe it's not so bad

wc: 2k

cw: porn with, like, a teaspoon of plot, oral (m receiving), pinv, praise, unprotected sex, breeding kink

------

You watched as the timer on the scoreboard ran out, signifying the end of the game and subsequently the Giants’ loss. It was a rare loss, one that would definitely have Kenji in a sour mood. He prided himself on being the best of the best and didn't handle losing very well, especially not to a rival team.

The ride home was a silent one. You glanced over at him in the passenger seat to see him with his hands clenched into fists and a scowl marring his visage. No matter how much you complimented his performance, he always shot your words down, going on about how he could have been better and citing instances that he felt were examples of poor decision-making. You sighed and refocused your attention on the road, opting to let him stew in his frustration. Sometimes people just need to be upset for a while to feel better.

By the time you arrived home, Kenji seemed to have calmed down, but there was still an annoyed furrow in his brows. You placed your purse on the kitchen counter before turning to him with a gentle smile and pulling him down to your level to place a sweet kiss on his forehead. With his face between your hands, you said, “I’m so proud of you, no matter the outcome of the game.”

He pulled your hands from his face and nuzzled it into your neck, placing a kiss at the juncture of your shoulder. “Keep going,” he whispered, releasing your hands and placing his own on your hips.

You swallowed thickly, trying to regain the focus he had so quickly stolen from you.

“And you’re an amazing player.” He hummed, placing another kiss higher up.

“And you’re an amazing boyfriend.” He smiled against your skin, planting another kiss against your jaw.

“And I’m so lucky to call you mine.”

That was all it took to have him surge forwards, crashing his lips onto yours. You gasped, Kenji’s sudden energy taking you by surprise. The grip he had on your hips tightened as he pulled you closer. He pushed his tongue past your lips, swallowing every sound you made in response to his actions. A tap on your legs was enough for you to take the hint. Arms draped across his shoulders, you jumped up. With you securely in his hold, he carried you out of the kitchen and to your shared bedroom. 

He wasted no time in plopping you atop the mattress, situating himself above you; he needed your lips back on his the way he needed oxygen to breathe. He lifted the hem of your shirt up and took your breasts in his hands, continuing to kiss you fervently. You moaned into his mouth, the weight of his toned body on yours a reminder of just how big he was.

He broke the kiss to fully remove your shirt, tossing it without looking or caring where it landed, but he quickly redirected his attention elsewhere. You threw your head back as he peppered kisses up the smooth column of your neck and slid his hands up your side and over your bra, cupping your breasts again and squeezing them gently. “Kenji,” you whined out, the sound of you saying his name like a sweet melody to his ears. He removed one hand and slipped it behind your back, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. As soon as it came undone, Kenji wasted no time ripping it from your body as well. He pulled away from you just enough to drink in the sight of your bare chest, a carnal groan rumbling from deep within his chest. 

“God, you're so perfect,” he rasped. Eyes still trained on the perfection in front of him, he pulled his own shirt over his head before reassuming his position.

He lowered his head to your chest, his lips latching onto your nipple as his left hand tweaked the other one. You gasped, arching into the warmth of your lover. Kenji had made it his personal mission to excel both on the field and off of it. If he couldn’t excel on the field today, then he would make damn sure to excel on you in the bedroom. Your breath hitched after a particularly brutal suck, your reaction causing him to chuckle against your skin and switch to the other side, his warm mouth replacing his hand. Once he felt satisfied with his ministrations, he began trailing slow, sensual kisses down your abdomen until he reached the waistband of your shorts. He brought both of his hands to the front of the material as he kissed his way back up, removing your bottoms all the while. 

The sharp sound of your zipper being pulled down cut through the sound of your heavy breathing, and your shorts were soon being guided down your legs and ultimately joining your discarded shirt somewhere on the floor. He raised himself until he was kneeling, looking down at you and reveling in the fact that you were all his. “My pretty girl,” he breathed out quietly, nearly awed into silence. His praise sent heat straight to your core, the wetness already beginning to noticeably soak through your panties. You wanted more than anything for him to bury his face between your legs, but tonight was about him. When he leaned over you to resume his ministrations, you pushed against his shoulder with one hand as you raised yourself up with the other, urging him onto his back.

You settled yourself between his legs and mirrored his actions from just a few moments ago. He watched you attentively with baited breath as you successfully tugged his pants downwards, bringing some relief to his aching cock still straining against his boxers. Before you were able to remove his pants entirely, he kicked them off himself. Impatient to feel you against him, he sat up just enough to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you back down with him. Your hands splayed against his bare chest to support yourself, and he chuckled at your shocked expression, waiting on you to make the next move. 

You trailed your hands delicately down his chest as you kissed every inch of his exposed skin that you could, making sure to leave no part of him unappreciated or neglected. You continued kissing your way down his body, his eyes trained on you the whole time. You flicked your eyes up to meet his once you leveled yourself with the bulge in his boxers. He had propped himself up on his elbows to look down at you, his mouth open in complete awe of the sight of you and his breath coming out in quick pants. “Fuck, baby, please keep going,” he whined.

You would do anything he asked so long as he begged like that. You pressed a chaste kiss to the fabric before sliding it down, his erection springing free. He hissed as the cold air enveloped his sensitive cock. You took it in your hand and stroked lightly, paying special attention to the tip. He let out a shuddering breath and then an abrupt moan as you licked the precum leaking from his swollen head.

His fingers threaded themselves through your hair as you slowly worked your way down, taking as much as you could and stroking what you couldn’t. You swirled your tongue around the girth of him, eliciting deep groans from the back of his throat. He bucked his hips involuntarily in response to the overwhelming pleasure, his body falling back against the mattress as you drained out his strength to support himself. You hollowed your cheeks as you bobbed your head, your tongue caressing the underside of his cock. His grip on your hair tightened as the heavenly feeling of your mouth on him had stars bursting behind his eyelids like fireworks.

“So good baby, so so good,” he praised, unable to focus on anything but the all-consuming sensations you were giving him. You felt him twitch in your mouth, indicating just how close he was to cumming down your throat. His imminent orgasm seemed to send him back to reality. He tugged your hair with just enough force to get his message across, and you pulled back with a pop, looking at him with a questioning expression.

“Take your panties off and get on top of me, sweetheart. I wanna cum in your sweet pussy. Gonna make you a mommy.” You did as he said, and he sat up, pulling you with him until you were situated in his lap, your cunt hovering just above where he wanted you most. He lined himself up with your entrance, his other hand placed firmly on your thigh. You slowly sunk down on him, the stretch making you wince. “Such a good girl f’me,” he encouraged, his words starting to slur together a bit. “Doing so well.”

You continued to lower yourself onto his cock, your eyes half-lidded as the sensation of being so full set every nerve alight. Once he bottomed out inside out you, neither of you moved for a moment, pausing to get accustomed to each other’s bodies.

With your hands on his shoulders to keep your balance, you slowly raised yourself up before dropping back down. Kenji grunted and splayed his hands across your hips. Again and again and again, you dropped your weight onto his lap, and each time you did he bucked up into you, not content with letting you do all the work. 

But soon your legs grew tired and you couldn’t keep up the pace. “Kenji,” you whined pitifully. He knew what you wanted and obliged instantly. He flipped you onto your back, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to pump deep inside you, his pace unforgiving. You chanted his name like a mantra, and it only seemed to spur him on. “Want me to cum inside you? Wanna make me a daddy? Hmm?”

“God, yes, Kenji, p-please . . . please don't stop,” you babbled, hardly even aware of what you were saying or who you were anymore as his cock drilled into your tight cunt.

He pulled your legs from his waist and pushed them up so that your knees were hooked over his shoulder, and he was able to push himself in even farther. He continued his brutal pace and you clenched around him, forcing a grunt to fall past his pretty lips. The room was full of the symphony of your shared pleasure, the sounds only adding to the lust you were feeling for one another. 

You were gasping for air, the sight of the man above you nearly enough to make you combust right then and there. “I’m so close, Kenji,” you huffed out breathlessly.

“I know, baby, me too, and—oh fuck—and you're going to take every last drop.”

He pressed a thumb onto your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub. Between that and his cock thrusting in and out of you, you were quickly pushed over the edge, the walls of your pussy clenching tightly around Kenji’s cock, bringing him over with you and causing a ring of white to form around the base of him, both of you calling out each other’s names in your ecstasy.

He stilled inside you as you both gradually came down from your highs, panting heavily. He pulled his softening cock from you, and his cum dripped out now that he was no longer keeping it trapped in. You were thoroughly worn out and barely awake, your eyes drooping shut. A soft smile spread across Kenji’s features as he got up to retrieve a cloth from the adjacent bathroom. He got you cleaned up and plopped back down beside you, tenderly pulling the sheets over your naked figures. He pulled you against his chest securely where you fell asleep almost as soon as you closed your eyes, content to be in the safety of your lover’s arms.

As Kenji lay there holding your sleeping form against his, his thoughts drifted to the ring he had stashed away in his nightstand, his own eyes closing as his smile grew a little.

[noonstate]

i need well meaning cis people to stop attemping to steelman trans healthcare conversations because it basically always ends with them just lying about easily checkable things "no minors are getting irreversible treatments" wrong not true "no minors are having surgery" also false, like instead just say the truth: currently some minors (few, but some) are able to access hrt that will have some irreversible changes on their body, some (even fewer) minors are able to access surgery.

the counter to transphobes screaming "these kids are being irreversibly changed" isn't "no children are accessing this care" it's "puberty is also an irreversible change" and "i think under 18s and even under 16s should be able to make medical decisions actually"

"no minors are accessing this care" means that transphobes can easily point to the examples of minors who are accessing that care, which just make us look like liars. sometimes teenagers and children need to make medical choices on their own. i think a 14 y/o should be able to get an abortion. i think trans kids and teens should be able to have the approriate care, which for some will just be like, picking a new name or haircut, and for some, sure, could be surgery.

[ozzgin]

Request/Idea-

Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)

Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭

Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)

P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible

-👘

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.

In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!

Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons

Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.

Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior

Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.

Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.

If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.

“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.

The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.

Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.

Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.

He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.

[munsster]

fixer upper

A/N: IM ACTUALLY SO EMBARASSED TO ADMIT THIS IS BASED ON ‘FIXER UPPER’ FROM FROZEN 💀💀💀 does that mean it counts as a song fic…….. (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (Season 3)

Summary: The kids aren’t saying you can change him, per se. They’re only saying that love’s a force that’s powerful and strange. 2.8k words

Warnings: fluff, babygirl steve, cursing, mentions of toxic (?) relationship, hopeless pining, pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting

Steve can barely see through his rose-tinted daydream, but he's sure he recognizes your smile as soon as you enter the food court. And you lead a trail of whiny teenagers right to his register. This is the fourth time this week you've heard about Steve's lusturous hair and dazzling eyes. You have to hand it to them, they're not bad salesmen, just a tad young to elicit ethos. What the hell do they know about love anyway.

That's what happens when you're licensed and free on a Friday afternoon: babysitting duty. Now, in the event that Steve had been the one saddled with the party on his day off, he would've argued that they're not really babies and they should be self-sufficient. Knowing Dustin, however, this argument proves to be false almost every time.

But it wasn't Steve, it was you. Steve doesn't think he's heard you complain about one thing in your life.

Not even your deadbeat boyfriend called Brad. Who, as Dustin and Max and Robin love to remind him, is utterly replaceable and on thin ice every other week. Steve knows better than to get his hopes up after three months of having them crushed, though. He's learned to live with the strong sense of yearning he feels whenever you're within thirty feet of him.

Take now, for example: you're coralling half a dozen brats into a somewhat single-file line without even having to raise your voice. He should think it's impressive, but he's too distracted by your lip gloss and your voice and the way you did your hair today.

"I hope you give discounts to distressed young women," you tease, brows knitting when you look up at him. This is the part where he's supposed to respond with something charming. Sexy and charismatic, maybe.

"Oh, uh," he chuckles, "No, I mean, yeah. Sure"—Oh, but you smile at him and all that pent up charisma flies out the neon-framed sliding doors. They chatter out their orders at lightning speed, and he can barely catch half of what they're saying when you look at him like that. You finally make it to the register and pay half price. And your cone is always on the house, of course.

"Isn't he such a gentleman?" Max says unenthusiastically. Lucas elbows her side before retreating with Dustin.

"He's also a great driver!" Will chirps, shuffling away to one of the booths with Mike and El who giggle the whole way there. You turn back to Steve who stares off at them incredulously.

"You see what I have to deal with?" you say with some degree of affection for the chaos.

"Aw, come on," Steve says, tilting his head with a shrug, "you love it."

"I think they keep forgetting I already have a boyfriend."

Not much of a boyfriend if you ask me, he thinks.

But what he says: "Ah, yes. The elusive Brad."

You roll your eyes and grin at him. You know Steve has a crush on you. Or else the kids and Robin wouldn't be so adamant on marketing him to you. It's sweet, really. And honestly, you don't think Steve's unfit to play boyfriend or anything, but you're also not disloyal.

Your scoop melts down the side of the cone between your fingers. Steve nearly hurls himself across the counter handing you a thick stack of napkins.

"Shit, thanks," you huff, lapping at the stream of sticky ice cream. His stomach churns as his face screws into a sickly smile.

"Yeah. No problem."

"No, really"—you wrap a napkin around the cone, shoving the rest into your pocket—"I don't know what I'd do if I had to pay the entire bill everytime one of them had a craving."

"Really, it's not a problem," he shrugs it off like it doesn't come out of his paycheck. "I like helping out pretty girls when I can."

You giggle and tilt your head. "Steve Harrington, you're my hero."

He's almost embarassed at how fast his face flushes red hot and frantic. He reaches for the back of his neck on impulse, and any attempt he makes at seeming suave is foiled by Robin patting him on the shoulder.

"If you think that's heroic, there was this one time he singlehandedly saved Hawkins with this sick baseball bat with nails—"

He huffs, "Robin—"

"No, seriously! Don't be so modest, Steve, you're selling yourself short!"

"I'm not trying to sell myself at all!" he says, turning her around and guiding her towards the door to the back room.

"Great seeing you!" she hollers over her shoulder just before disappearing behind the swinging door. You wave with a chuckle. Steve tuts, fixing his sailor hat and shaking his head.

"Did you really do all that? Save Hawkins, I mean?" you ask. And you seem genuinely interested which is why it guts him. The one girl who actually gives a shit is coincidentally unavailable.

"Yeah," he says, shrugging, "but only to clear my conscience. It's like penance, or whatever."

You giggle, not sure if he's being truthful or playing it off. He meets your eyes and he's sure his heart stops dead in his chest for a beat. Nobody pulls off mall lighting like you.

The kids come skipping back to the counter, declaring they've all got different wants and needs around the mall for the next few hours.

"Okay, hold on, I promised I'd have you guys back before my date," you say, Steve overseeing the conversation from over your shoulder.

"Well," he interjects, "when's your date?" All the attention shifts to Steve, and he suddenly wishes he could swallow up the words and take them back for good.

"Two hours from now. Across town," you say, looking a little guilty knowing he's about to make the kindest offer of the year.

"I'm off at five, so I can just"—stop talking—"take them home after my shift."

"Steve, really, you don't have to—"

El grins, eyes wide as she whispers in Max's ear.

Steve shakes his head, "Sweetheart, believe me, I want to. Besides, you've already been through enough with the rascals. Go have fun."

You turn to the kids, almost pleading with them to accept Steve's generosity.

"Is that okay with you guys? I don't wanna leave you stranded," you admit.

They nod in agreement, throwing out a couple yes's and sure's. They're bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as ever, but you still feel bad dumping them on Steve like this.

Dustin interrupts: "This really just goes to show how Steve is a great candidate for marriage and other domestic relations. He can be odd at times and he might care too much about his hair, but you can tell by his actions that he would be a very reliable husband, a generous life partner, and—"

"And a great friend," you giggle, trying not to let Dustin get too carried away. You have sat through enough of his speeches for one day. "Now, quit trying to set us up!"

Steve rolls his eyes at the boy. "Seriously, at least wait 'til she's single. Then she can reject me for me."

You whip back to face him with a sour look on your face.

"Steven! That's not—that's rude to yourself," you huff, "Say three nice things."

He chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest and squinting at you.

"You're pretty, I like your shoes, and you smell nice."

"About you!"

"Ohh," he feigns surprise, "No." But you reach across the counter to whack him on the arm with a shocking amount of force. The kids chuckle from behind you. Steve can't help but smile when you raise your brows proudly. "Fine! I am deserving of love, I am great company, and my hair looks particularly shiny today."

"Good," you nod, "I agree. And I have to go, see ya!"

"With which one?" he says, watching you jog out of the store waving. "Wait! Sweetheart? Agree with which one??"

Steve sighs sharply, hands perched decidedly on his hips as his gaze falls flat on the militia of pre teens staring him down.

"What do you want?" he says.

"You're hopeless," Max says, mouth pressed in a hard line before she wanders off, arm-in-arm with El.

"Yeah, dude. And kinda desperate," Mike shrugs.

"Hey," he grumbles. Who knew such harsh words could come from such little humans. You'd think they'd be harmless at this age. You'd be wrong. 

"You're a total virgin," Dustin says, very matter-of-factly.

Steve cocks a brow, honestly trying not to laugh at the severity of Dustin's demeanor when he says it. "I don't even think you know what that means."

Dustin blinks. "Well, I think you haven't had sex in long enough that you qualify as one."

"Shit."

...

Much to Steve’s surprise, it only takes butthead Brad two more weeks to absolutely shatter your heart. No one knows the complete details other than it happened at a frat party and you had to walk back to the dorms alone. But Steve doesn’t need complete details to know he wants to shatter Brad’s jaw with his fist.

But he also vowed to use means other than violence to get his point across. He should be awarded for the amount of restraint it took to see your bloodshot eyes and not speed immediately off towards Asshole University like a Brad-seeking atomic missile.

Of course, he’s thankful you felt comfortable enough to call him. In fact, he was the first one you rang. And he knows this fact because you told him while you were sniffling away tears a week and a half after the break up.

Now, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his beemer, curled into your sweater, and listening to late night soft rock radio while he focuses on the dark highway ahead of him. You hadn’t wanted to do anything else but sit in his car and think. His heart clenches everytime you wipe away a tear with your soggy sleeve.

He pulls off the highway during an ad break, finding a secluded diner surrounded by nothing but trees and gas stations. He pulls into a parking spot near the back of the lot where the overhead lights aren’t blinding, but you aren’t completely in the dark. He leaves the car on so the cold doesn’t seep in, engine still purring softly from under the hood.

“Who needs ‘em,” he says in attempt to lighten the mood. “Being single is way cooler. Take it from me. You get a bed all to yourself and you can fart whenever you want.”

You’re frowning, but you know he means well. You just can’t help the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh, come here,” he whispers, leaning over the center console and dipping his hands over your shoulder and around your waist. His arms feel so strong and so warm where they envelop you entirely. Steve always was the best hug you ever receieved.

You can’t help but chuckle wetly into his collar after a moment.

“God, he was such an asshole, wasn’t he?”

“Uh, duh! Doesn’t take a genius to…” Steve laughs, pausing and brushing the hair away from your damp cheeks. “I know, sweetheart, and you deserve heaps better. You were always way too cool for that loser.”

You blink up at him in the low light. There’s a kind of twinkle in your eye that makes the tips of his ears hot. This time, you reach for him, weaving your arms beneath his jacket with a deep sigh. Your breathing slows against his neck, and he rubs your back while your arms tighten a little around his waist.

He can’t help but wonder what you’re thinking whenever you look at him with your doe eyes, seemingly sweet and far too inquisitive. He knows you’re probably just looking, maybe thinking of something else. But the hopeless romantic in him rattles his rib cage and shouts you might actually consider him this time.

“Wanna go get shakes? On me,” he whispers. You sniffle, wiping your aching nose on the cuff of your sleeve.

“I can pay for myself,” you tease, popping open the car door when he cuts the engine.

“Nope! Sorry, I don’t let girls pay, remember? Super sexist, I know. Plus the whole pretty privilege thing. Honestly, I should just be paying you at this point,” he says, hooking his arm around your back and feeling yours reach for his shoulder as you march towards the diner.

“I agree, rich boy,” you chuckle, “Reparations are in order for wrongdoings on behalf of your sex.”

He chuckles. He’s absolutely head over heels.

The waitress seats you at a cozy booth in the corner and makes a casual comment about the cute couple, asking how long you two have been together. Steve flounders at the question, flustered and pink in the face.

“Oh, we’re actually… not together,” you say, laughing awkwardly when she pouts and, again, remarks on how cute you’d be together. You order shakes for the both of you before perching your chin in your hand. Steve’s still reeling when the waitress walks away.

“Funny. We can’t even escape the third-degree from complete strangers,” you tease, winking at him from just a few feet away. Jesus, he’d think you were trying to kill him if you didn’t seem so lighthearted and playful.

“Yeah, pretty funny,” he sighs. And he’s probably being so obvious. Or maybe that’s how he is all of the time, so his heart eyes seem subtle. Or it’s obvious all of the time.

The waitress slides the shakes in front of you, and the bright red cherries sink further into the whipped cream.

“You know,” you murmur between sips, “I always thought you were pretty cute.”

He nearly chokes on his mouthful of chocolate malt, clearing his throat and trying not to crumble in on himself.

“Oh. Yeah, I get that a lot,” he huffs, “Mostly from little old ladies, but—Hey!”

You flick him and say, “Really! I know it’s not couth considering… Brad and all, but…”

“You’re being facetious,” Steve accuses.

“No—”

“Sarcastic!”

“Steve—”

“Ironic?”

“Try serious!” you hum, “I’m just saying, you’re very handsome. I was shocked to learn you were single when we first met.”

Steve’s blushing and puffing trying to maintain eye contact.

“What can I say? I’m just,” he huffs, “I’m not really worried about it.”

You tilt your head. “You’re not?”

“Nah. I know the right girl will find me in the end. Even if it takes a while. I don’t mind waiting for the right one.”

You settle back in the padded seat, wincing when it squeals beneath you. It makes you feel a little dejected, but you suppose he’s right. Especially because he seems so confident. So sure. It’s admirable. You want to be that sure of soulmates and love and the future.

“I feel the same way,” you whisper. He finishes off the rest of his glass with a smile.

“Though, it doesn’t exactly help having a bunch of little shitheads telling you to go get laid all the time,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it” you lean in, “Just break up with him, steve is so much nicer. Dump that loser. Steve has a big crush on you.”

“They said that?” Steve’s not dumb, he’s sure you know by now, but he thought it was all conjecture. They will be hearing about this next time they want free ice cream.

“Yeah, that was like their main point. But I know with all the love in my heart they’re all full of shit.”

You shrug, and he chuckles dryly. He can’t decide whether you knowing is for better or for worse.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

Steve drives you home. You fall asleep in the car, and he keeps the radio low so as not to wake you. By the time he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t care about the time or the fact that he lives far. He does, however, care about the way you smile lazily and peck his cheek in thanks.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

He says it but he wants to tell you what he’s feeling. He wants to ask if you’re over Brad. He knows you’re not and that’s okay, but he wants to ask if he can hold your hand to keep it warm. He wants to ask what kind of flowers you like and if it would be okay for him to drop them off on your doorstep tomorrow. He has so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t want to suffocate you.

He doesn’t know that you wouldn’t mind him asking.

more like this

masterlist

[januaryembrs]

hot chocolate!!!

what about bau!reader who’s super affectionate with spencer (and he just takes it with a blush and sugary coffee)

example; jawline kisses that are supposed to be cheek kisses instead of hello’s and goodbye’s & reader having her arm around spencer’s waist at all times cuz she’s just so used to his body warmth!!!

(for some reason i’m imagining s9 reid & new-ish reader but u can do what u want ofc!!)

FUGITIVE AFFECTIONS | Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

description: fugitive (noun) meaning escape, runaway. (adjective) meaning fleeting, brief, passing.

Length: 1.1k

warnings: fluff fluff FLUFF.

He knew what was coming the second he heard her footsteps. The coffee machine spluttered with effort as it churned out his third cup of the day, and he was already perched with the sugar waiting for the appliance to do its thing. Spencer barely had chance to acknowledge the approaching figure when he felt arms wrap around his waist, someone attaching themselves to his back with a feather light kiss to his spine. 

“Good morning,” He called over his shoulder, and you hummed, quickly squeezing the soft pooch of his stomach and releasing him. 

“Morning,” You said, and he leaned up to open the cupboard door, which wasn’t a big feat for him with his heinously long limbs. Plopping a mug down on the side, he poured coffee in your cup first before he started on his own, “Reports due today?” 

“Hotch wants the Minnesota and the Nevada cases wrapped up,” He said, sliding the milk and sugar over to your side of the counter and keeping his head down. Spencer felt his ears run hot, like they usually did whenever you got so close to him, which just happened to be always. 

He doubted the words ‘personal space’ were ever a thing in your vocabulary. It had started with Garcia, with the two of you linking arms and braiding each other's hair after two weeks of you moving to the BAU, and he’d figured that Garcia had won you over with that natural, bubbly charm of hers. But Spencer was perceptive, and he’d quickly realised the behaviour was not strictly limited to Penelope and her chirpy attitude. You tended to walk close to everyone, like you were trying to mesh you bodies in with them and the shoulder bumps and hands brushed against one another didn’t matter. In the end, rather than push you away, Morgan had taken to wrapping an arm around your shoulder as the two of you waltzed around the office together. Even Blake was succumbing to your touchy-feely attitude as you liked to cosy up next to her on the jet, usually falling asleep with your head on her shoulder, and she thought little of it now, just continuing with her crosswords unbothered. 

And then you’d set your sights on Spencer. 

He supposed you hadn’t quite got the memo about his germaphobia, or perhaps the transference of bacteria between humans during simple hand holding just never occurred to you. Yet after just a month of being desk buddies with him, he nearly jumped out of his skin the day you slipped your fingers in between his when the two of you had been paired up on a case and you were heading down the witness’s driveway to interview them. 

He’s been about to ask what the hell you were doing, or perhaps scramble to shove you off, and sanitise his hands with the emergency gel he kept in his bag at all times. But by the time he’d looked over at you, his cheeks a flaming strawberry colour with what he’d thought of as annoyance, you were simply smiling at him, and began swinging your joined hands back and forth, nudging your temple into his shoulder affectionately. 

“You look really pretty in that purple shirt, Spencer,” You said simply, and whatever scathing remark about how eighty percent of pathogens are transferred during hand holding was robbed from his gullet and he was stunned into silence. The way you’d said his name alone made his lips part in wonder, because he’d never heard it said like that. 

“T-thankyou, I like your jacket.” He cringed as soon a he said it, and the two of you looked down to your government issued FBI vest, the same one he wore, the same one Hotch wore, the same one they’d all worn for the past nine years. 

You sniggered, bumping him again with your forehead like you were a cat purring up against him, marking your territory. 

“You’re cute,”

You were full of sweet, loving words like that he realised, all buttercups and candy floss and honey and sweetie and my love and he felt himself expecting it now, biting his lip in worry if you were ever just the tiniest bit too busy to fluff him up with affection.

Like when you’d been called out by Blake on an emergency, the two of you scrambling to grab the SUV keys to go meet Morgan and JJ where they were moving into the building  after the suspect. 

The two of you had all but ran out of the precinct in the effort to catch up with the other agents, leaving Spencer, pen still in his hand as he mapped out the geographical profile, and he hadn’t realised anything was missing until he heard the door slam shut and he hadn’t felt the warmth of your hug, your hand in his hair ruffling it lovingly, not even a ‘goodbye, sweetie!’

Spencer pouted, despite the fact he’d spent the first few weeks wondering if he should be shying away from your touch because he was quickly running out of sanitizer and had yet to want you to stop. He felt like his routine had been interrupted, because that’s definitely what the source of his disappointment was, not the fact he wondered if he had done something wrong, and yet before he could think too hard about it, the door swung back open, Blake yelling something from the hallway that he could just about make out was your name, before a body crashed into his side and your lips were on his jaw, kissing him lightly through laboured breaths. 

“Bye, Spence.” You murmured, kissing up his cheek a few times to apologise for the wait, and he hadn’t even had the chance to return the favour through the fish out of water gape as he watched you run back to the door, Blake looking at you incredulously. 

“I just watched you run up three flights of stairs for that?” She asked, the door slowly closing behind you and giving him unfiltered snooping on your conversation. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt, the same one that you had just kissed over and over again like it was a normal thing for you two, and he wondered if he could coordinate you rushing out of the office every time if it meant he’d have that again. 

“It’s Spencer, it was important,” You insisted, and he squoze his hands so tightly his nails dug into his palm, because it was too late to tell you just how much you’d made him feel in such a tiny gesture, and the electricity from your kisses had to come out somewhere. If not, Spencer worried he might explode. 

His hand sanitizer sat empty in his pocket, the same way it had been for months, and Spencer couldn’t care less.

[alisonsfics]

place to crash

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: carmy steps in as your knight in shining armor when your apartment’s electricity breaks, which makes you both test the line between friends and something more

word count: 2.9k

warnings: swearing, whole lotta fluff

“Oh, come on. Hurry the fuck up,” you muttered to yourself. You were currently on hold with the electricity company.

After a hectic service at the Bear, you had come home to your pitch black apartment with no power. The one thing you wanted to do was curl up and eat some leftovers while watching some tv, but that clearly wasn’t happening tonight.

“Hello? Are you still there?” The man’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Yes, I’m here,” you said, quickly. You didn’t want to risk him hanging up on you and having to start this process all over again.

“So, it looks like our crew has already gone home for the day. We can’t send anyone to look at it until tomorrow morning.” He told you. You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, thank you. Have a fantastic night,” you said, passive aggressively.

You threw your phone down onto the kitchen counter.

With the electricity out, that also meant no air conditioning. You pulled your hair up into a quick ponytail. You were already sweating, so you knew there was no way you could stay at your apartment for the night.

You glanced back down at your phone, and it felt like the answer was staring you in the face. You opened your contacts and saw the one person you knew you could always rely on.

You clicked on Carmy’s name, smiling to yourself when you saw his contact photo. It was a goofy picture of the two of you from a party that Sydney threw. He had his arm haphazardly thrown around your shoulders. You were sticking your tongue out at the camera while he kissed your cheek.

You both had a history of becoming more affectionate than normal when you had been drinking. That night was a great example.

It only rang once before he answered. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” He asked, immediately. Having seen Carmy less than an hour ago, he knew something was going on if you were calling him so soon.

“Hey, I’m fine, no need to panic. I just have a little favor to ask you, but you can totally say no—” you started to explain before he interrupted you.

“You’ve got it. What do you need?” He answered without a second thought. It made your cheeks heat up. Carmy was always ready to drop everything for you.

“You don’t even know what it is yet, Berzatto.” You told him, giggling to yourself. You couldn’t see him, but you could perfectly imagine the way he’d shrug. “I don’t need to know. I have no reason to doubt you.” He said, simply.

“Not even gonna make me work for it?” You teased him.

“You never have to work for it. Not with me,” he told you, honestly. Every time you talked to Carmy, it became harder for you to pretend you weren’t head over heels for him.

“Alright, well the power is out at my apartment—” you started to tell him. “Come stay at my place tonight,” he offered. You felt so grateful for him.

“Are you sure it’s not a burden? You don’t have to feel pressured to say yes.” You assured him, but you knew his answer wouldn’t change.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not letting you stay at your apartment with no power. Come on over. I’m making dinner now. You eaten yet?” He asked. “No, not yet,” you told him.

“Alright, perfect. I’ll make you a plate, and I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said, and you could hear that he was smiling.

“Thank you, Carmy, truly. I’ll see you soon,” you said, before hanging up.

You quickly grabbed a bag and stuffed some essentials inside it before heading out the door. Carmy’s apartment was only a short walk from your apartment. After five or ten minutes, you were at his door.

You knocked on the door and heard a lot of noise on the other side. “It’s open,” you heard Carmy yell.

You turned the doorknob slowly before walking inside. You saw Carmy turning his pullout couch into a bed. He was neatly fixing the blankets and adding some pillows.

You also noticed the table was set with two plates of pasta, and you couldn’t tell where, but from somewhere in the apartment jazz music was playing.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Carmy,” you said, feeling guilty. He put a final pillow on the bed and walked towards you. “I wanted to,” he said, simply. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I’m sorry about your apartment,” he said, sincerely.

“None of that is your fault, Carmy. You don’t have to apologize.” You replied. His hand grazed the small of your back, and he gestured towards the dining table. He even made sure to pull your chair out from the table for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you said, unable to get the smile off your face. You always felt like a giggly schoolgirl around Carmy. “Only the best for you,” he jokingly flirted, but wasn’t willing to push it any further.

Carmy cared about you so much. You were practically his world, and he was terrified that if he told you that, you’d leave.

After eating dinner, you both got ready for bed in Carmy’s bathroom. It made you feel like a married couple, and you had to force yourself to ignore it.

“I know I’ve asked you like ten times, but are you sure you don’t want my bed? I can sleep on the couch.” He offered, wanting you to feel right at home. You grabbed his hand without thinking about it.

“Carmy, you are so sweet, but I promise that sleeping on a couch will not kill me. I will be fine, sweetie.” You told him. You weren’t sure where the pet name had come from. You’d never called Carmy “sweetie” before.

Carmy had practically jumped out of his skin hearing the name roll so smoothly off your tongue. He only wanted to hear you call him sweetie from now on. It took everything in his power to not confess his love to you right then and there.

“Okay, fine,” he gave up, knowing you were more stubborn than he was. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You happily wrapped your arms around him as he held on to you.

You were taking in every part of this moment. You could smell his cologne, the same one he’d worn since you met him. You’d told him how much you liked it once, and he promised himself he’d never change it.

“Goodnight. Sleep well,” he said, kissing the top of your head and leaving you smitten.

You walked into the living room, and fell asleep within seconds of crawling under the blankets.

In the middle of the night, a sound woke you up. You jumped to sit up, looking around to see what the noise was. The bright LED numbers from the clock read 3:42. You realized the sound was someone jiggling the doorknob on the front door.

You jumped off the couch and ran into Carmy’s bedroom. You were half awake, and it was the only thing you could think of.

You reached forward and placed your hand on Carmy’s forearm, trying to wake him up. He jumped up as soon as you touched him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, quickly. Even being half awake and in a dark room, he was somehow still able to sense that you were afraid. “It sounds like somebody’s trying to come in the front door.” You told him, which woke him up fast.

He grabbed the bat from beside his bed and headed towards the front door. Your fear only made him more confident. He knew that he needed to step up and protect you.

You stayed behind him. He got within a few feet of the door. Then, you both saw the door start to open.

“Get the hell out,” Carmy threatened whoever was on the other side of the door.

The door quickly was flung all the way open. “Cousin, chill the fuck out. It’s me.” You both heard Richie say.

You both breathed a sigh of relief. Carmy dropped the bat down to his side, irritated at Richie. “Do you know what time it is? What the fuck are you doing here?” Carmy asked him.

Richie flipped on the light switch and held up his spare key, as though that explained his presence.

“Oh shit, Y/N? What’re you doing here?” Richie asked, finally noticing you standing behind Carmy.

Before you could even answer, Richie’s eyes darted between the two of you. He saw Carmy just in boxers and you in an oversized tshirt, which he assumed must’ve belonged to Carmy. Then, it made sense to him.

“Oh wait. You two are hooking up?” He asked, smirking at the both of you. Richie was the most convinced of all your friends that you and Carmy were meant for each other. He saw it all, especially the way that your’s and Carmy’s gaze always found each other in a crowded room.

“No!” You and Carmy both quickly assured him, but Richie’s smirk didn’t fade. He didn’t believe either of you for a second.

“She’s just sleeping here tonight,” Carmy tried to explain.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure there’s been lots of sleeping going on here.” Richie teased, causing Carmy to put his head in his hands.

“The electricity is out at my apartment, so Carmy’s letting me crash here tonight. That’s it,” you tried to shut Richie up.

“So you came here for the electricity?” Richie asked, very aware of the double entendre. He loved how much he could get under yours and Carmy’s skin with just a few comments. “You’re the worst, Richie.” Carmy said, exasperatedly.

“See, we have the pullout,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. You saw a mischievous glint in Richie’s eyes. Richie was like a brother, so you knew the joke he was going to make before he even opened his mouth.

“The pullout COUCH, you fucking child,” you said, smacking his arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmy with his eyes trained on the floor and his hand covering his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

You crossed your arms and frowned at him. “You are not helping,” you said, glaring at him. He quickly held his hands up in surrender, not wanting you to hit him too.

Richie moved past the joke, but wasn’t quite ready to stop teasing you yet.

“The couch looks pretty messy to me. I wonder how that happened.” He teased. You knew that was just trying to get under your skin, but if you stopped denying what he was saying, he’d be so much worse.

“Yeah, cause I jumped up in a panic thinking someone was breaking in.” You defended. Carmy placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles. You and Richie were the two most stubborn people he knew, and he knew that neither of you liked to lose an argument.

“And little Carmy was ready to protect you? I won’t lie, that’s pretty sweet, dude.” Richie said, watching the way Carmy’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.

“So, why’re you here?” Carmy asked, changing the subject. Richie plopped himself down on the couch. “I need to crash here too. My neighbors are in a big fight and they won’t shut the fuck up.” Richie explained.

“Well, you aren’t staying here. Go find some other fucking place to stay.” Carmy said. He didn’t want anyone to break up his alone time with you.

“That’s not what you told her.” Richie argued, gesturing towards you. Richie had a point, but Carmy would never tell you no.

“Richie, just please leave. Besides, there’s nowhere for you to sleep,” Carmy begged him. Carmy knew if Richie stayed out, it would ruin everything with you. Richie would tease every move he made, and he couldn’t be as affectionate with you. That should have been Carmy’s first indicator that you both were more than friends.

“I’m taking the couch, you two figure out the rest.” Richie said, grabbing you both by the wrists and shoving you into Carmy’s bedroom. Carmy went to open the door, but realized Richie was leaning against the back of the door.

“Richie, let us out,” Carmy begged. You went and sat down on Carmy’s bed. “Carmy, c’mere, you know Richie’s stubborn, and he won’t give up,” you said, patting the spot next to you.

“Reminds me of someone else,” he teased you as he sat beside you. You lightly smacked his arm. “I am not stubborn. I was out there defending myself but also defending you. He’s gonna be insufferable at work tomorrow. He’ll tell everyone that we hooked up, and we’ll never hear the end of it.” You rambled.

“He’s been trying to get us to hook up for years, it might just be easier to actually do it and shut him up.” Carmy joked before he could process the words he was saying.

You felt your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry, Carmen Berzatto. Did I mishear you? Did you just suggest that we hook up?” You asked, truly stumped.

“Don’t look at me like that. I was just joking.” He tried to backpedal. He couldn’t read your expression, which was a first. It was because if he’d actually suggested it, you would have said yes immediately.

“I’m sorry about this. First, your apartment. And now, Richie being Richie.” He said, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Carmy, none of this is your fault.” You said, grabbing his hand and tracing your finger over his tattoos.

You both were painfully aware of the fact that you’d never been this physically close before. This was beyond the level of affection that you both could defend as friendly.

“So, if it wasn’t Richie, you were gonna protect me?” You asked.

“Of course, I was. I’m always watching out for you. Gotta keep my girl safe,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You sat straight up. Once again, you thought you’d misheard him. “Oh, fuck it,” he said, cupping your face and kissing you roughly. It didn’t take you any time to kiss him back.

He pressed his palms against your back and carefully pushed you back onto his bed. You ran your fingers across his toned chest. You could feel his muscles flex under your touch.

“I thought you said you were joking,” you teased him as he pressed kisses down your jaw. He let out a soft chuckle, his chest shaking against you. “Why? Do you want me to stop?” He teased.

“Fuck no,” you mumbled, cupping his face and pulling him down to kiss you. His fingers fumbled with the hem of your tshirt, letting his hands slip under it and caress your skin.

He felt you groan against the kiss and took it as a sign to keep going. One of his hands crept higher up your chest while he removed his other hand. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and was ready to pull it over your head when the door burst open.

“Richie, the fuck? Get out,” Carmy yelled, quickly pulling your shirt back down to make sure you were completely covered. You hid your face in Carmy’s chest, not wanting to face Richie. You could already imagine the smug grin on his face.

“Well well well,” Richie said, in his signature “I told you so” tone.

Carmy didn’t want to put up with his gloating. “Richie, enough. Out!” He repeated, grabbing a pillow off the bed and throwing it at Richie’s face. The whole time he kept one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him and letting you hide from Richie.

Richie jumped backwards to dodge the pillow and finally closed the bedroom door. As soon as the door clicked closed, Carmy cupped your face with one hand and kissed you again.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as he ran his hand down your side. He let his fingers trace every inch of your skin.

You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Did I do something wrong?” Carmy asked, immediately concerned.

You quickly shook your head, trying to reassure him. “There’s nothing I want more right now, but we can’t do this with Richie here. You know that, Carm.” You said, caressing his cheek.

“One part of my brain knows that, but the other part knows how long I’ve waited for this, for you,” pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, “but you’re right.” he said.

“We’ve waited this long, what’s a little longer?” You joked, smiling up at him. He kissed your forehead, falling in love with the way you were looking at him. “Tomorrow night. I’m gonna take you out to dinner, and we’ll have a real date. I’m gonna spoil you.” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, leaning forward to peck his lips.

You both sat in silence, soaking in the moment. You both knew that it was perfect, and you wanted to remember it forever.

“You look really pretty in the moonlight.” You complimented him, admiring the way Carmy’s curls framed his face.

“You’re making it really hard to not fall in love with you,” he teased, pulling you in for another kiss.

taglist: @laurakirsten0502 @miraclesoflove @nathaliabakes @millipop18 @lillyssh-tposts @shyinadarkplace @vanteguccir @missroro @guacam011y @sw33t-cupid @ice-dtae @leyannrae @sia2raw @nyx2021 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @shyconversationalbookworm @shadowhuntyi @visenyaverse @ruzannetheseahorse @superdeath @wandaswifeyforlifey @spookyqueen @mcuswhore @bookwormchick91 @princess-evans-addict @n3ssm0nique @peakascum @cjand10 @namsey1987 @supernaturalstilinski @stephv213 @warriormirkwood @one-sweet-gubler @narliesstuff @bibissparkles @stupiidfrogs @navs-bhat

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[wandaslittleweirdo]

WE NEED A PART TWO PRETTY PLEASE

https://www.tumblr.com/wandaslittleweirdo/757441289957638144/many-many-stepmommywanda-thoughts-tw-stepcest

A/N: turned out a little longer than expected…..heh..|| Part 1 , masterlist

tw: mentions of murder and blood, stepcest, dating a man, possessiveness, jealousy, pet names, this writer needs to stop skipping therapy, toxic relationships/attachments, manipulation, dom/sub dynamics, fucked up fluffy ending, age gap > reader is 22 wanda is 35

stepmommy!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader

ೀ Wanda had picked up the phone to call her friend from church, but paused when she heard your voice on the other line. She leaned over the counter, nibbling at the nail on her thumb as she curiously eavesdrops on your conversation. Your flirtatious tone directed to the disgustingly sweet boy made her jaw tighten, slamming the phone back down and gritting her teeth.

When you ended the call you walked into the kitchen and explained to Wanda that you’d be going out with a friend and will be back at a reasonable hour. She waited for you to tell her that it was a boy who obviously likes you and that it was actually a date, but you didn’t. You happily skip out of the kitchen with your sandwich and then off into your room. How dare you do this to her after she’d spent months and months perfecting you to how she wanted? Clearly, she needed to do something that you’d take seriously.

Matthew had picked out the most beautiful but quiet restaurant in town, knowing how anxious you get when it comes to new and busy places because of how strict your step mother is. He was refreshing and new, a breath of fresh air. He loved cracking jokes, but he could also be a little shy and got flustered easily. For example when you were both finished with dinner he scratched the back of his neck wondering if he could kiss you goodnight. You saw the nervousness in his eyes and you adored it, confidently taking his hand in yours before leaning up to kiss him.

But when he had visited the bathroom and didn’t come out, you assumed he got nervous and alerted him that you’d be leaving. You knew Wanda would be fuming if you stayed any longer. There was no response from his end, but you didn’t let yourself think about it too much. He’s just busy, you kept telling yourself.

You put the keys in the hole of your front door and twist it, listening to the faint click followed by the creak of the door handle as you pushed it down.

You gently push open the door and peek inside, a lamp from the living room casting its warm glow through your home. You creak the door open more and think Wanda must’ve left the light on before she went to bed.

Glancing into the lounge, the first thing you spot is Wanda’s back and her staring at something on the floor. It’s completely silent. No radio, no television, and the only movement you could hear is your own. You take one more step and freeze, paralysed by the sight in front of you.

Matthew’s body laying in a pool of blood, the thick liquid staining the carpet. His eyes are shut and his hands are painted in red, fatally attempting to cover the wounds on his stomach. Wanda towers over him, a kitchen knife coated in red gripped tightly in her hand. A tear of blood drips from the blade, and you watch it hit the ground to then it sinking into the carpet.

“W-Wh..” You lip quivered, voice cracking as you took a step back. “You’re home late.” She kicked the boy onto his back with her boot. You grabbed hold of the wall next to you, feeling dizzy watching his body flop lifelessly and how she showed no emotion to the deceased boy in front of her.

“I-Is that?..” She finally turns around to look at you and you felt chills run down your spine. You thought you had seen Wanda to her fullest potential, how sick and twisted she could be. But the blood sprinkled on her face and how it soaked several areas of her clothing made it clear that you never knew her as well as you thought you did.

A relieved smile hiked up her cheeks. She missed you so much. She also saw the terror in your eyes, not just for yourself but because you knew that simply pecking someone on the lips could put them in the same position as the poor gentleman who lays dead on the floor. This bought her a great sense of peace. You finally learnt your lesson, it’s a shame she had to go this far.

“There’s my girl.” Her voice softens as she stepped towards you, dropping the knife on the floor. You flinch hearing it clang, the sound ringing in your ears. You don’t catch her words, the only audible sound for you was your loud heartbeat and your ragged breathing. You couldn’t take your eyes away from him. A tear trickles down your cheek, causing her smile to fall and her demeanour to become hostile.

“Why are you crying Y/N? He was never going to love you like I do.”

“I told you I’d kill anyone who touches you. I warned you. You made me do this.”

“I’d do anything for you, sweet girl.” She calmly takes your chin between her fingers and places her other hand onto your shoulder. Her touch is delicate and familiar. So comforting and soft, you couldn’t help but lean into her. “You see now that I’d actually kill for you. And I’d do it again because I love so much, darling.” She leans down, tilting her head and brushing her lips against yours.

“Do you love me?” Your breathing quickens, reaching up and curling your fingers around the back of her neck to pull her closer. You eagerly tangle your hands in her hair as she moans, boldly pushing her tongue between your lips.

The kiss deepens and the world fades away. The heat of the moment, the rush of desire. It all felt so good, you could feel it in your chest and your stomach. You pull away and she whimpers, chasing your lips until you place a hand on her chest. Your faces now smeared with blood, you both smile. To others, this moment would be disturbing and inhumane. But for you and Wanda, it feels like the two of you against the world.

“I love you too, Wanda.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part III)

Those who have been with you since the beginning discuss the differences they've noticed with and without your presence.

Content Warning(s): Jean, Kaeya, & Albedo Story Quest Spoilers; Mondstadt Archon Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader; [T/N] = Traveler Name

Word Count: 2.1k

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Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3;

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The sun had fully risen over the horizon by the time all the stores in Mondstadt's main plaza had opened for the day. Blanche was finishing setting up her fruit trays on the counter by the time Marjorie and Timeaus arrived at their respective stores. Sara, on the other hand, had already opened up Good Hunter half an hour ago. This was in case there were any early birds or if any of the aforementioned shopkeepers wanted a quick bite to eat before work.

Today, the Traveler and Paimon were examples of early birds, as the two were enjoying breakfast from Good Hunter. However, as they were eating their respective meals, they were approached by Raymond, a Knight of Favonius.

"Morning, Traveler. Morning, Paimon," he greeted. "Sorry to interrupt your meal, but I'm here to inform you that your presence has been requested by the Acting Grand Master. She requests that you head on over to headquarters immediately."

Paimon groaned. "Does Jean really have to summon us this early? Paimon hasn't even finished her Fisherman's Toast yet."

"I apologize once again, but it would be rude to keep the Acting Grand Master waiting," Raymond replied.

The Traveler shook their head. "No worries. I'm just about finished anyway." They got up from their seat. "Would you like for me to get you a to-go box, Paimon?

"Get a to-go box? Has Paimon not already proved to you what she's capable of? Watch this!" Paimon proclaimed before chowing down the rest of her Fisherman's Toast as quickly as Paimonly possible.

...Said way involved burying herself nose-deep in her plate and practically inhaling all the food left on her plate. The Traveler and Raymond even had to hold their hands up to their faces to protect themselves from any flying food.

Maybe they shouldn't have bought her a triple stack...

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Despite being invited by Jean herself, The Traveler decided to knock on her office door. It was only proper manners.

"Enter."

They opened the door and allowed Paimon to enter first before letting themselves in. As soon as Jean recognized them, she gracefully got up from her chair and walked around to the front of her desk.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Honorary Knight. I know you must be tired.”

The Traveler shook their head. "It was no trouble. Paimon and I were already up to begin with."

"Is that so? It's a shame my cuties didn't think to greet me in the library first thing in the morning. Your company can certainly revitalize this mage's energy." Came a voice to their left. Both newcomers swiveled their heads to look at the other visitor partially hidden in the corner.

"Lisa? Were you called here by Jean as well?" questioned Paimon.

"I was," Lisa confirmed, perplexion etched on her face, "Though I haven't been told why yet."

"I called you both here for the same reason. However, not everyone has arrived yet. We're still waiting on two more people. Once they’ve arrived, I’ll explain everything," Jean explained.

To pass the time, the Traveler, Paimon, and Lisa began to catch up with each other on what had happened since they last met while Jean leaned against her desk and peeked at the ticking clock on the wall from time to time.

She wasn't worried about the other two members being late. They each were fellow Knights of Favonius members after all. They know the standards that need to be set in order to maintain their position.

A few minutes later, everyone in the office could hear rapid footsteps from outside the room. Not even a second later the door was thrown open by Amber who quickly entered the room and put her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

pant ... pant ... "Sorry I'm late, Jean. I got caught up with something."

Jean shook her head. "Not to worry, Amber. We haven't started talking about anything yet." Jean snuck a peak behind Amber towards the open door. "Did you happen to see Kaeya on the way here?"

Amber straightened up and nodded her head. "I did, actually. He's..."

"Right here."

Kaeya smoothly walked into the office and quietly shut the door Amber left open behind him.

Jean gave a quick nod. "Good. That should be everybody." Everyone gathered around Jean in a semi-circle. "I bet you're all wondering why I've called you here this early."

"To put it simply, I'd rather get this discussion out of the way before we all start work for the day. This mainly concerns the Traveler, but I promise you all are important to this discussion as well."

Jean turned her attention to the Traveler. "First off, how are your adventures going?"

The Traveler looked at Jean in confusion. Jean called all of them here just to ask them about their adventures? "...Pretty well I guess. I've hit a few obstacles here and there but it was nothing I couldn't handle."

Jean nodded. "That's good to hear. And what about this latest obstacle you're facing?"

Now it was Paimon's turn to be confused. "Latest obstacle...?" she murmured, "Oh! Do you mean [Y/N]?"

Amber, Lisa, and Kaeya all widened their eyes in surprise as they looked at Paimon. Jean nodded once again.

"Yes. That's exactly the reason why I've called you all here. Although I may not know much about [Y/N], I understand that you all have had some experience with them. If you could tell me all that you know about them, I'll get a better understanding of what our next action should be."

The Traveler nodded in understanding before looking around at the others. "Should I go first, or do you all want to share your thoughts now?"

Amber was the first to reply. "Sure! I'll go first. In my opinion, the Traveler and [Y/N] are the same person, but also different people. When I first met the Traveler outside of the Whispering Woods, they introduced themselves as [Y/N]. However, once we dealt with the sources of Stormterror's power in the abandoned Four Winds' Temples, they seemed much livelier. That was when they explained that they were actually [T/N], and [Y/N] was this 'ghost or entity-like thing' that possessed them against their will.

Lisa nodded. "It's true. When we were traversing through the last temple, I felt as if my body was not under my control, but I was still conscious to witness what I was doing. It was scary at first, but after a while, I kind of got used to it."

Jean raised a skeptical brow. "And why is that?"

"Because [Y/N] and I were trying to achieve the same thing. They guided me through the temple, defeated all of the enemies, and destroyed Stormterror's crystal, all things that I originally intended to do myself."

Jean brought a hand to her chin. "Interesting..."

Kaeya raised his hand, signaling to speak next. "It's not just that, either. Later on when I had the Traveler lure some Treasure Hoarders to some ruins, one of them accidentally activated a Ruin Guard while attempting to flee. We managed to take it down, of course, while being guided by [Y/N], but I noticed that I had gotten stronger in between fighting the treasure hoarders outside the ruins and fighting the Ruin Guard. We defeated the Ruin Guard a lot quicker than I thought we would."

Jean furrowed her brows. "But Ruin Guards are a lot harder to defeat than mere Treasure Hoarders. Surely you must be exaggerating?"

Kaeya chuckled. "I can assure you, Jean. The strength I gained when guided by [Y/N] is no exaggeration. Surely you must've felt their presence yourself?"

"Outside of the day when I got burnout, no. But even then, I didn't exactly feel I was much stronger."

"Oh!" Amber blurted out. "Speaking of getting stronger, I've noticed that [Y/N] has improved some of my abilities as well! For example, the day before we pulled that whole sleeping stunt on [Y/N], we were helping them complete some commissions around Mondstadt. While we were completing them, I noticed that I could suddenly fire two arrows with one shot! Not only that, but I was able to manually detonate my Baron Bunny by shooting at it!"

Amber frowned. “The only downside is that I haven't had much success replicating these abilities when I'm not with [Y/N].”

"So you've noticed as well?" Lisa asked. "I thought I was the only one to notice." She turned her attention back to Jean. "You see, [Y/N] typically has me defeat hydro slimes whenever they appear, and with them I'm normally able to defeat them in one or two hits. However, I wanted to test a theory I've been thinking about recently. So I went to go find a hydro slime and see how many hits it took to defeat it. Just as I thought, it took nearly double the number of hits before it was beaten."

"I see. And is this something that we should look into?"

"No. I just thought it was something worth mentioning."

"Alright then. And when [Y/N] does guide you, is it only to complete commissions?" Jean inquired.

"Oh no!" Amber eyes sparkled. "We've been helping the Honorary Knight and [Y/N] all across Teyvat! It's amazing!"

Jean smiled. "Then you all must be enjoying your adventures, I presume?"

"But of course!" exclaimed Amber. "I've always wanted to see the world beyond Mondstadt and it's just as grand as I imagined."

"That's good to hear." Jean then looked down at the floor and sighed. "...Honestly, there are times when I wish I could throw my work to the side and travel alongside you, Honorary Knight."

"Paimon is certain that [Y/N] would love to have you join their Adventure Team! If it becomes possible, Paimon will put in a good word for you."

Jean chuckled. "Thanks, Paimon." She turned her attention to the Traveler. "And what about you? What do you know about [Y/N]?"

"It's a pretty long story. The first time I ever got a clue as to who [Y/N] was was when I was in the middle of helping Albedo with his research. During the middle of some experiments, I felt their presence leaving. However, almost immediately after they left I saw a bright light in the sky. It only lasted for a few seconds, but when the light went away, I saw that it had come from Celestia!"

Jean looked shocked for a moment but quickly composed herself. She had an image to maintain after all. "Really?! From Celestia?"

"Yes. Albedo saw it as well and it piqued his curiosity. To make a long story short, he found out that for a brief moment, the light that spawns from Celestia forms as if one is opening a door to an unlit room. He hypothesizes that whoever [Y/N] is, they are not from Celestia but somewhere beyond it. Maybe even another world entirely."

Kaeya smirked. "From another world, eh? So does that mean [Y/N] is an alien?"

The Traveler shook their head. "I don't think so. Most of the worlds I traveled to before Teyvat were inhabited by humans. I would assume that if [Y/N] is from another world, they would be human as well.

"How certain are you?" inquired Jean.

"I'm like 90% certain they're human," the Traveler confirmed. Amber hummed in thought.

"Do you think they might be a god?"

“A god whose eyes are focused on a world separate from theirs? Sounds unlikely to me,” countered Lisa.

"Regardless..." Jean interjected. "[Y/N] has been absent for a while now, correct?" The Traveler nodded. "Have you thought about continuing your journey without them should they not come back?"

"I've had the thought. But I'm willing to wait however long is necessary if it means I get to see them again."

Jean put a hand to her chin. "Are you sure? I would gladly be willing to have Amber, Lisa, or Kaeya travel with you for the foreseeable future."

Paimon nodded. "It's been almost a week since that incident, and yet Paimon has never seen the Traveler lose any determination at all!"

Jean nodded as well. "I see. In that case, I believe that is all I have to say for this discussion. It was nice meeting you once again, Honorary Knight."

"The same goes for you, Jean.”

Everyone exchanged goodbyes with each other and, minus Jean, prepared to leave the office. However, just before they left...

"Hey. Is it just me, or is it getting brighter outside?"

Kaeya looked towards Amber. "I'm sure it's just the clouds moving past the sun."

Amber shook her head, keeping her gaze towards the window. "No... I didn't see any clouds when I first came in..."

The room was silent. Some looked to the window while others kept their attention on Amber.

Suddenly, Paimon gasped.

"Paimon!" The Traveler shouted in surprise. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"...They're back..." she whispered.

The Traveler tilted their head. "Who's back?"

Paimon was too stunned to speak, but it didn't take long for the Traveler to figure out why. Their eyes grew wide in shock.

"[Y/N]!!" They suddenly exclaimed as they bolted past everyone. Everyone quickly followed the Traveler outside.

Once they all gathered outside. They quickly turned their gaze towards Celestia. Just as they thought, a light, though less noticeable during the day, was slowly getting brighter.

"Sorry, Jean! We've got to go! Don't wanna be late!" Paimon quickly said before everyone aside from Jean was teleported away.

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"It sure is taking a long time to check for updates," you thought.

After countless research, note-taking, and several anxiety breakdowns, you were finally ready to hop back onto Genshin and meet up with the people who you now realize are alive and sentient.

"I hope all this makes a good impression on them."

The door appeared.

With one click, you would be back to where this trouble all started…

Breathe in… Breathe out…

click

The door opened.

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Author Side Notes: I looked at my fanfiction and decided that it needed LORE™

Once again, I'll be editing this chapter over the next upcoming days. I sort of prefer it as opposed to keeping this in my drafts. I don't want you all waiting for the next part too long!