#but you're welcome to talk about it otherwise if you'd like.
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...Well...
Nimona made me cry. Real actual tears.
(Spoilers. Spoilers, and emotions.)
I don't know how much I have the heart, clarity, or energy to tell about Why.
But that line... Two lines in that scene, actually.
(I can't rewatch it to transcribe the precise words because yt has that artificial slowdown on Firefox, I'm trying to capture this emotion, not wait an eternity for yt to load. So, may be paraphrasing, unsure of Exact Words.)
So, that part about... "Little kids. They grow up thinking they can become a hero if they kill something different."
And... "I don't know what's scarier. The fact that they want to run a sword through my heart... or the fact that, sometimes, I want to let them."
It's both personal reasons and topical. I think the personal reasons made me sensitive to the topical.
I grew up bullied and ostracized because I was different. To this day, I'm not entirely sure Why. Logically, I know it's all power dynamics, them not understanding, not wanting to understand. For some reason, people fear what they don't know. They fear what they can't put in a box. They fear those who disagree, who don't WANT to be put in the box.
I've never understood it. Maybe that's why, a month away from turning 31, these things still bring me to tears.
Maybe I don't actually have that fear because it's like Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, suffering made me human. Maybe I don't have that fear because there's something Weird in my brain chemistry, the same reason I'm not given to anxiety, the same reason I'm so eerily calm when the situation turns Genuinely Dire.
Maybe I just don't understand Them, either.
But what really breaks my heart, as an adult, is the fact that the elders TEACH this fear, this hatred, this ostracization. They teach children it's okay to be mean if you disagree. They teach children that The Others deserve to be hurt and broken and killed.
They teach children that what happened to Nex is okay.
This senseless fear and hatred hurts so many of us. Even if you weren't bullied as a kid, if your hair is too neon green, or if you wear pajama pants to Walmart, or if you love someone whose gender isn't perfectly heteronormative, they think you deserve to be executed.
For no other crime than being yourself.
I can bear my own suffering with grace and strength, but it SHATTERS me to see others so undeserving being criminalized and punished because people don't understand their choices, their actions, their way of love.
Transphobia. Homophobia. Skin color. Nationalism of all stripes. It's not just high school cliques, this stuff has real actual consequences that hurt real, living, breathing, dreaming people.
And then, when I realized, minutes before the reveal, that the little golden-haired girl in the flashback was probably Gloreth, I crumpled again. I desperately hoped I was wrong, but.... no.
It's not even the betrayal that hurt me. It was the reflection of all those children in the world who were told, "Yes, they deserve to be beaten because they're different."
We shouldn't be extinguishing compassion, and yet there are so many people in the world who will side with hatred and blind rage and fear and disgust and take the side of evil, because they understand fear. They don't understand gay love. And thus, gay love has to die.
Because they dared to be independent, to be unique, to be who they are: They all deserve to die alone.
So naturally, I broke again at the climax when he said, "I see you. And you are not alone."
That sentiment has never-- and probably WILL never-- be something I can submerge, make quiet, erase. How it saves lives. How it saved my life. How there are always people who are willing to see you, to be with you, to remind you that you are loved.
Even when everyone else in the world wants to sacrifice your life in the name of Their Ideals: You Are Loved.
That message is so goddamn fucking important.
And then... She was saved, and so she saved everyone else. That doesn't resonate with me emotionally, to the bullied little child deep in my core, but dear gods, does it speak to the power of compassion and what it can do to STAND UP AGAINST cruelty and bias!
So naturally, I cried again.
In closing, these quotes have better words than I right now:
"You think you're alone, Raven. But you're not." - Spellbound, a Teen Titans episode that made me cry twice for all the same reasons.
"Blind belief: are you afraid to see that our fathers were wrong?" - Evanescence. The song (Blind Belief) also calls to "Push through the pain, unbreak the system."
And as Delain wrote in a song called We Are the Others, inspired by the murder of a girl named Sophie whose death was caused by a beating inspired by her alternative fashion choices:
As simple as air in your lungs, as simple as words on your lips No one can take that away. No one should argue this! Now with our heads up high, we'll carry on, and carry out that we won't let them get us down, or wear us out, 'cuz we are not alone. We are the others, we are the cast-outs We're the outsiders, but you can't hide us! We are the others, black-eyed and battered You're not out there on your own! If you feel mistreated, torn and cheated: You are not alone! We are the others.
#rhs nimona#rhs movies#digital mirrorbooking#rhs personal posts#I'm making it un-rebloggable because I don't want to start discourse and I don't want this to be a post about Making A Public Statement^tm#but you're welcome to talk about it otherwise if you'd like.
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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Alright! Alright."
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please."
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
#monsterfucker#I'm thinking of making this mage character a recurring character where I basically write about her smutty monster adventures 👀👀👀#monster x human#monster fucker#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster x reader#monster writing#orc x reader#orc x human#nsft writing#terato#teratophillia#Mage! Reader
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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Bakugō Katsuki: Engineer
Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]
Summary: ~1.5k, fluff, a little violence.
• Being a talented inventor meant your skills were sought by many (both good and bad), but then you catch the attention of Dynamight.
Warnings: Cursing, violence, mention of weapons, post time skip.
>>>>——————————>
"You can't be serious Bakugō-san."
The pro snapped to his trusty assistant, raising an expectant brow when replying like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You said they're the best. That's who I want for my agency."
"Yes but—"
"But nothing! Do you know where I can find them?"
"Everyone who has tried has been refused. Their infamous talent has been sought by heroes, big companies, and even villainous characters... All of whom failed to hire them."
"’Cause I haven't asked yet."
"Bakugō-san, I know there's no convincing you otherwise but, I'd recommend having other options available at least."
True to his assistants' warnings, you were no easy recruit, all his efforts at communication were futile. Emails? Calls? Letters? You hadn't replied to any of his professional outreach methods and he suspected this was a common occurrence for you.
Fine then, he'd turn up the heat. Your workshop address wasn't a secret to those with connections and Bakugō wasn't one to give up without a fight. Literally, if need be.
———
It was a perplexing thing in the middle of nowhere, your workshop. A metal-like building heavily lined with obscure defensive weaponry as well as having access to your own personal scrapyard it seemed. But it was yours. A rumoured mechanical talent for crafting hero gear and inventions, one that drew attention from far and wide. However you were content in your independence, it was less hassle this way you'd hoped.
Alas, the confident banging on the metal entrance doors with conviction was far from unusual.
"I told ya, I don't—" You paused once sliding open the door and taking a look at your visitor, lifting your goggles and shifting to a smile. "Haven't seen you at my door before."
"Since ya didn't answer my calls or mail, I don't have a choice." The man seethed through gritted teeth, trying to be more 'accommodating' like advised.
"Oh? Which one are you again?" Your gaze flicked to a pile of (some charred) letters in a nearby bin, smile growing more smug by the second.
"Bakugō Katsuki. You might know me as Dynamight though."
"Yeah you're fun. I like you." You smirked proudly, honesty and bemusement present. "The way you yell at people resonates with me."
The man rolled his eyes with scoffing sound, choosing not to say anything rambunctious enough to have you slam the door in his face - still, he was surprised when you welcomed him in.
"Tch. S'pose you know why I'm here then."
"You, and many others. Had Lemillion here last month, least he bought me a welcome basket with cake and such." You joked, easing the caution the blonde seemed to be upholding around you with his natural personality showing.
"Tch, ain't gonna get you none of that crap unless you start working with me. I did bring something useful though because I'm better than the other extras you've dealt with." He held out a bag, one you quizzically explored to find a peculiar item to win one over with.
"A spanner...?"
It wasn't just a spanner, it was one of the newest, top of the grade, multi tool sets crafted by one of the big brands. Thoughtful. Very thoughtful actually...
"I appreciate it, but I can't accept something this expensive. Especially when I'm going to decline your offer."
"S'fine. It's a gift, but if you feel that guilty about it then you can fix my gauntlets." Bakugō justified rather abruptly, shoving the bag into your arms to ensure you took it.
"Alright. That sounds fair."
"I'll grab 'em from my car, get your shit ready."
That afternoon, you sat beside Katsuki as he talked you through the technicalities of his weaponry whilst you worked on them together. All the while diverting onto conversation tangents and making drinks mid way, he demonstrated his quirk - tiny sparkles of explosive lighting up his hand.
"They're pretty, your explosions."
"They’re deadly— I don't— shut up nerd!" He dismissed you briskly, turning away with an irritated growl.
———
Fixing his gear would be the first and last time you'd see Bakugō in person you assumed, considering you declined his job proposition and all.
So when you received another bout of rapid banging on metal the following week, you were surprised to find a smirking Dynamight rather than another recruiter.
"Shocked to see me or something?"
"Well I— yeah. Figured you'd take my refusal and go."
"Nah you did a good job with my gauntlets, wanted to see what else you're up to." Dynamight flexed his wrist for example, openly pleased with his gauntlets but seemed more so by your genuine reaction.
"Oh really?" You sounded truly perplexed, but also excited to share your work with someone. "Sure, I'll show you my latest ideas!"
Bakugō stayed a while, a couple of hours discussing applications for your inventions and inquiring as to whether there were any materials you were unable to obtain recently. Then it moved on to his occupation, his agency, and then to trivial matters such as popular restaurants around town.
“So, wanna join my agency yet?” The blonde threw over his shoulder on his way out of the door.
“No Dynamight, but thank you for asking and visiting.”
“Fine nerd. I’ll be back then.”
Now you didn’t believe that for a second when he slammed the door behind him, and you felt like he’d only asked for the sake of it - fully expecting you to say no. However, if he did decide to visit again, you wouldn’t be mad about it you concluded.
———
Unfortunately, your next set of individuals weren’t so welcomed. You’d seen them multiple times previously, each visit coming with its increase of pressure to work exclusively for them. A dealer who specialised in exporting weaponry to villains on the black market, they had both the money and power to pose either a threat or a reward. Except, your constant refusals had only fuelled their growing impatience which led them crashing down your door tonight with violence in their wake.
"C'mon (L/n), I came here personally just to hire you. We'll certainly pay you well enough~" The dealer slammed you into the wall, digits digging so deeply into your neck you barely managed a disgruntled wretch.
"I'll neve— ever work— for you assholes!"
"Too bad, the consequence for that is death y’know." You were slung across the floor, a gasp for breath futile when he aimed his pistol at your heart. "Want to reconsider yet?"
"Fuck you."
The gun safety clicked off, one of the henchman's quirks keeping you painfully immobile. If these were your final moments you were furious you hadn't completed your latest invention, maybe a little irritated you hadn't hit the code red before you were taken over by a damn quirk. You avoided pledging alliances to avoid this bullshit! You didn't work for any competitors, you weren't in the line of fire for sharing information, but now you can't even refuse work without getting caught in a crime web?! Society and talent is a sh—
Then an ear splitting bang echoed in the facility, dust clouds and debris forcing through the room like a tidal wave, leaving two intruders knocked out and the remainder covering their faces and yelling confused curses. That's when you saw sparks of light, a familiar explosion you had the privilege of seeing in person only once before.
He came back.
"That's why they call me Great Explosion Murder God!" He grinned menacingly, teeth bared like a predator with a dangerous glint in those crimson eyes. Sparks and smoke danced around him, the hero lowering both his stance and voice when he spoke what sounded like a protective threat.
"Now get away from my agency's' new engineer."
Oddly you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you'd narrowed that down to the whole situation being an absolute bombshell. You watched as Dynamight immobilised them effortlessly, the quirk being lifted allowing you to utilise your inventions - mechanised laser snipers pointed at the foreheads of your unwanted company, all programmed to fire with a snap of your fingers.
"Couldn't have done that sooner nerd?" The hero shot back to you tauntingly, but you didn’t miss how his gaze flared up at the sight of bruising on your neck when he’d scanned you for injury.
"Then you'd be out of a job, hero."
It took no longer than ten minutes for the authorities to arrive, during that time Dynamight had retrieved any information he’d wanted. As well as issuing basic first aid to you contrastingly softly in comparison to the deathly interrogation the dealer experienced.
You’d be taken to hospital for a check of course, (Bakugō personally walking you to your escort since he couldn’t drive you himself right now) but before you bid farewell you had a burning question.
"When can I start?"
"Hah?" Came his classic recall, snapping to you with a look of angry curiosity.
"You called me your engineer, I was wondering when that begins." Your voice was quieter now, but upon realising Katsuki seemed a little embarrassed with hand rubbing his neck and honest answer spilled.
"It's your choice, but I figured saying that would get others off your back when word gets around. You'd be left in peace for a while to continue your work."
"And if I want to work with you, when would you want me at the agency?
"All the time." Just as quickly as he spoke, he realised his lack of hesitance, awkwardly huffing and rephrasing all in one. "I'll send over a contract, you can move stuff into the lab if you like the terms."
"Then I look forward to working with you, boss." Gladly, you held out your hand to him, pleased smirk plastered on your features.
"Call me Katsuki." He shook your hand, victorious grin in play. "And the pleasure’s all mine."
<——————————<<<<
[ Masterlist ]
#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#anime x reader#anime imagine#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#bnha imagine#bnha scenarios#bnha#katsuki bakugo mha#mha x reader#mha imagines#boku no hero imagines#boku no hero academia#boku no hero x reader
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♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡
Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡
Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.
Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)
A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).
Masterlist || Spotify Playlist
Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence.
“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried.
“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly.
“But I'm not a woman.”
“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again.
“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.”
“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter.
It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.
The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down.
Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again.
“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter.
“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise.
“And your name is?”
“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.”
You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body.
“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?”
Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up.
With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub.
He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason.
“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest.
“Good observation, Spencer.”
“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head.
“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor.
His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again.
Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him.
A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that.
When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours.
You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election.
You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace.
“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.”
Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you.
He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together.
You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet.
So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway.
“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him.
“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin.
He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him.
“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-”
“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?”
His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape.
“I-I'm not a student, and-”
“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.”
His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist.
His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex.
Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you, desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you.
Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper.
He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him.
His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley.
“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?”
“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him.
“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.”
His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin.
You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched.
You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him.
He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust.
You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin.��
“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock.
“Did it hurt?”
“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.”
He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving.
He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for.
With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to.
“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him.
“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure.
“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.”
“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier.
He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you.
You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there.
You weren't.
“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?”
You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today.
There was always tomorrow.
He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed.
“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder.
He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there.
Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up.
He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.
“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.”
You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words.
The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs.
It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.
“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?”
He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely.
Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened.
“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.
“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs.
He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head.
Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch.
“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out.
“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug.
“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.”
“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer.
“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.”
You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him.
“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.”
The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal.
Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake.
“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.”
He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts.
“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?”
“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be.
“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?”
Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there.
“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?”
His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct.
You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer.
“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again.
His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning.
“You knew the entire time? Who I was?”
“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”
“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.”
You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest.
“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled.
“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.”
He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again.
“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his.
“Y/N, please let's be sensible.”
“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?”
“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans.
“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.”
His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit.
“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut.
He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly.
“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.”
He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him.
“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?”
“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue.
“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?”
He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them.
“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper.
“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth.
“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.”
But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry.
“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again.
This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock.
You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock.
It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so.
“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time.
Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair.
“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.”
His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x y/n
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eternal sunshine ── itoshi rin
w.c. 841 content: itoshi rin x fem reader, post-break up angst
༘⋆📼˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
are you okay?
he keeps asking. that same question appears in your messages a few times a day, a few times too many. it's nice to know he cares, a little bit in the slightest at least, but it doesn't help with the raw aching in the center of your chest— where all of the affection you hold for rin is struggling to find a place in your body to settle. it's pulling at your skin and tugging your limbs, urging your fingers to type the infamous 'i miss you' that lives in the delusion your heart wants to come true.
but you do miss him.
you really miss him.
you want to move on, but you can't. you can't seem to push past the denial that you aren't together anymore. you broke up. he broke up with you. you aren't a couple. you aren't his girlfriend. you aren't the love of his life. rin will forget about you. he'll forget you. you don't matter.
you're nothing and he's everything.
he holds so much real estate in your chest that you find yourself starting the car, backing onto the street, and heading towards the home you once shared. will you regret this? probably. do you even care anymore? no.
so, when you raise your hand before the door, there's no hesitation, no anxiety seeping from your fingertips— just heavy grief that hasn't been processed yet. grief that you're begging to receive closure for; and you're one step closer to that gift when the handle turns, and you're face-to-face with the man who broke your heart.
his eyes look heavy. there isn't an ounce of surprise in them. it's almost as if he was expecting you...
...god, you're so predictable. you're so pathetic and desperate that he knew you'd cave and come. why can't you be strong like him? why can't you move on?
"i can't let you in." rin murmurs. his statement is firm and his body doesn't budge. "this isn't healthy, baby."
in spite of his words, he cups your face. the feeling of his palms is familiar. a touch that your dreams welcome when you can't find sleep, and yearn for the comfort you once shared. his blue gaze has love hidden behind those steely irises. you know it. there has to be some love left in there for you. you can't have just vanished from his heart. that's what you choose to believe— a perfect example of how you convince yourself to stay stranded in denial despite knowing otherwise.
"let's talk," you beg, "one last time."
"what's left to say?" his voice cracks and rin's strength wavers for a moment. "i can't do this. i'm not cut out for this. i don't have time for a relationship; i've already said all of this, please don't make me say it again."
you can tell he's on the verge of tears, lip quivering and eyebrows furrowed, rin pulls you closer. his hands magnetically find your body and he embraces you in a tight hug. it's selfish. he's leading you on once more and giving you false hope that maybe, this time, the conversation will end differently. he longs for the comfort you bring him, but won't provide that same favor when you ask for it.
it's too much to handle alone. you're tired.
this needs to stop.
"i've just been thinking so much lately." you begin, trying to find some courage. any courage. anything to help. "and i've realized that i put so much into this. i put my all into you. i gave you everything, and i'm not— i'm just not—"
"not what?"
a sigh escapes you.
"i'm not enough to convince you to stay."
rin's arms tighten. "you're perfect. you are. i'm the one who's not enough for you. believe me—"
"how can i?" you interrupt. "if i was perfect, you'd try harder. you'd want to keep me around so we can help each other be better. i hate who i'm becoming without you. i have no one to care for. i have all of these feelings and i don't know where to put them because they just want to feel for you. i'm running around in circles trying to process everything that happened because it was so abrupt, but i just can't do it— i want you. all i want is you. i don't know who i am anymore. rin please. you can still change your mind. i'm begging. i've begged so many times. let this work, just once. i love you."
his lips are on yours in a split second, deeply kissing you to end your mindless ramble, and his plan works. he shuts you up.
he ends the conversation, once again, with a kiss; never giving a real answer to your questions. never giving a solution to the dilemma. rin just restarts the cycle of manipulation that he doesn't even realize he's doing. you can't let each other go. your efforts will always fail. you'll be stuck in this loop forever. lonely, yet loving him.
#i’ve rebranded#new spotify banner#rin x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#rin x you#itoshi rin x you#rin itoshi x you#rin angst#itoshi rin angst#rin itoshi angst#rin fanfiction#itoshi rin fanfiction#rin itoshi fanfiction#itoshi rin fanfic#rin itoshi fanfic#rin fanfic#itoshi rin ff#rin itoshi ff#rin ff#bllk x you#bllk x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock ff
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How much do you think it takes to fluster the husband rotation???
it doesn't take much?? not most people's definition of 'much', at least.
for chrollo, overhearing you talk about him (whether it be on the phone or you haven't noticed him standing there yet) gives him pause. it's in instances like these that people reveal their true colors. he's confident in his ability to read you, sure, but hearing your unfiltered thoughts out loud? that's an opportunity he'd kill for. metaphorically and literally. he waits with bated breath, almost embarrassed by his anticipation. you'd think he was a school girl eavesdropping on her crush. and when he hears you not only call him handsome, but emphasize just how much you enjoy your discussions with him? those very discussions that he cherishes dearly? he smiles without realizing it. faced with death, his heart remains steady. faced with anything related to you, it can't slow down.
gojo is, to the surprise of no one, kinda weird. you could huskily whisper the naughtiest line into his ear — he'd just grin and flirt back. he gets so caught up in outdoing you that he forgets to feel embarrassed. want to leave him speechless and knock the air from his lungs? it's surprisingly simple. steal one of his shirts, wear it as your PJs, then doze off waiting for him to return home. he secretly feels bad that his work hours are so erratic. he'll tell you not to stay up for him, but that doesn't mean he isn't touched when you try. the idea of you sitting there, fighting to stay awake because you want to spend time with him? cupid's arrow couldn't compare to the emotions that makes him experience. this, along with the added bonus of his too large shirt engulfing your form does him in. gojo takes enough pictures to necessitate buying additional cloud storage.
for scaramouche..................... just be nice to him without ulterior motives. that's it. no, really. he can't comprehend kindness. he understands transactions, where anything done for the sake of another is still ultimately for one's own benefit. this cynicism has helped him navigate fatui politics yet impedes any personal growth. brew him his favorite bitter tea, organize his belongings, gift him a homemade trinket; he'll flitter through multiple emotions. suspicion, confusion, then, finally, this warm sensation in his supposedly hollow chest that he can't find a word for. this little act haunts him. he can't stop obsessing over it. he wants to find proof that you're like every other wretched, self-serving creature in this world — (or does he?) — but his investigation proves unsuccessful. confronted by this undeniable reality, he's left to wrestle with the implications. you're genuinely thoughtful (ew) and most egregious of all, he likes it (ew x2). this is going to be his undoing, isn't it...?
blade is similarly simple. you needn't jump through hoops of fire to get his obstinate heart pounding. as for what does him in most effectively — your greetings. it's why he shows up unannounced. you'll freeze, giving him a once over, eyebrows cutely scrunching together as your brain puts two and two together. then stars twinkle in your eyes. you glow with the radiance of a thousand suns, running at him, your arms outstretched and legs keen on jumping. he catches you with ease. he's grateful that your face is buried into his chest. otherwise, you'd spot how the tip of his ears go red. what has he ever done to deserve such an enthusiastic welcome? nothing, as far as he's concerned. he doesn't deserve it, doesn't deserve you, yet here you are, excitedly rambling in his arms over his return. he'll say he just happened to be in the star system and decided to stop by. don't believe him. he traveled across the universe for you.
#crying irl..............#they need help so bad#i could fix them (except for gojo he's beyond my abilities)#chrollo x reader#scaramouche x reader#gojo x reader#blade x reader#chrollo brainrot#gojo brainrot#scaramouche brainrot#blade brainrot#concepts#answered#Anonymous
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Genshin Mens with an S/o that always so happy and bubbly from the outside/public but at home they are actually tired and secretly crying in the bathroom while the shower is on so hoping that They wont hear the reader crying
I have been waiting to write this oh my gosh!! Love this idea, but just in case you're feeling like the reader, know it's okay to cry and if you ever need to talk to someone you're welcome to talk to me and I'll do the best I can to comfort you <3
─⊰⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~All alone~༺}
CW: Angsty: Hidden emotions, crying, depression, some slight yelling in Xiaos and worried characters! Modern AU! (Pet names: Lyney: My love, Zhongli: Darling, Xiao: Flower, Kazuha: Honey, Neuvillette: Mon amour)
(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Xiao, and Kazuha!)
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𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyneys knuckles gently tapped against the wooden door of the bathroom, his voice sweet and filled with love "Mon amour, you alright? You've been in the shower awhile" ...although if you listened closely, you could hear the undertone of worries in his words. No matter how well you hid it in public, he could always sense you were off, he knew when smiles were genuine and yours rarely was anymore and no amount hiding in the bathroom could make your pain less noticeable to him.
Meanwhile you were on the other side of the door, knees pulled close to your chest and tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to breath in the mist filled room, the sound of the shower drowning out your soft sobs to the best of its abilities. You sniffled, trying to make your voice sound normal despite the emotions that were tugging at your throat, "Yeah honey! I'm fine! Just wanted to pamper myself a little!"
The magician sighed, slowly sinking to the floor... he wished so desperately you'd just let him in, let him lighten the burdens you were carrying, " Mon amour...I know that's not true. Please, let's talk.." You could barely hear him over your own mind screaming at you...worries and images of your issues dragging him down with you, drowning any ideas of actually accepting his offer to the bottom of your heart.
"I'm fine."
𑁍༄Zhongli:
You laughed out loud, others laughing along with you like everything was absolutely perfect...while Zhonglis yellow eyes saw otherwise, his gaze never leaving your sweet face. He could see it in your eyes, the way your laughter no longer sounded the same....the way you held yourself differently when others were around compare to when you were home alone with him. He just didn't understand why you weren't talking with him...why you were hiding your feelings.
Of course he wouldn't pressure you, he'd do his best to encourage you to lean on him...rest when you looked tired, do his best to show you how much he loved you, but it didn't seem to stop. You'd still disappear into the bathroom, shower running while he paced back and forth outside the door, wishing he knew more about human emotions, wishing he could just do...something.
"Darling, I'm here if you need me...I love you."
"Just taking a shower!....love you too!"
𑁍༄Xiao:
Xiao was panicking, all his life he'd never found love till he met you and now you were hurting in a way he didn't know how to solve. He thought you were happy, smiling and laughing like usual...but overtime he would notice that something had changed. You no longer laughed till you cried anymore and even when you seemed at your highest...you still had dark bags under your eyes, sadness clinging to your words.
Now he'd caught you crying behind a closed door, sobs barely audible over the sound of the shower running and breathing messy...uneven, you sounded like your heart was shattering. He couldn't stand hearing you sound so broken, standing there doing nothing to help you when one of the things he loved most was protecting you, so he teleported into the room..hoping you'd forgive the intrusion.
He was shocked at first, to see you curled up by the door crying, barely able to breath as you rocked back and fourth...he wanted to run to you, pull you into a tight hug, tell you he'd make it all okay if you asked, but he didn't want to startle you and make the situation worse, "Flower...I'm here...can I help?"
"Xiao?!? What a-are you doing in here!? G-get out!"
"I'm worried about you, you're hiding your emotions and pretending like your okay when you aren't...I just want to help you."
"You're not one t-to talk! You hide what you're f-feeling all the time! Just leave me alone!!"
"No, I'm not leaving here until I figure out what's going on. I haven't waited thousands of years to find love and let it slip away because I didn't offer comfort when I should have!"
You covered your ears and opened the door, "THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE WAITED L-LONGER!"
𑁍༄Kazuha:
Kazuha sighed, humming against the doorframe while he thought of your wonderful smile that always made his heart race...and your bubbly personality that contrasted so well with his calm collected one, but lately things hadn't had the same magical loving feeling they used to, even his poems barely made a glint in your eyes, you just seemed so put out. Even after sleeping, when he'd try to hold you close and make sure you rested comfortably in the morning, you'd almost instantly pull away...leave to take a shower.
"Hey honey, you doing okay in there? I don't want to bother you...I've just noticed you seemed to be feeling down more often. I guess I just...worry about you. I love you and I want to make sure you're happy..." The shower flicked off as he finished his sentence and for a split second he had hope you would talk with him, but when the door opened, you stood in front of him wrapped in a towel...eyes red and puffy, and that same fake daunting smile on your lips.
"Kazuha honey, what're you doing outside of the door? Were you talking to me? I didn't hear anything..."
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◥(•̀₩•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*.✧
#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin#genshin fanfic#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin scenarios#genshin x you#lyney x reader#lyney headcanons#lyney x you#lyney angst#lyney genshin#zhongli angst#zhongli headcanons#zhongli x reader#zhongli x you#zhongli genshin impact#xiao angst#xiao x reader#xiao x you#xiao headcanons#xiao genshin impact#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kazuha angst#kazuha headcanons#kazuha genshin impact
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Watching goyische anti-Zionists complain about the lack of Palestinian and/or ProPal speakers at the latest DNC has me thinking: what did you actually expect?
Separate yourself from the movement for a moment and think about the rhetoric and how it is perceived. Would it have been welcome? Would people actually accept your messaging? Would people accept the radical maximalist messaging that is prevalent? Clearly not.
Biden acknowledged that the protesters do have a point, and that point is civilians are dying and suffering and they shouldn't be. We all agree on that. But the other stuff? Yeah, you'd be hard pressed to convince the DNC to allow antisemitic rhetoric up on their stage.
Everyone knows the rhetoric and talking points for what they are. It doesn't matter how many times you say "it's anti-Zionism, not antisemitism", the actual content of the statements and the actions say otherwise. Denial of hatred and bigotry only suits to convince you, the speaker, that you're not actually a bigot. The rest of us see it for what it is. At best they would have had Tlaib up there giving a speech, and it still would have been filled with antisemitic dog whistles disguised as "anti-Zionism".
Worst case, they have some big name activist like Nerdeen Kiswani who just goes mask off "Death to America, Death to Israel, Death to Jews" on stage. Neither one of those would have worked out well.
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this town’s for the record now
Jenna Ortega x Reader
Summary: Distance is a strange concept. Jenna feels no closer to you now than when you actually were on opposite sides of the world. If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.
Requested by @thenextdawn
A/N: Tweaked the idea just a slight bit but I hope you like it, sweetheart. I wrote half of this very much sleep deprived so if anything is weird blame it on that, also take some technical things here with a grain of salt because I know very little about how shooting movies/series works. Much love babes. <3
Word count: 5k (this got out of hand pretty fast)
Masterlist
The airport was bustling with people. Some arriving, tiredness clouding their features along with happiness as they were welcomed by loved ones; others speeding down the halls, suitcases in hand as they rushed to not miss their flights.
Jenna, though her flight was about to leave, was stalling. Her gaze skimmed over the crowd around. Her hands tightly held onto yours, as if you'd disappear if she loosened her grip.
And she wasn't too far off.
You brushed your thumb over the skin on her hand, trying to convey some sense of calmness, "I think it's time for you to go, otherwise the plane will leave without you."
Jenna grinned half-heartedly, swinging your joined hands around as she leaned her head on the wall to her right. "Would it be too bad if I let that happen?"
It was your little moment of peace. This corner of the airport suddenly became your fleeting safe haven for a precious second.
"I think," you started, pulling her towards you so you could wrap her in a hug, "some people would be very mad at you if you missed this flight."
Jenna encircled her arms around your waist, closing her eyes as she nuzzled her face on your shoulder, "I'd be with you though," she mumbled, words muffled against you.
Pulling back so you could look at her, you took hold of her hands again.
Honestly, you were striving to keep a strong facade on, to be the support you knew she needed. But deep down, you were holding back your own tears.
"It'll go by quickly, you'll see."
"It's eight months," Jenna sighed, "all the way on Romania. I'm excited about it, but, I never stayed away this long."
The 'we never stayed apart this long' went unsaid.
And it was true. It made you think for a moment that, to the naked eye, you two could easily be seen as a couple delaying their inevitable goodbye. That wasn't the case though, there wasn't a label to what you and Jenna were. Not yet. And it would have to wait until she came back.
"You'll be alright, I know you will," you encouraged, "you're gonna nail this role. You'll be the best Wednesday this world has ever seen," you smiled proudly, not an ounce of doubt in your words.
It got Jenna chuckling, all teary-eyed and flushed cheeks. "You'll text me every day, right? Call too?"
"Of course I will, I already miss you," you pouted.
She squeezed your hands, "promise?"
"Promise."
—
For those eight months, you kept your promise.
Every day you texted, called, and sometimes video-chatted with Jenna; checking up on her, lifting her mood, or simply talking.
You missed her more than you ever missed anyone in your life, and you could tell she felt the same. But for a while, it was bearable, because you talked every day.
Until Jenna started breaking the pattern.
It started slow, but steady. One unanswered text here, one missed call there, and suddenly you went two or three days without talking to each other.
It was comprehensible, Jenna was working after all. So you didn't think anything of it when the new normal became calling each other every four or five days.
But when those days spaced out, you counted yourself lucky if you heard from her at least once a week, and then every two weeks — her responses short and to the point.
Yet you kept sending her texts; simple 'good mornings' and 'hope you have an awesome day on set'. Because you promised you would, she asked you to.
Even if, involuntarily, you started to feel like a bit of a nuisance to her when she answered you with a plain 'u too' every now and then.
It happened slowly; Jenna became a stranger. A stranger you still loved greatly.
—
Hey Jen, how have you been? I just wanted to let you know that I got the role for that movie I texted you about a few weeks ago. So yeah, I'm very excited. Hope everything is well, I really miss you.
You stared at the message on your phone, your finger hesitating to tap the send button. You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to get rid of the nerves.
Sometimes it hurts, because it wasn't like this — though that reality feels very far away now.
The filming process for Wednesday wrapped almost three months ago. You knew that because right before she left Romania, Jenna had called you, and for a lovely moment, things felt okay; you could hear the tears in her voice when she told you how much she missed you, apologizing over and over for not keeping in touch and saying how much she couldn't wait to be back, promising to come see you soon.
But that never happened.
You haven't seen Jenna ever since you said goodbye to her at the airport, ten months ago.
You guessed that's what distance does to people.
Yet, the stubborn part of you still texts her sometimes, because when you close your eyes all you can see is that teary-eyed Jenna who made you swear to always keep in touch with her. So you do. You tell her about your little bits of progress in the acting career, about some roles you manage to get, and if you're lucky, you'll get a response with 'congratulations'.
As of today, you haven't heard from her in two months. And if you cried about it a few nights ago, that's no one's business.
You understand she's busy, you see it in her on every interview that you watch — because you know her, you know the way her posture changes when she's getting tired, you know her mannerisms when she's nervous, you know when her smile is not the brightest it can be — but you think that, if she felt for you as much as you feel for her, she'd try to keep in touch. She would come to see you.
You pressed send on the message and put your phone back in your pocket the very next second.
Sad as it may seem, you didn't expect an answer.
—
"Hey, wait up."
You looked back over your shoulder, only to see your cast mate jogging up to you in the parking lot, big smile on his face.
"Something wrong?" You asked, adjusting your backpack over your shoulder.
"No, not at all," he told you as he caught his breath, one hand coming to rest on your shoulder, "I just wanted to say, you did really good in there."
You averted your gaze when you felt your cheeks warming up, getting compliments from people infinitely more talented and popular than you would always feel surreal.
"I mean it," he ducked down, searching for your eyes, "that was one of the best monologues I've witnessed in a while."
"Thank you," you chuckled nervously, "it means a lot coming from you."
He waved off your words as if telling you, yet again, to stop putting him on a pedestal. "That being said, I've been meaning to ask if you'd be willing to audition for my next movie."
To say your eyes widened in surprise was an understatement, you asked him to repeat himself and he did; grinning fondly, telling you all about the natural talent you have and how he couldn't forgive himself if he allowed it to go to waste.
You, of course, agreed promptly. And squealed like a schoolgirl once he was out of earshot.
Before you got into your car, you took your cell phone from your backpack, still bubbling with excitement as the offer didn't quite feel real yet.
For a fleeting second, the sight of your last unanswered text when you opened the conversation didn't make your heart clench in pain.
Jenna, you won't believe what just happened…
—
The production of a movie of this caliber wasn't like anything you'd done before; there were so many things going on all at once, so many more people involved, so much more work for you — comes with the territory when playing the main character, you knew that, but still, it was all somewhat new for you.
By the end of most weeks, you were absolutely exhausted.
You pushed open the door of your trailer with a groan, rubbing your temple to try and chase away the beginnings of a headache.
The only lights you turned on were the ones in your little kitchen area, keeping the place dimly lit so it was easier on your tired eyes.
Not bothering to change out of your work clothes for now, you threw yourself on the couch, letting out a sigh of relief when you felt your muscles relax.
Maybe it was the late hour and the vulnerability of your worn-out body; but most nights after a busy day, you found your mind drifting to memories that involved a certain someone. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could pretend to be back there — your shoulder pressed snuggly against hers as she told you all about her day on set, her fingers sneaking to intertwine with yours, the weight of her head when she'd inevitably succumb to sleep against you — memories exist outside of time anyway.
When the screen of your phone lit up, you swore you could almost feel your heartbeat stumbling. You picked it up so fast that it almost fell on your face.
Jenna's name was on your screen, and you hated the way that it brought tears to your eyes.
You hesitated when opening the text, not daring to breathe or get your hopes up.
'That's exciting' was her response to your rather long list of unanswered texts, the last one being the one of you talking about the new movie you're working on.
No 'how are you', no 'I miss you'.
You closed your eyes and felt a tear running down your cheek, typing back the one thing you felt;
Sometimes I wish I had let that plane leave without you.
—
The movie you starred in ended up being the push you needed to be recognized. It was a success, and you were the reason why.
It premiered only a few weeks after Wednesday did. Jenna became known worldwide, and you sort of did too.
And that's what it took for you to finally see each other again.
If someone told you a year ago that you'd be attending the Golden Globes, you'd call them crazy. Yet here you are; timidly smiling as a billion cameras flash in front of your eyes.
And in the midst of greeting acquaintances, posing for pictures, and talking to reporters, your eyes caught sight of her.
She was nothing short of divine, soft pinkish-brown dress fitting her to perfection and her hair way shorter than when you'd last seen her. You didn't think Jenna could ever be more beautiful, but she's apparently always proving you wrong.
It felt like a gravity pull on your heart, urging you to walk closer to her, and if you ditched a reporter or two along the way, you couldn't care less. Your stomach was twirling in apprehension, it shouldn't be but it is, because sad as it feels, you don't know what you mean to each other anymore.
Jenna had her back to you as she spoke with someone you didn't know. You could feel your hands slick with perspiration when you cleared your throat a little awkwardly. She probably didn't hear, so you resorted to lightly tapping her shoulder.
It felt like seeing her for the first time in your life at the same time that it felt like you never parted ways at all. Though there was this painful squeezing in your chest that's never been there before. You smiled softly, breathing out a simple; "hi."
Jenna's eyes widened the slightest bit when she saw you, her lips hanging open when she had trouble forming words; it was a one-second thing, she was quick to recover and get her features back to impassive. Something you knew all too well was a bad habit of hers — suppressing what she's feeling.
"Hi, I- I had no idea you'd be coming," she told you, her eyes unable to find a place to focus on your face.
You pursed your lips, acutely aware of the cameras on every corner of the place. "Yeah, I tried to tell you but, you must've missed my text." The words felt heavy on your tongue, your smile didn't quite reach your eyes.
"I didn't mean-" Jenna's voice broke halfway through and she clamped her mouth shut to avoid a making scene.
It got you looking up to meet her gaze, and there were so many emotions swimming in her eyes that you couldn't put your finger on any of them.
Before you or she could say anything else, a reporter was calling out for Jenna, drawing both of your attention.
Jenna glanced between you and the reporter, before adjusting her posture and managing a smile. "I'll see you later, okay?" She told you, already turning away from you.
"No, Jenna wait, can't we talk?" You tried reaching out for her hand but she pulled away.
"Not right now."
"I just wanted to-"
She glanced back at you, taking hold of her dress in a white-knuckled grip to pull it up so she could walk faster; "I can't deal with you right now, okay? Please stop… crowding me."
Her voice had little emotion to it, but it froze you in place nonetheless. You figured a knife to the heart might hurt less.
Jenna walked away from you, smiling and waving to the cameras whilst you strived to not make the headlines as the actress who cried at the Golden Globes for apparently no reason.
So you were right in the end, she saw you as nothing but a nuisance.
—
There was a team waiting to help her get rid of the makeup and glam if she so wanted, but Jenna sent them away.
After such an event, there was nothing she desired more than peace.
Jenna's steps were slow and dragged as she made her way inside her hotel room, still holding onto her long dress, though with much less care than she did in front of the cameras. Part of it is always an act.
She ran a hand through her hair, messing up the previously perfectly styled waves with a sigh.
The shower had been long awaited and she almost napped on the bathtub; not really bothering to meticulously clean up the makeup, leaving a few smudges of eyeshadow here and there — that could be a problem for tomorrow.
And there was nothing more blissful than putting on sweatpants and an oversized shirt.
Her life has been nothing short of hectic ever since starting the filming for Wednesday, so Jenna enjoyed 200% every little time to relax that she had. Though today, she was restless, something had a tight hold on her chest and she couldn't pinpoint what.
She tossed and turned on her bed, unable to sleep even if she was exhausted and she wasn't sure why insomnia decided to kick in now.
That is, until she took her cell phone and a few clips of the event started popping up on the internet, and she caught sight of a picture where, in the background, she could be seen talking with you.
Oh.
That's where this hollowness is coming from.
The bedroom was quiet, the only things she could hear if she strained her ears were the cars way down on the road outside and the faint drizzle that started falling.
It was so quiet, so calm, that for the first time, Jenna felt it. She felt the weight of the past months downing on her.
Jenna had been running on autopilot, so much so, that she became numb to a few of her own emotions. And maybe a few people too.
There was a sudden lump in her throat. Jenna sat up quickly on her bed, clawing at her chest because she couldn't breathe. She mumbled curses under her breath, vision instantly getting blurred as tears collected on the bottom lid of her eyes.
If this wasn't a panic attack, it was something very close to it.
Jenna scrambled for her phone and hastily typed your number on it, shaky fingers bringing the device to her ears.
She held onto her breath when the line started ringing; and when it rang for the last time, she was already sobbing.
"No, no, no," she stumbled out, trying again, "please pick up, please," the pleas fell out of her mouth with broken syllables.
Distantly, she knew she had it coming, she hadn't been fair with you, or with herself. You were Jenna's weakest point, if she had allowed herself to miss you, she'd drop everything to go back. So she bottled up the feeling.
But sooner or later, it would surface, and it hurts more than she thought it would — because maybe her decision had cost her you.
Jenna wrapped her arms around herself, with tears trickling down her cheeks and dripping from her chin — she felt alone, so excruciatingly alone.
Jenna didn't sleep that night.
—
For the months that followed, Jenna tried calling you multiple times.
You never answered.
—
It didn't take long for Wednesday to be renewed for season two. It also didn't take long for filming to start.
Jenna saw herself going back to staying in a foreign country for months in what felt like no time at all. But this time around she knew what to expect, how to prepare herself for it.
Or that's what she had hoped, because when she stepped foot on set, she was greeted with the sight of none other than you. You who was animatedly talking with Emma as you held a few papers in your hands; a script, Jenna presumed. A script that had Wednesday written on its cover.
Jenna halted on her steps immediately, sneakers scratching against the floor; the grip she had on her backpack tightening significantly. No amount of internal pep talks could ever prepare her for this.
Next thing she knew, Emma had caught sight of her and was walking in her direction with you hot on her tail. Jenna felt like curling into a ball to try and disappear — not because she didn't want to see you, but because of what she did last time it happened. Part of her knows she won't be able to face your rejection without breaking.
"Jenna, you're finally here," Emma pulled her friend into a hug. Jenna held her back promptly, grateful to have something to momentarily hold on to.
"Yeah," she breathed, "it was a- a long flight." She couldn't help the way her eyes darted to you. And you were so… blank, emotionless.
"Have you met our new cast member? This is Y/n." Emma happily gestured to you, taking a step back so Jenna could properly see you.
There was a heaviness in the air, more than a year's worth of bottled-up feelings just hanging on by a thin thread. Jenna gulped back the lump forming in her throat. It was longing and hurt and guilt altogether.
She had never felt this. Missing someone to the point of feeling like your chest is being ripped open, as if they're on the other side of the world even if, in reality, they're right in front of you — just a few inches forward and she'd touch you. Yet it feels impossible.
"Hi," was all Jenna could utter.
You nodded once, with a clenched jaw and crossed arms, "hi Jenna."
—
You were avoiding her.
And it was nothing short of torture.
You were avoiding Jenna, as much as two people who work together can avoid each other, but still, you were doing a terrific job. Jenna only caught glimpses of you when it was absolutely necessary.
She had this hole in her chest; it made her restless and anxious. It's been only a week and Jenna already feels like she can't take it anymore. She knows it's affecting her work; she's not able to focus the way she did before, she finds herself zoning out whilst looking at doorways and waiting for you to walk in — most of the time you never do.
Right now, Jenna is sitting in front of a mirror as she gets her hair done for the day. She arrived a little late today, her sleepless nights finally catching up to her right on a Tuesday morning.
The distant smell of hair spray still hung in the air, the bright lights around the mirror still hurt her sleepy eyes so she keeps them closed, enjoying the feeling of the hairdresser doing her braids. She paid no mind when she heard the door opening or when the chair beside hers creaked. Only opening her eyes when your voice greeted the other people in the room.
Jenna didn't dare breathe. She looked at you through the mirror, your gazes meeting for half a second before you averted yours.
Was it too bad that she already kinda felt like crying?
There was this painful tug on her heart whenever Jenna did see you. It felt like remembering all of your good memories all at once — and they mocked her, told her she'd never have anything like it again.
Distance is a strange concept. She feels no closer to you now than when you actually were on opposite sides of the world.
If she missed you any harder, her heart might leap out of her chest and right into your hands.
You're looking everywhere except at her. It's almost bittersweet that Jenna can tell exactly just how nervous you are. Fidgeting on your seat, tapping your knee.
For a moment she wants to reach out and hold your hand, it used to calm you down, ground you.
She doesn't. Instead, she asks; "have you been enjoying the filming so far?" The words tasted strange on her tongue. Like they're all wrong and it's not what she should be saying to you when there's a ten-foot wall between you and her.
You hesitated, as if wondering if she was really talking to you. "Uh yeah, it's been a great experience so far," you said eventually, choosing to glance up at her through the mirror instead of turning your head to actually meet her gaze.
Jenna smiled, just a soft tilt of her lips.
Every minute that you weren't hers was a minute of pure agony.
And it was hardly the proper place for it, but with not knowing when she'd have the opportunity to speak with you again, Jenna took in a deep breath, and tried; "look, I- I've been meaning to apologi-"
"Not now, Jenna," you cut her off pretty quickly, drawing the attention of the few hairdressers around you. You cleared your throat; "we can talk about this later."
—
Ultimately, there was no 'later'. Jenna couldn't get a moment alone with you after that, and you made no effort either.
But when you love someone enough, you tend to make a few reckless decisions.
Jenna was staying in the same hotel as you, just a few doors away from yours, and she was a good actress.
It was late at night when you unlocked the door of your hotel room. You turned on the lights and instantly jumped back, almost tripping on your own feet; your soul leaving your body for a second.
"What the hell," you mumbled, with a hand over your erratic heart.
Jenna raised her hands and took a step back, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just me."
"How-" you gestured towards her, taking your backpack off your shoulder as the door clicked close behind you, "why-"
"Security let me in… I convinced them," she explained, a faint blush tainting her freckled cheeks as she felt strangely self-conscious under your gaze.
The hotel room wasn't big, quaint with its industrial-styled decorations and orange lighting; but with just the two of you occupying the space, it felt all kinds of intimate.
You scoffed, walking past her and to the bedroom without a second glance, "so much for security."
It hurt, way more than Jenna would care to admit. But part of her knew she brought it on herself. She followed after you, burying her hands in the pockets of her hoodie to hide the slight tremble of her fingers.
Your bedroom was even plainer than the main rooms. All your belongings are pushed to one side and filled only the lonely dresser by the ensuite bathroom door. It reminded Jenna of her own room.
She lazily brought her gaze back to you, her stomach twisting unpleasantly with apprehension; "I just wanted to talk."
Jenna's voice was small, uncharacteristically so, tugging at your heartstrings with each syllable.
This was just Jenna. No actress. No star. Just your Jenna.
You almost gave in right then and there.
But you had your back to her, fidgeting with the zipper on your bag to keep yourself busy. Her presence, her perfume, it filled the whole room, "now you want to talk?"
"I know, I was an- an awful friend to you," Jenna started, unable to stay still on her stance, "I know I should've called more and I'm so-" a sob broke through her voice, you were nothing but a blur in front of her.
"I'm so sorry for what I said," it was nothing but a whisper, said while Jenna hugged herself tightly, chasing some semblance of comfort that wasn't there. Her sudden vulnerability startled you.
You heard it loud and clear, it brought tears to your own eyes, even if you had promised you wouldn't cry anymore.
"That I was just something you had to deal with?" You finally turned to look at her then, and you strived to keep yourself impassive, because Jenna was far from okay.
Her eyes were red-rimmed and filled with tears that were just a blink away from spilling over. She looked so small in the spacious room. "That's not true. Not what I meant."
"Well, that's what it felt like, okay?" Your months of hurting escaped you, "so I'm sorry I kept my promise and I'm sorry it crowded you but you-" you took in a shaky breath to steady yourself, glancing up at the ceiling then back at her, "you meant a lot to me, Jenna…"
It was all it took for Jenna to break, because she saw herself being back in that airport with your hands holding onto her so tightly — and she missed you, so unbelievably much. She could taste her own tears on her lips, the grip she had on herself was almost bruising as soft sobs shook her body; "You mean everything to me, you have to know that. And losing you…" she hesitated, as if fearing that saying the words out loud made them true, her lower lip wobbling, "there's nothing I regret more."
You almost didn't catch her words given the unsteadiness of her voice. It was too much for you and your bleeding heart. You couldn't physically bear to stay one second more away from her.
You walked closer slowly, tentatively, until you were able to embrace her to you.
Jenna buried herself into you, her tears soaking your shirt as you practically held most of her weight all on your own. She held you so strongly you almost had trouble breathing.
For a moment it was all that was needed, you and her holding what was left of each other together.
"I never meant for it to happen," Jenna whispered against you, damp lips grazing the skin on your shoulder, "I never- I was in a bad place and, after the f-filming for Wednesday wrapped up I got called for so many other things I didn't even have time to breathe." She curled herself onto you, her grip only tightening as if trying to merge you into her so you'd never part ways again.
You ran your hand up and down her back, leaving goosebumps on her skin and feeling your own tears trickling down your cheeks. There's no putting into words how much you're able to miss someone until you're holding them again. Until you can finally come home to each other.
For the first time in more than a year, you could breathe.
"I'm so tired," Jenna's small voice came again, tender, right beside your ear, "everything was so overwhelming, I- I felt so alone," she nuzzled her nose against your neck, and you wondered for a moment how long it's been since she allowed herself to receive any kind of comfort.
A beat passed until you were able to find your voice again, a little hoarse and unsteady; "you could've told me, I would've been there, Jenna. You know I would've done anything and more to help you."
With a sniff, Jenna finally pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes, "I know," she pursed her lips, one hand coming up to brush at her cheek, damp with tear tracks — testimonies of her wounded heart that pulses with each beat for you, for you, for you.
With your silence, Jenna kept going, if anything, out of desperation; "I'm so sorry, please I- you must know I never meant for it to go like that."
Teardrops clung to her eyelashes too, eyes shining brightly under the dim lights of the bedroom and her nose a little red. Oh, how you missed her.
You gently raised your hands to her cheeks, your thumbs brushing away a few tiny tears that still escaped her. "It's okay," you breathed.
"Please don't leave me," she mumbled, a soft sob cutting through.
"Not leaving," you promised, leaning up to kiss her forehead, "I'd never leave you."
When her eyes found yours again, Jenna stumbled forward out of instinct, her nose bumping yours.
You closed the gap with the encouragement you knew she needed, "you know I'm never capable of staying mad at you for too long," you chuckled, your lips grazing hers. You were home.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3
Jenna’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @thenextdawn @alexkolax @aahdiieb @mindingmybidness12 @melthedwarf @smugchorizo @the-lazy-turtle @vorsdany @jjsmaybank20 @wol-fica @v1ci0us
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega imagine#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega#wednesday#wednesday addams x reader#jenna ortega x you#imagine#fanfic#fluff#angst#jenna ortega fanfic#jenna x reader#my story
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you got all my love | joel & tommy miller
Summary | Well, it was always going to happen, wasn't it? No-one had banked on a connection that ran this deep though.
Warnings | No smut, only softness. A little angst. Talk of pregnancy. Alcohol consumption. Smut will return in full force in the final two parts.
Word Count | 1.7K
Authors Note | Okay, so here it is! Everything we've been working towards so far. There's no smut here, just some softness, but I promise there are two more parts and this little threesome is far from over! If you're enjoying this so far, then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with some love - I have really enjoyed interacting with you all over this! And, if you'd like to leave a tip (As always, no pressure what-so-ever) then you can do so here on Ko-Fi.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
You have to rub your eyes until they sting to make sure you’re not seeing things. Then you have to do another one just to be sure. Then, just in case, another one just for luck, but all three show the same thing. Two pink lines. Those two fucking pink lines you had been praying for all along, on every single test. You’re pregnant. You’re finally fucking pregnant.
You gather all three tests in your hands once you’ve put the cap back on the bit you’ve peed on, before you bound down the stairs. It’s early in the morning and Tommy is stood at the coffee maker, waiting for enough liquid to filter to fill his mug. He turns around at the commotion of you almost falling into the table after forgetting to step on the final step. You’re breathless.
“What on earth is the matter, sugar?” He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter.
You hold up the three tests, but realise he can’t see anything with the grip you’ve got them held in. You take the strides to close the distance between you, setting them down on the counter next to the coffee machine. You watch, with a grin on your face as he picks one up, slamming it straight back down onto the counter when he sees the lines.
“Holy fuckin’ shit,” He breathes, turning to you, “You’re?”
You wrap your arms around his neck, and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I’m pregnant.”
His arms are crushing around you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. It finally worked. You’d finally been given everything you’d ever wanted. You pull back enough to fuse your lips with Tommy’s, before you pull away and realise you’re both crying.
“You’re gonna be a dad, Tommy.” You grin, pressing your lips all over his face, wherever you can reach.
“And you’re gonna be a mama, baby.” He speaks softly, setting your feet back on the ground, “Don’t know how I’m supposed to go to work now, I wanna tell everyone.”
You grin and cup his cheek, “I know baby, me too,” You look down at your feet before meeting his eye again, “There is someone we need to tell though.”
Joel is as welcoming as ever when you turn up that evening. He’s shouting up the stairs for Sarah to come and say hello, which she does, giving you both a hug before apologizing, glaring at her father, and informing you both that it’s already past her bedtime and she needs to brush her teeth.
“You want a drink?” Joel asks Tommy, who agrees to a glass of whiskey, “What about you, darlin’?”
“No, thank you, I’ll be driving back.” You smile, feeling around in the back pocket of your jeans for the lone test you’d brought with you, keeping it a secret to yourself for now.
Joel makes you a cup of tea and you sit around and chat for a while. Tommy filling him in on how things had been on site that morning, Joel talking about how he’d been to Sarah’s parent’s evening and how proud he was that she was doing so well. There was some off-hand comment that you frowned at, something about her inheriting the brains from her mother because they certainly hadn’t come from him, but it had been a nice conversation otherwise.
When there is a lull in the conversation, Tommy reaches across the table to take hold of your hand, sitting forward in his chair, “We have something to tell you.” He smiles at Joel.
You look to Tommy, reaching into your back pocket to fish the pregnancy test out before you slide it over the table to Joel. You watch as he picks it up, bringing it close enough to his face so he can see those two pink lines. Then he’s slamming it down on the table with a grin, all three of you standing in unison.
It’s you he comes to first. He wraps those big, strong arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own around his neck and giggle as he congratulates you, right into your ear. Then, he sets you down, a chaste kiss to your cheek, before he moves onto Tommy.
It’s a scene that makes you want to cry. Tommy stretches out his hand as if he wanted Joel to shake it, but instead, he pulls Tommy into the biggest hug you’ve ever seen the brothers give each other. They’re slapping each other’s backs, pulling apart just enough to grin at each other, before they embraced again.
When Joel finally does let Tommy go, Tommy comes straight to your side, pulling you into him as Joel leans against his kitchen counter.
“Listen, I don’t want to make this a huge thing,” Tommy starts, rubbing the back of his neck with that nervous energy you remember he had when he first suggested this, “But thank you, for everything, for giving us everything, I know you and I know you don’t want anything as thanks, but just know how grateful we are for this brother.”
He shakes his head with a little smile, “I told you, anythin’ for family.” And with a shrug, that’s pretty much it. Tommy gives him another hug before he’s turning to you.
“I’ll let you two have a minute alone,” Tommy smiles, giving your hand a squeeze, fishing the car keys out of his pocket, “I’ll see you outside.”
Joel is leaning against his kitchen counter with an expression you can’t place, so you take a few steps towards him, taking his big hand in your own before you place a kiss to the inside of his palm, trailing your lips in soft kisses up his arm until you reach the crook of his elbow where his flannel sits. Then, you pull that arm around your shoulder, wrapping your own arms around his waist in a hug.
He's quick to return it, squeezing you into his body, as his other arm comes up to cradle your head to his chest, running along the back of your head as you breathe in his scent. He dips and presses his lips, ever-so-gently, to the crown of your head.
“Thank you,” You whisper softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “I know it’s not much, but I don’t know what else you say.” You admit.
“Thank you is enough, pretty girl.”
You squeeze your arms tighter around his waist, you can’t look at him, not yet, not with your eyes filled with tears. You’re not even sure why you’re crying. Sure, you’re happy, over-the-moon, but there’s a sense of loss that sits inside you. It had been fun, what you’d been doing. Thrilling even, and you were always bound to get a little caught up in the way he made you feel when it was happening. Tommy has, and always will be, your number one. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him. But somewhere along the line, his rugged, older brother has stolen a piece of your heart all for himself and you don’t even mind all that much.
“I don’t want you to think we’re done with you,” You sniffle, trying to hold back the tears, “Just beause you’ve given us this, doesn’t mean we go back to normal; we can’t go back to normal.”
“I know babygirl,” He sighs, “I’m just happy I was able to make you happy, give you what you wanted,” There’s another kiss to your head now, “Take your time, you’re gonna be a family now, I don’t wanna get in the way of that, but I wanna help okay? You need anythin’, you call me, alright?”
You pull away and finally look at him, his own eyes glassy just like yours. He feels it too. It was only ever meant to be sex, only ever meant to be a means to an end, but neither of you expected the end to come so soon. Whether you, Joel or Tommy like it, you’re bonded to this man with his arms around your shoulders, and it’s scary. He loves his brother too much to do anything about the sinking feeling in his stomach, but God he wishes he could have you, just once more, just to tattoo what you felt like right onto his brain, onto his very soul, so he could remember you forever.
“Uncle Joel, right?” A lone tear rolls down your cheek, which Joel brushes away with the pad of his thumb, keeping one hand cupped around your cheek.
“Uncle Joel,” He nods, with a smile on his face, “And you best believe I’ll be the best damn Uncle ever.”
Your eyes are still glassed over with tears when you push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him. It’s soft and it only last a few seconds before you pull away. Before you can fully move yourself away though, Joel’s hands are cupping your face, leaning down to kiss you properly. His mouth opens at the same time as yours, and when his tongue is in your mouth, you can taste the whiskey on him. You can feel in this kiss everything you think he wants you to. The fact that he loves you, like he’s said before, as part of his family. The fact that he’s happy he could give you everything you wanted. The fact that he’s sad that he’s managed to do just that, and those moments he’d waited for, had craved all month long were gone now. That it’s okay, too, that he must step back, let you and Tommy figure out how to be parents together. That he’ll always be here, as long as he possibly can be, just in case you need him.
When you finally pull away from each other, a kiss placed by you on his jaw, you don’t say anything else. You don’t need too. Neither of you do. You just squeeze his hand and leave, joining Tommy in the car.
He hands you the keys and in no time at all you’re making the short drive to your own home. To your new life. The one Joel had given you, handed to you on a platter. You don’t think you’d ever be able to express to him how truly grateful you are to him. When you pull the car into the driveway and cut the engine, Tommy reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it.
“Okay?” He asks.
“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m okay.”
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller Smut#Joel Miller fic#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller fanfiction#Joel Miller fluff#Joel Miller x you#Joel Miller x reader#Joel Miller x female reader#Joel Miller x f!reader#Tommy Miller#Tommy Miller smut#Tommy Miller fic#Tommy Miller fluff#Tommy Miller fanfic#Tommy Miller fanfiction#Tommy Miller x you#Tommy Miller x reader#Tommy Miller x female reader#Tommy Miller x f!reader#The last Of Us#the last of us hbo#Pedro pascal#tlou#tlou hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou smut#the last of us smut#trial & error
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Scenario for a Batman Identity Reveal™-
Takes place before Batman has revealed his identity. The rest of the JL know each other's identities, except Batman's. They've just received news of a threat against Bruce Wayne.
Maybe a rogue or an intergalactic enemy or someone has found out that Bruce Wayne funds a majority of the League and thinks that killing him will severely weaken it. Fair enough, I mean it's easier to kill a civilian known to be an idiot as compared to the greatest heroes, right?
So now obviously the JL feel obligated to protect him. They don't particularly want to do it, and usually they'd just set up police protection, but everyone knows how corrupt Gotham police are, and Wayne is being targeted bc of them. They'd ask Batman, but he only comes out at night and has publicly expressed disdain for Bruce. So they've got to do it themselves.
They take it in shifts, and while Wayne seems very welcoming on the outside, it's a little obvious that he doesn't want them poking around his house. In addition, the first night they were on shift, Batman gave them a very strict warning about what is and isn't allowed in his city. He tried to get them to leave, but they overruled him.
At first, Bruce spends all his time acting like an air headed idiot, flirting with everyone that tries to talk to him and refusing to cooperate bc he doesn't believe the threat. 'Coincidently', he's always in the room every time one of them try to talk to talk to any of his children.
Then as time passes, he lets his guard down. They start to see a gentle, kind, Bruce Wayne whose children are his entire world, not token trophies. He speaks in a soft voice, one made out of cotton and clouds. He cares about the underprivileged in Gotham and genuinely works to make life better for them. He's smart and actually involved in his company. He's also incredibly slippery and tries very very hard to lose their tail at all times. The only reason they can keep up with him at all is because most of them have special powers (and because he's constrained by the fact that none of them know his identity).
One day, while they're trying to look for him after he's lost them yet again, he gets kidnapped. The entire JL rushes to find him and rescue him before the person they've come to honestly respect and enjoy the company of gets murdered for trying to help them. They search for and reach the place he's being held after 2 days, only to find him tying up the criminals- who definitely all have broken bones- surrounded by the horde of younger Gotham vigilantes.
He turns to look at them and growls, "You're late. Civilian rescue time needs to be much shorter, these people weren't even experienced kidnappers. You're lucky it was me they were after otherwise you'd have found a corpse. We're running drills back at the watchtower."
They're all shocked because... that's Batman's voice?? Coming from the richest man alive, known playboy, not so known gentle father, BRUCE WAYNE??? BATMAN HASN'T EVEN BEEN OFF DUTY SINCE THEY BECAME BRUCE BODYGUARDS????
Turns out his children all ganged up on him and forced him to reveal his identity, especially since the JL had become friends with him both inside and outside the mask.
#after the reveal#the jl have to go back and watch all the videos of batman dissing bruce wayne in public#and then just silently live with the realisation that batman is a huge troll#4sh-n4#dc#justice league#dc comics#batman#bruce wayne#batman identity reveal#justice league were SHOCKED#and then very honoured to be trusted#just imagining Bruce silently tiptoeing around the manor to avoid all the super senses on watch for movement in the middle of the night#with 3 fractures: “haha guys good morning! i slept sooo well last night thank you for protecting me :)#(he has not seen the sun in a week got 2 hours of rest and is already planning 18 ways to either escape them or get them out of his house)
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Dance with me?
Venture, aka Sloan Cameron x reader
You're at your friends wedding, and somehow meet the cutest damn person in the world.
Tags: fluff, strong language, slight sexual innuendo
Enjoy!!
[Note: I haven't written a fic in 192739 yrs, and my ass hasn't been to a wedding since I was 10 so forgive my ignorance abt how they go!!]
You weren't exactly a party person.
Parties are loud, crowded and really socially taxing. While yes, you'd attend parties here and there; mostly birthdays or accomplishments for friends and family. It still wasn't your favorite thing to do. You are actually pretty upfront with others about how little social interaction you can handle. That being said... fear of disappointing your friends usually got the better of you. They were fine, partying was fun.
Honestly, you'd be lying to everyone if you said you weren't thinking about your soft, cozy bed. Or how you were daydreaming about cuddling up to your pets and watching silly videos. Not even this beautiful wedding could curb your introvert nature.
It's evening now, the golden rays barely peeking over the horizon as it descends. A sweet, cool autumn breeze blows, ruffling your clothes and hair. A welcome comfort on this warm night.
The setting is truly beautiful. Soft, golden glowing lanterns are strung along the edges of the venue. Lush green plants in decorative pots line the edges. The pillars, stone and brick, are painted in the gentle glow of the lamps and lanterns. The style...is Greek? At least you think it's Greek. If someone told you otherwise, though, you'd take their word for it. Especially since half the people here are from the Wayfinder Society, all attending as friends of the groom. The wayfinders are sprinkled around the venue, chatting about and having a grand old time.
You? No such luck, you're only attending for your friend, who happens to be the other groom. While you know a handful of people, and did polite chit chat with them, you mostly stuck to yourself. Actually, that's a lie, you mostly stuck to the snack table. You're leaning by the side of it, plate in hand, trying just about anything there. I mean, what else are you supposed to do?
While eating a particularly good cube of cheese, you let your eyes wander the room. You see a group of people laughing, another group chattering amongst themselves, one enthusiastically waving their hands in the air, seemingly very passionate about the subject. You snort, amused. Drifting eyes finally move over to the husbands, who were talking to an older couple, a quick hug is given here and there.
Man. You were bored.
You weren't trying to be disrespectful here, you just didn't know anyone. Subconsciously, your leg starts bouncing, your thoughts dance to your fluffy, comfy bed. Reaching down for another snack on your plate, you’re disappointed to see they're all gone. Frowning a bit, you look over the table to see if there's anything else you'd like to try.
And boy, was there. The chocolate hair, the hazel skin, your eyes instantly locked onto the person plating their own food. They're dressed in a white button down, and black slacks, the sleeves of their dress shirt hugging them favorably. They even had a cute little yellow bowtie on. You couldn't tell their pronouns, so you figure you'd ask if you ever spoke. Which you weren't, you didn't want to intrude. They looked to be the same person absolutely raving earlier, you'd hate to keep them from it.
If they wanna speak to me, they will. You thought distantly, watching their hands as they pluck up a cupcake.
Workers' hands. You mused, they seemed rough, and strong. They must be one of those Wayfinders. Your eyes trail their fingers, the back of their hand, man...they have really nice hands. Unbeknownst to you, your staring hasn't gone unnoticed. Their hands stills, just before the confectionery hits the plate.
"Uhm... did you want this one?" They ask someone, curious, you look up to see who they're talking to. You finally get to see their face properly, and man they're gorgeous. Too bad you didn't have time to appreciate that fact, as your eyes instantly locked with theirs. You realize a little too late that you're the one they're talking to.
"Huh." Is all you manage to get out, unsure what the fuck to say to this stranger.
"The...cupcake?" They say, motioning it towards you. "Did you want it? You're staring at it like you want it." They say, clearly confused by the way you ogled their food.
"No- no I don't want it. I'm so sorry, ignore me." You cover your face and wave a hand in their direction, this is the worst thing you've ever done. Your face and ears burn in red hot embarrassment, you're just lucky they thought all you wanted was the damn cupcake.
They seem to find it a little funny now, how you're running away from the cupcake you were practically stalking as it left the platter. "Okayyyy, well then this is mine!" They joke, putting it onto their plate before strutting away, seemingly unperturbed by your god awful screw up.
God, you needed to sit down.
You're practically on fire, feeling like you're gonna break into a sweat. Shakily, you find a chair in a less populated area and take a seat. You bend over, putting your face in your hands and elbows on your knees, as if trying to hide yourself. While you know, reasonably, that this isn't the end of the world, you can't help but feel like it is. You got caught! Red handed!
Yes, they thought it was the cupcake, so maybe you weren't totally fucked. But also, you're totally fucked who are you kidding?!
You didn't exactly think you'd interact with them before, but it's awful your only interaction was weird and unseemly on your end. Groaning quietly, you remove one hand from your face to fan yourself, damn you feel stupid.
You fan open part of your outfit, hoping in vain to let more air in to cool yourself down. Freaking out like this isn't a good look. After a couple minutes, you start to feel a little better. The flush of your cheeks is fading, and you miraculously avoided breaking into an anxious sweat.
Sighing, you puff out your lips, you just sent texts to your closest friend about how massively you fumbled the bag. They laughed at you, while you scream-spammed the chat in horror. They did end up reassuring you that you were overreacting, that it was not in fact the end of the world. You thanked them before turning off your phone. You get up, dust yourself off a little before wandering back to the food table; finding yourself in front of the disposable drink cups, grabbing one. Gazing to the left, you find the water. You watch the water slowly drizzle into your cup, before downing the glass in a couple large gulps. Still thirsty, you fill it up again before returning to your seat.
Man, what a day, go to a beautiful wedding, see your friend get married, then fumble the biggest bag ever. You mentally kick yourself, even though on the outside, you look completely normal, sipping on your cup naturally.
Bouncing your foot a bit, you lean forward to scroll on your phone, hoping to find something interesting to pass the time and distract you. You're scrolling for about 5 minutes before someone sits next to you. Out of politeness you don't look, thinking it's another guest needing a seat.
"Soo, about that cupcake. I ate it, definitely. But I felt a little bad. Here." The person next to you says, snapping you out of your doom scrolling.
Why. Why why why. Is all you can think. They're fucking with you, haunting you. All over a cupcake. You look over and see they've got a small plate with another damn cupcake on it.
"Oh im- I'm not hungry anymore, thanks though." You try to nicely deflect, hoping they'll catch the hint and let you die in shame, alone.
"Hmm, okay!" They say, they turn to face forward, unwrapping it for themself. They take a bite and bounce one of their legs, and you wonder why they're torturing you. They hum to themself as they continue to eat.
God. Please just go away...
They put their plate down and dust their hands, somehow already finishing the sickeningly sweet treat. "So." They state, placing both hands on either side of their seat, leaning forward, looking towards you. "Whatcha doing over here all by yourself?" They ask curiously.
"Well uh-" You clear your throat, "My friend’s the groom, it's his wedding. But I don't really know anyone else but him." You shrug, trying to relax and ease into conversation with them.
"Yeah, know how that feels." They say, sympathetically. "Wellll." They draw out the word, as if to emphasize it. "I was thinkin’ you could come to our table! I hate seeing anyone left out." Their smile is reassuring, until they start smirking. "Even. If. They stare at other people's food."
Ok, you can't help it. You groan at their jab, while dragging a hand down your face. "Man, you will not drop that, huh?" You say, only a little less embarrassed this time.
"Nope!" They tease, clearly getting a kick outta this.
"You know what, I barely know you and you're already the worst." You joke, and your brain nearly breaks in two when they giggle at it. Their shoulders shake and they grin, still looking at you. You can't help but smile, even while trying really hard not to. They were stunning, cute and worst of all, infuriating.
"Sorry for staring earlier...I was trying to see... your cufflinks." You say, clearly lying. As if desperately attempting to get out of the cupcake joke jail.
"Hmmm." They hum, unbelieving, eyebrows raised and nodding. "Well, too bad I don't have those." They smile, raising a hand up to show off their sleeve.
You instantly cringe, caught once again. "Oh right." You mumble out, pursing your lips. Damn, you're fighting for your fucking life over here.
Your reaction makes them laugh. An honest to god laugh, and it's loud. They're finding WAY too much amusement in proving you wrong and you don't know why. Despite the embarrassment, you were now enjoying yourself. Talking to them, joking around, even if it's at your expense. Their laugh is almost contagious, and they've got the prettiest smile you've ever seen.
"So.. what's your name?" You ask, your left hand fiddling anxiously at your side. Their laugh simmers down, and they sigh like they just heard the funniest joke in the world.
They hold their hand out towards you, "Sloane, yours?" You grab their hand and shake it, their grip firm. Your brain almost short circuits, realizing how much larger their hand is to yours. You say your name, and they repeat it.
"It's nice to meet you!" They say, shaking your hand once more before letting it go.
"Sloane is a really pretty name." You state, trying to make conversation. Totally, 100% not flirting with them, of course.
"Awe shucks, you think so? Well I like yours too." They shoot back, their cheerful glow never dropping. They look over, and you do the same. You see them eyeing the table they came from. It appears someone stole their seat.
"Oh, I'm sorry." You immediately apologize, feeling bad that their place was taken while talking to you. They shake their head and huff a little laugh, their curly hair bouncing.
"Why're you sorry? Don't be. Plus, it's no biggie." They say nonchalantly, genuinely unphased. They crack a smile and lean forward, as if they're sharing a secret. "Don't worry, I'll get back at them." They whisper, a mischievous gleam in their eyes.
You giggle, and pull back a little. "What're you gonna do huh?"
They pull an inquisitive face, staring up at the ceiling almost performatively. "I dunno! Maybe I'll put confetti in all of their tents!" They announce, toying with the idea. You couldn't tell if they're serious or not.
"You probably shouldn't do that." You jokingly warn, thinking abt how much of a pain confetti would be to get out of a tent. Much less the sleeping bags.
Sloane grins, shining that gorgeous smile again. They seem to be the happiest person in the world. "Well, that's what they get for kicking me out of my own seat!"
You shake your head and let out a small chuckle, "You really are something."
They push you by the shoulder a bit, "I'm a great something I'll have you know." They joke, before settling back in their seat.
Silence settles over the two of you for a bit, and it nearly becomes unbearable. That is until music begins to play. The lights towards the middle of the room light up, and the rest are dimmed to create a spotlight effect. The happy couple's chosen song is playing, and you watch as they approach the center of the room, beginning to dance. You smile, and awe at the sight. Seeing your friend so happy and glowing was truly a treat.
Sloane also watches, they love parties and weddings. Seeing two people so in love is one of life's many treasures. They look over towards you and see you recording your friends dance, they allow a small smile creep onto their face. They admire your side profile and the way your hair compliments you perfectly. You are eye-catching, and the way you practically folded over a cupcake earlier was hilarious. They love funny things, so they've GOT to get to know you. Exploring is one of their favorite things after all.
They settle back and turn their attention to the dance. Eventually the music begins to wind down, and one of the grooms leaves the dance floor. It's the parents' dance, they think. Now that it isn't your friend out there, you click off the record button and look over to Sloane.
"So, what brings you here?" You ask, making conversation with them. They turn their head to face you, their hands loosely clasped together on their lap.
"I'm from the wayfinders society! The other groom, Rey, is my good friend." They chirp, pointing at your friends now husband. "Y’know, me and him got lost once in a cave! Scary stuff, didn't know if we'd make it out." They said dramatically, waggling their fingers in your direction.
"You serious??" You furrow your brow, and lean forward incredulously. Their warm dark eyes look back to their friend, and they nod. "Yeah, it was a couple years ago. We lost sight of our team, and couldn't find our way out. I ended up drilling us a new exit. Real risky doing that but we didn't have a choice." Sloane recounts, "Could've been worse!" They add, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
"That's crazy, I could never do anything like that." You tap your foot against the ground, even thinking about that type of stuff gets you wound up.
They turn back to you with a hum and smile, "Well, you never know until you try! Exploring is the best thing I've ever done for myself, I love it. Seeing what the world was like before us… finding the rocks and gems the earth has made. It's real worth it." Their passion is evident, every word they speak has them glowing. You admit it's rather charming, seeing them so in love with their work.
"Man, that's so cool." You state warmly. "You got a really cool job, Sloane. You got the job little kids dream of."
They smile genuinely, really happy with the thought. "Well my abuela always said to follow your dreams, so I did. What about you? What's your dream?" They gently nudge your shoe with theirs.
"Hmmm, well. I guess I'm still trying to figure that out." You hum, looking at the ground. Your interests aren't nearly as exciting as theirs. Working one dead end job to the next, just trying to make ends meet. "Thinking tattooing, honestly." You add, looking up at them.
Sloane gasps, eyes widening. "That's so awesome though! I love tattoos, I've got at least four or five." They pull down the collar of their button down to reveal more of the flames tattooed across their neck. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't already noticed it. Wanting to see how far down it goes.
Quickly, you bat those thoughts away. Sticking to complimenting the line work and blocking of their tattoo. You ask what others they've got, and they explain all the patchwork they've got done on their arms. Some historical, some cool, some just to have a piece of the places they've been. They even mention a larger one on their thigh, a dinosaur skull with flowers. You try not to sound too interested in seeing them while asking if they have pictures.
The conversation between you and Sloane runs smoothly, chattering about your lives and cracking jokes at one another's expense. The dancing at the party is now in full swing, guests of all types littering the dance floor. It's now completely dark outside, save for the lighting inside the venue. The lamps hanging from the ceiling are dimly glowing, the lanterns now back to their full glow. You even spot fireflies outside the venue, blinking on and off, flying into the wedding space and out. The place is truly beautiful.
The strumming of a bass fills the venue, an electronic guitar complimenting it perfectly. You recognize it instantly, as it's a song you've come to enjoy. Your new friend, Sloane, practically jumps out of their skin in excitement. They quickly whip their head to look at you while whisper shouting, "I love this song!!"
They bolt up, staring at the dance floor as both their feet hit the ground with a soft thud. They twirl their whole body around, looking at you with an outstretched hand, "Come dance with me??" They frantically blurt out.
You look dumbly at Sloane before slinking back into your chair a bit, cringing. "No no- I don't dance." While waving a hand in their direction dismissively. You're hesitant and it's obvious. The idea of getting in the middle of a bunch of people and dancing. God, not what you were made for.
You were telling the truth, you don't dance! Anyone seeing you attempt to dance may need an ambulance. Sloane slumps by your reaction, and pokes conversationally, "Aww c’monnn, pretty please? With cherries on top? One song?" They say, leaning backwards a bit on the heels of their feet while keeping their upper body forward. They begin pouting a lip out and sporting their best puppy dog eyes, hoping it'll help sway their case.
Nervously, you rub your pointer finger across your thumb. This is not what I signed up for, you think as your lips form a line, eyes locking with Sloanes, trying to will yourself into saying no.
Damn.
You can't. You can't say no! You know you'd kick yourself later if you left without dancing with them. They're everything you like in someone, striking, funny, passionate... You internally groan, searching their dark eyes for a way out. Sadly, there isn't one. Their eyes only plead and beg.
And well... who are you to deny them?
Breathing in a deep, deep sigh, you fold, "Okayy. Okay." You say, holding both hands up, signaling defeat.
Sloane is about to shout out a glorious, loud YES before you cut them off with a finger up. "But first, a shot of liquid courage." You say, pushing yourself up from your chair, walking towards the end of the food table. There lay countless plastic shot glasses full of vodka. You pluck one from the rim of the platter.
Sloane watches as you down the drink, admiring the way your throat moves to swallow. They snort when they see you pulling a face.
"C'mon- c'mon- the song is already going." They bounce, having to fight the urge to just drag you onto the dance floor themself. Shaking your head, you wipe away the grimace on your face and discard the tiny shot glass into the nearby garbage.
They grab your hand and pull you into the crowd, though they seem somewhat aware of your aversion to it. So they lead you towards a less populated end of the floor, despite this, nearly everyone at the wedding was dancing. So you were still around a decent amount of people. They smile wide, looking off into the gaggle of party goers. You find it ironic this is the song you're dancing to, the lyrics playing loudly.
We've got nowhere to go
We've got nothing to prove
Instead of dancing alone
I should be dancing with you
The lyrics are slightly erotic, even, but you don't have much time to ponder it when they turn back to face you. They release your hand, before snapping their fingers in tune with the beat and swaying their hips. You giggle, your cheeks and stomach buzzing from the alcohol. Unfortunately for Sloane, you do not know how to dance. Not well at least, they laugh, watching you sway awkwardly. "You don't dance do you?" They ask, almost having to shout to be heard over the clamor of people and music.
"No, not really!" You reply, before admitting, "I don't wanna look dumb!"
"Look dumb?! I'll show you dumb." They jest, backing up a bit to give themself some space. With their eyes locked onto yours, they bend their knees while bringing their right hand towards their head, palm open. They're walking towards you sideways, left hand swiping back and forth to their side and front. You about shit yourself, recoiling in shock and laughing. They continue though, bringing both hands up in fists towards their head, pumping them as they shake their hips, still approaching you.
"What are you doing!!" You shout, cracking up at their absurdity. They finally pivot fully towards you, bending forward and moving their hands in circles. They finish off their charade with a performative strut your way, palms open in a dramatic walk.
They laugh, grabbing one of your hands and pulling you further into the floor. "I'm dancing!! You should try it sometime!" They jive, sticking their tongue out. "I'm just saying, no one can look sillier than me!" You roll your eyes and shake your head. The smile never leaving your face.
They grab your other hand and start dancing for you, swaying you side to side. You can't help but giggle, letting them have their fun. You sway your hips and release their hands, moving yours back, snapping your fingers while doing circles and stepping side to side. Their grin widens and they yell, "Hell yeah! get it!!" Encouraging you.
Smiling big, you continue attempting to dance with them. Sloane closes their eyes and lets themself feel the music, they move their feet expertly, and their arm movements intentionally. Seeing this makes you realize they definitely know how to dance. Your eyes explore them, their body and the way they move. It feels dirty watching them like this…But they invited you to dance, you think maybe they want you to watch them. Enjoy them, drink them up.
It feels as though they've already wrapped you around their finger. You feel sadness bubble that the song is already ending. Luckily the next song that plays doesn't disappoint, more bass-y than the last. This one still just as popular as the day it released.
You let yourself loosen, swaying your full body in rhythm with the bass as the song goes on. Sloane is looking at you again, and you daringly strut around them, stepping in beat with the drums. Alcohol does wonders for self esteem. They wait for you to come back around before stepping close, pulling you in by the hand. You raise an eyebrow, checking them with a grin, before gleefully walking back, shuffling your feet in tune with the music then pulling them towards you. They follow excitedly, their foot work impressive as they step towards you. They raise your held hand up as they approach and you twirl around to face them once more. Confidence runs through you at this point, letting go of the hand above you. You bring your free hand up quickly, placing it on their chest before grabbing their opposite hand. They're grinning so hard, pulling back, until your arms are taunt. Then jerking you towards them, you turn so your back hits their chest. Sloane has one hand around your front, hugging you just beneath your chest. The other holding your hip, their head resting next to yours. You both just sway now, enjoying each other's company and the music. "This okay?" They ask in your ear, the tone in their voice dropping low.
"Huh?" You say loudly, turning to face them.
"I asked if this is okay!" They announced a little louder, and closer to your ear.
"Yeah!" You affirm happily, like this is the best day of your life.
Do I wanna know?
If these feelings flow both ways.
Sad to see you go.
Sorta hoping that you'd stay.
Baby we both know.
That the nights were mainly made for sayin' things.
That you can't say tomorrow day.
Dancing with them like this, swaying side to side feels almost romantic. And you're having a really hard time ignoring that fact. That coupled with your already burning attraction has you dizzy. You could stay here forever. Another song passes by, and you both continue dancing with one another. At one point, you fumble through a waltz before they twirl and dip you. Despite having the time of your life, exhaustion was quickly catching up. Feeling a bit hot, and tired, holding both their hands, you turn around.
Looking up at Sloane, you truly get to admire their beauty. They've got beautiful curls, swooping and gentle. Their hair is natural, soft looking, and when you danced you could even smell their shampoo. Their eyes are a deep brown, rich like the dirt they so love digging through. You finally notice their eyebrow piercing as well, and you bite your lip. It suits them. You think.
The longer you analyze their features, you wonder how the hell they're even real. How someone could look as perfect as them, be as charming as them. It nearly drives you mad. They smile a little, their eyes darting away. Their flushed cheeks grow a little redder at your prolonged staring. You smile a little, this is the first time you've seen them at least a little bashful. It's adorable.
The music is playing quietly now, seeing as most of the guests vacated the dance floor. Only a few stragglers are left, you included. So now you can properly talk to them.
"You know earlier... I wasn't exactly looking at the cupcakes…” You purse your lips, and squint your eyes, as if to will yourself to get the words out.
“I was staring at you." You chew your lip, looking away shyly. This confession could make or break this… whatever this is. You certainly don't wanna break it. While nervous, you had a feeling they would respond positively.
Their eyes snap back towards you, and they let themself smile, raising an eyebrow. "Ohhh, I'm that pretty, huh?" They tease.
You sigh and roll your eyes, they really are such a bastard. "Yeah yeah, whatever." You mutter, playfully pushing their shoulder. Not risking stroking their ego any further.
"No no, tell me, was it the bowtie?" They snicker, pushing their chest out a bit to really show it off.
You shake your head, running your hands up from their own and readjusting their accessory. “Yes, it was the bowtie, all I wanted was you, bowtie.” You whisper at their chest, pulling the sides of the bow.
“Psh,” They chuckle, “Okay for real! What was it, huh?” They say, flashing their signature grin while raising their eyebrows suggestively. Perhaps telling them was a bad idea, you purse your lips again, realizing they'll bother you forever until you tell them. It seems like they're DYING to know.
You hum, dropping your head onto their chest. With one hand still on their chest, you let your other trail down their arm before grasping theirs, bringing it up towards you. Flipping it palm up, you let your free hand lightly touch their palm. "Your hands, I like them. I was looking at them." Dragging your fingers along their palm, you feel every callous and rough patch of skin. You turn them over to admire their nail polish and knuckles. You even start to massage in-between their fingers, just soaking up the fact that you can touch them like this, and they're allowing you to.
They seem to be at a loss for words, and you figure that doesn't happen too often. Smiling, you walk your fingers up their arm and to their shoulder to rest it there, bringing your other arm up to mirror it. Their hands come up to your waist and bring you close. While enjoying the embrace, you weren't expecting them to shake you and hug you in tightly. They groan into your shoulder, as if frustrated. You puff out a laugh at their weirdness.
"Sorry- you're just so cute." They say, pulling back. "I just met you and you already got me in stitches." They admit, kicking the dirt by your feet. You figure instant attraction to a stranger is just as new to you as it is to them.
"Well..." You start, not even sure what to say. "We can… go back to my room? I'm staying at a hotel nearby. We can hang out, talk...see where it takes us?" Your voice raises at the end of your sentence, as if a little worried they'll say no. That's another lie, you were a LOT worried they'll say no, denying you any more of their time.
Your anxiety is evident as your eyes search their face for a clue, a glimmer of what they might say. Of what they could be thinking.
Sloane looks at you with tenderness. Such sweetness you could melt. They bring a hand up to cup the side of your face, rubbing their thumb across it. "I'd like that." They say, their voice seems to tighten as if they're both excited and nervous about the proposition.
Yeah, usually parties suck. But this one? This one was amazing.
#i proof read this like 2983 times and so did my bf and then also another friend so if theres a typo im sorry im stupid#venture x reader#sloane cameron#sloan cameron#overwatch#self insert#overwatch 2#venture overwatch#great googily moogily that thang is juicey#crazy i wrote a fanfiction#also the songs are out of control by she wants revenge and then do i wanna know by arctic monkeys
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Dream Come True
pairing: ethan morales x reader
content: a fluffy fic about ethan and your relationship with smut at the end
18+ minors dni
a/n: i wanted to read an ethan fic so bad so I wrote one myself<33
you were the perfect girl and you'd literally strangle someone if they said so otherwise.
but ethan morales was exactly the mess you wanted in your life.
it all started at a party that was happening at ethan's house and you were sitting on the couch talking to your friends.
"there's my best girl" ethan said with a sigh sitting down on the couch besides you.
"you do realise this is the first time im talking to you" you answered back.
"you gotta admit it was a nice try to start conversation."
"yes I'll give you that."
he was grinning and that was the first time you noticed that ethan morales' eyes sparkled and god were you in awe of them.
see the truth was you have liked ethan since a while now before his whole 'I'm a hot skater boy' thing started.
after that party he started texting you constantly felt like a dream come true really and about a week later you found yourself in parking lot attending ethan's skateboarding.
right now he was sitting beside you and you couldn't get your eyes off him.
"you wanna learn some tricks?" he said suddenly and you without thinking of the consequences agreed.
and not even two minutes later you fell off the skateboard and on your butt.
you started laughing though and ethan sat beside you.
looking at each other you both leaned in on reflex your hands going to his chain to pull him closer.
and that was the exact moment you kissed ethan morales for the first time.
it was uphill from there you both started dating hitting the 6 month mark he was actually a nice person under the bad boy persona.
it was a saturday when ethan's parents weren't home and you both welcomed the empty space with open hands.
you were sitting on his lap kissing him quite aggressively, he started kissing down your neck and it was like both of you knew what was coming.
he flipped the both of you to lay you down "ever done this before?" he asked .
"no" you shyly answered.
he started to unbutton his shirt and you gladly helped him and started doing the same to yours.
"you're so pretty."
you blushed at that.
his hands were going lower and lower until they reached your folds.
"god you're so wet."
he aligned his cock at your entrance and pushed in and after waiting for you to adjust he started to move.
fuck you couldn't believe you were here you couldn't believe ethan was inside of you and you were marking scratches down your back.
you both came and he flopped down beside you.
"that was amazing"
"so amazing" he agreed
he then pulled you onto him and gave you a forehead kiss and you didn't want to be anywhere but here.
#ethan morales#ethan morales x reader#ethan morales x y/n#ethan#never have i ever#ethan morales imagine#ethan morales one shot#ethan morales fic#nhie#nhie season 4#ethan morales x you#chitasmut
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Jock!reader who's like really nice to everyone and has a crush on Ethan and tries to flirt with him while Ethan is tutoring him and FAILS MISERABLY and Ethan just thinks it the most adorable thing ever ahhhh plss🙏
- ♣️
YES YES YES HELLO ♣️ ANON!!! welcome my third child 🙏🙏🙏🙏 literallt love u sm thank you for this pookie
ETHAN MORGAN ; flirty jock and flustered geek
summary ; jock!reader who has a crush on ethan and fails successfully to flirt with him
warnings ; language, cheesey stuff lol, reader is described as a basketball player but can totally be changed, this also isn't that great tbh
word count ; 1k
masterlist
You rest your letterman jacket on the back of the chair you sit on, being greeted by Ethan. He opens his binder to the homework in the Geometry packet, and you do the same, mentally preparing yourself. You notice his white binder is covered in stickers and some reference to vampires, witches, the supernatural, and beyond. Ethan was kind of your friend, you were more than acquaintances but you didn't talk outside of Geometry and English class.
You were one of the very few nice people on the basketball team, or maybe you were just a decent person and didn't judge people all too quickly. Otherwise, you didn't mind needing the tutoring from Ethan, you appreciated it really, if you failed another test you could be at risk for getting kicked off the team and you might lose the opportunity for a scholarship to college.
"Okay, so, what exactly do you need help with?" The brunette asks, looking up at you as he runs a hand through his hair, looking a little nervous.
"I just don't know how to like, figure out what shape they are like, how Mr. D wants us to, and like how to find the second base or the height" You explain, "Like, I know how I just can't remember the like, equations, I guess. And when I do, I get the math wrong"
He nods, "Okay, so, you know how to find the areas and perimeters well enough, though, right?"
You nod.
As he begins to explain how to solve your problems, you notice his orange t-shirt, accentuating the perfectly placed blush on his cheeks, faint but definitely pink. The way he spoke to dumb it down for you a bit but to not infantilize you made you smile a bit, seeing as he cared about your feelings. You notice him rub the nape of his neck, seemingly anxious or nervous around you, or maybe uncomfortable because he didn't know how to teach, like how Mr. D should be teaching you this and not poor Ethan, wasting his study hall for you.
You were already very, very aware of your crush on Ethan Morgan. He was your every thought, he was in your blood, in your ears, in your eyes, and in your tears. (weezer reference)
But, now was not the time to dilly dally about with high school crushes, these next 35 minutes could potentially determine your entire future. You needed this free ride to college, otherwise you'd turn into another old person working a job that pays minimum wage for maximum effort.
As time lugged on, you couldn't help but not focus on your homework and instead focus on Ethan and his gorgeous face. He looks back up at you after asking a question, seeing you were totally zoned out staring at him.
"Y/n?" He waves a hand in front of your eyes, trying to snap you back to reality. (eminem reference, wow I'm on a roll today)
You blink, "Oh, shit, sorry, uh, what'd you say, pretty boy?"
You couldn't even think about the words spilling out of your mouth until after they already fell. Those words hit Ethan like a falling anvil, his face turning bright red as he tries to shrug it off as you were just surprised and trying to be nice to him.
"Uh, this is the equation, uhm, try solving it"
You awkwardly nod, writing down the equation and putting in the numbers with the respective variables. You solve the equation, ending up with 24 for the height. He looks confused, having got a different answer. He scooches over to you, trying to figure out where you went wrong.
"Y'know, you're like a walking calculator. A cute one though" You shrug, he looks at you with a slightly confused and amused face, "I dunno what that even means, sorry"
He nods, "Oh, okay, you I think multiplied by two instead of dividing"
"Oh, whoops" You pick your pencil back up, fixing your mistake.
"There you go!" Ethan smiles, "It's just little mistakes, you'll build on it" He lightly pats your shoulder.
"Did you know Ancient Romans used to brush their teeth with their urine? And it actually worked?" You randomly ask him, fidgeting with your pencil.
Ethan blinks, slightly confused before he lightly laughs. "I hate you, focus on the Geometry, no stalling"
"Do you hate me or are we about to kiss right now?"
"Dude. Did you get that off Pinterest or something?"
"...Yeah"
He hides a laugh and bites his lip, "Okay so you-"
"Damn, are you Terms and Conditions? Cause I'd love to blindly agree to whatever you say"
Ethan quickly covers his mouth, "Shut up!"
You laugh a bit, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't sleep for shit last night and I'm getting frustrated cause I don't understand this"
"You'll learn!" Ethan smiles, shaking you lightly by the shoulders.
Some time later, the bell is about to ring, dismissing you to lunch.
"Thanks Eth" You lightly smile, "Oh, uh-" You reach into your backpack, pulling out some homemade cookies in a plastic Tupperware, handing them to him. "These are for you. I have to go to lunch in a second" You say, pulling your backpack over your shoulders, carrying your binder and pencil in hand.
"Oh- thank you!" He smiles, watching you stand up. The smile falters a bit due to awkwardness, "Uh- I have lunch next period too-"
"Bye Ethan, see you later! Love you, dude!"
Ethan is left confused and slightly shocked, cheeks a little red.
He knew you had a crush on him, he felt the same way, but he loved seeing you miserably fail to flirt with him. You were no romantic, if anything, a hopeless romantic in your thoughts.
He smiles, looking down at the red-lid Tupperware, seeing soft, chocolate chip cookies inside, his favorite.
"Thanks, Y/n," He whispers with a little smile, then gathers up his binder and books, shoving them in his backpack.
He notices a tingling feeling in his face, feeling a familiar warmth on his face as he thought about the nicknames and dumb pickup lines you'd spilled out of your lips that past half hour. God, would he love to kiss those lips of yours. He sighs, realizing he should definitely let you do that some more before he asks about it at all.
Thankfully, he'd been able to have slipped a note into your binder before you left.
"Hey Y/n! If you need any help tomorrow I'll be in the library. Bring your pickup lines with you, and I might help you not get kicked off the team. -Ethan"
#lowkeyrobin#mbav#mbav x reader#ethan morgan x reader#ethan morgan#ethan mbav#benny weir#rory keaner#♣️ anon#rory mbav#mbav oneshot#ethan morgan oneshot#gn reader#they/them reader#rory keaner x reader#benny weir x reader
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