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ihave-atummyache · 7 months

Text

you drive me crazy

Stray Kids Imagine

summary: things that makes the boys weak in the knees.

OT8

5.3k words

NFSW!!! 18+

(some smut but not really a smutty piece. super suggestive tho!!)

(im just gonna post this and pretend i havent been mia for weeks<3)

Bang Chan: low rise pants

Your boyfriend doesn't know exactly what it is about you in low rise pants that gets to him, but he knows he's always having to drag his eyes away from that little sliver of skin. The fact that one wrong move could have him catching a glimpse of your panties makes him feel like a horny little teenager.

The two of you decided to go out one night, just some fairly private club that you frequented together. He sat in your living room while you placed finishing touches on your outfit for the night.

It had been a while since you went out and you were super excited to wear an outfit that you had been imagining in your head for months, but you just never got the opportunity to wear it.

You slipped the cargo pants up your legs and looked yourself over in the mirror again. You look hot. The corset top you had on accentuated your chest perfectly and was low enough that only the strip of stomach just below your bellybutton is visible. You quickly grab one of your favorite necklaces, a delicate "C" pendant hang just below your collarbone and you smiled at yourself one more time before grabbing your bag and walking to the living room.

Chan glanced up from his phone while you slipped your shoes on and had to do an honest double take. You were slightly bent over and that little sliver of skin that has him wanting to bend you over every surface is exposed right to his lurking eyes.

He stands quickly just as you straighten and approaches you from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulder. His hands find purchase on the exposed skin, his fingers sliding through your front belt loops and his thumbs rubbing over the warm skin of your hips, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

"You drive me crazy, baby," his voice is low and you let out a quiet hum when his lips brush over the back of your neck.

"I didn't do anything, Channie," you smile to yourself when you feel him smile against your skin.

"You know how much I love these pants. You're so pretty," he speaks up again, a shy chuckle following his compliment. You reach your hand back and scratch the back of his head, letting out your own chuckle.

"You compliment me too much," you tease and pull away from your boyfriend's arms to step out the door. He follows you out and his hand quick finds your hip again, holding you possessively close to his body as you make your way to the car.

It doesn't even matter if you have a little happy trail or if you're completely bare on that little spot. He just absolutely adores it. When you wear low rise pants in public, he secretly wishes you had a hickey over your hip so everyone knows that you belong to him. Or, even better in his opinion, a tattoo of his name or initial.

I imagine him being the type to be absolutely obsessed with a tramp stamp if you have one. His fingers always tracing over the lines when he’s looking at it or when he’s drilling into you from behind.

And if you happen to have a whale tail? It's over. You aren't even making it out the house. As soon as he lays eyes on the little string of your thong hanging out the top of your pants, all he wants is to pull them down your legs with his teeth and eat you out for hours.

Lee Know: flare leggings/yoga pants

Flare leggings make everyone's butt look good. It is a known fact around the world. It is also a known fact around the world that your sweet and loving boyfriend loves a good butt.

The first time Minho saw you in some black flare leggings, he didn't think much of it. You had told him earlier that you were going to a yoga class with one of your friends. Of course you would wear something along the lines of yoga pants.

You lean over and give him a quick kiss before you turn to leave and his eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight. He was already sitting on the couch so he was essentially eye level with your ass, he had no choice but to look.

"Honey..." his voice trails off as soon as you bend over to pick up your bag from the ground, a low and involuntary groan leaving his throat. There's no way you had any underwear on and he so deeply wished he never had that thought because now his pants are significantly tighter than they were a few minutes ago.

"Yes? I need to go. What's wrong, love?" You turn to face him again. His eyes meet yours and he licks his lips before shaking his head.

"Never mind. Have fun!" He continues shaking his head, a smile cracking over his features. You eye him suspiciously before turning and heading to your yoga class.

The second time he sees you in flare leggings, you were meeting him at his house to go get some food with one of his friends and their significant other. You gently knock on the door before he opens it. His eyes immediately dart down and recognize the pants you have on, making him gulp.

You had on a cropped shirt with a cropped knit sweater and those damn black pants. You're smiling at him when his eyes finally meet yours again but his smile had quickly dropped.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" You question, a frown taking over his features as your boyfriend clenches his jaw and shakes his head before stepping to the side to let you in. You wordlessly enter and kick your shoes off.

You sit your bag down at the table and before you even realize he's behind you, you feel a sharp slap on your ass. You jump at the sudden sting and immediately turn around. Minho's eyes only meet yours for a second before a smirk covers his face.

"You want my roommates to see you in these? I think I should burn them," He raises his eyebrows at you and you look down at your outfit, still confused before looking back up at your boyfriend.

"Min, I don't-"

"What? You're going to say you haven't noticed how amazing your ass looks in these pants when you wear them? No need to lie to me, princess. There's no way you haven't noticed," he interrupts you and you feel heat creep up your neck. You look away quickly but his hand grabs your jaw, turning you towards him before pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Mhm. Do I need to cancel our little double date so I can remind you that you're all mine? And I don't like people looking at what's mine, princess. You know that," He taunts and you blink at him a few times before shaking your head at him.

"What? You don't want me to fuck you so brainless that the only thing you remember is my name? That's so unlike you. I bet you don't even have any panties on..." he trails off, his fingertips grazing over your warm cheek before he presses his knee gently between your thighs and applies pressure to where you're pulsing in need because of his filthy words.

"We only have 20 minutes until we have to leave," you breath out and he presses against your core firmer, making a moan leave your mouth and your eyes flutter shut.

"Then you better cum quick, baby," he replies before crashing his lips against yours again.

Changbin: crop tops

Even if you have insecurities about your own belly, Changbin loves it. Whether you're soft or toned, he doesn't care. He loves rubbing his hands up your warm skin under your shirt and feeling the goosebumps rise on your skin at his gentle touch.

When you two started dating, it was quite cold so you didn't wear any crop tops around him. Once the weather finally started warming up, however, you wasted no time in whipping out the cropped shirts.

You two decided to grab brunch at a local cafe before going to the park to have a picnic since the weather had started warming up. Being spring, the air was quite cool in the morning but once you two were settling in for your picnic, the sun began to shine a bit brighter and it quickly became warmer, making you open your jacket, leaving your stomach exposed to the air.

Changbin doesn't even realize you have a crop top on until you stand and throw something away in a nearby trashcan. His eyes quickly drop to your stomach and he has to fight the smile makings it way to his face.

His sweet thoughts don't last long, however. His brain quickly morphs to the thought of the two of you last night when you whined out how he was too deep.

"I'm too deep, baby?" he teases and your eyes water slightly while you nod, placing your hand on your stomach.

"I feel like you're in my guts right now," you whine and he pushes all the way in before stopping, making you whimper.

"I am in your guts right now," he counters, a smirk on his face.

Then his thoughts quickly morph into the ending of the night when he pulled out and came on your stomach. The way your skin looked covered in his cum had him almost getting hard again.

"What are you thinking about, bun?" your sweet voice pries your boyfriend from his daydream and he blinks at you before his eyes dart down to your stomach again. You smile when you see him look. It's no secret he loves your belly.

"Why do you love my belly so much?" you smile, leaning on the table between the two of you. He mimics your position and also leans on his elbows, leaning into you.

"Why do you love mine?" he counters and you look up at the sky, as if the answer would fall from it, before making eye contact with your pretty boyfriend again.

"Touché," you reply and lean forward slightly before pecking his nose gently.

Even when the two of you are laying together, no matter what position you are laying in, his hands are drawing mindless shapes all over your tummy. If you're standing together in a line and you have a crop top on, his arm is either around your waist from the side or behind, his thumb drawing shapes on your warm skin and causing chills in its wake.

If you have a belly button ring, he often finds himself also fiddling with it randomly, like a fidget toy. He also loves buying you little bellybutton jewelry and of course tops that will show it off nicely.

He especially loves if you wear a crop top and he can see faint marks of himself from the night before. What some other people may see as just a small bruise on your side, he knows is the exact outline of his thumb.

He loves seeing the little red streaks on your stomach or crescent marks in your skin from him scratching at you when things get a bit intense for him to control himself.

I also see him as adoring those funny little baby tees with silly sayings on them. Would definitely buy you a baby tee that says "My bf knows how to fight" or one that says something like "Daddy's Princess" as a joke and then get completely flustered and cute and red if you ever actually wear it asdfhkkkg i love him.

Hyunjin: skirt

Okay I don't know exactly what puts this thought in my head but I just imagined Hyunjin liking a tall girl... like I just KNOW he loves a good set of long pretty legs. Honestly even if they’re short, I imagine he just likes long pretty legs.

So when he sees his lover in a skirt, their legs looking extra long and pretty, he loses his mind. He is definitely the type to absolutely worship every square inch of your body, so it is rare that you can actually wear skirts or shorts. Your thighs are usually littered with hickeys and bite marks that he is sure to replace every time they fade.

It’s honestly surprising that there isn’t an indent of his shoulders on the back of your thighs with how much time he spends with his head between your legs. Of course there ends up being evidence that he was down there.

He had been busy the past week and you guys haven’t been able to spend much time together and if you did, it was just a quick lunch during his break or you bringing him some coffee at the company or studio.

So, when your boyfriend texts you and asks if you want to come to dinner later, you practically jump up and down at the offer. When you’re getting dressed, you find a skirt that you had completely forgotten that you had and slipped it up your thighs.

You put on a cute fur cardigan and your black skirt and some comfy heels. You made yourself look extra pretty, although it would just be you, Hyunjin, and one of his hometown friends having dinner.

When Hyunjin arrived at your house to pick you up, you stepped out your door at the same time he was stepping up your stairs and he literally freezes at the sight of you. The heels you have on do something for him all in their own (we’ll save this thought for a pt 2…) and your legs look extra long in the combination.

You turn, a bright smile on your face and walk towards your pretty boyfriend. His hair has started getting longer and falling in his eyes so when you walk towards him, stopping at the step above him, you tuck his hair behind his ears and press a kiss to his forehead. He leans up and you press your lips gently against his.

His arms wrap around the top of your thighs, just under your butt and he gently lifts you, turns, and places you on the sidewalk.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he smiles against your lips and you can’t help but smile back at your cute boyfriend.

“I missed you,” you reply and he pulls back to look at your face before pressing a kiss to your temple and humming in agreement.

The entire ride to the restaurant, Hyunjin’s hand never leaves your thigh. His fingers subconsciously toy with the hem of your skirt while he tells you about his past few days and tries to catch you up on all the tea.

He doesn’t even notice your physical reaction to his hand accidentally drifting a bit higher as your skirt rides up, due to your wiggling around in your seat. He parks the car and unbuckles his seatbelt before turning his body towards you and placing both his hands on your thighs, the tips of his fingers sliding under your skirt.

He presses his lips to yours again and squeezes your thighs, making you gasp slightly into his mouth. He pulls back and looks at his hands on your thighs before settling back in his seat and getting out the car, quickly circling to open the door for you.

He holds your hand and helps you out of the car before closing the door behind you. He presses his lips to your knuckles quickly before dropping your hand and wrapping his around around your waist, settling on your hip instead.

“I’m so lucky,” he suddenly whispers and you blush. This is something you two often say to each other, both feeling equally as lucky to have each other.

He also loves skirts because of their…easy access. He is definitely the needy type that will just flip your skirt up and pull your panties to the side before fucking the daylights out of you. Whether it’s in the restroom of a restaurant or up against your front door when you’ve barely stepped inside, he likes the thought of being able to get to your pussy whenever he wants.

He loves to lay you back on the bed and eat you out with the skirt pushed up over your belly or laying over his head. He has no problems teasing you and lightly brushing his fingers against your panties at any chance he gets.

He just loves you and your pretty legs and wants to show you!

Han: thigh high socks

Han Jisung! Another one who is a sucker for pretty legs. He thinks that pretty things should be decorated, this includes your thighs.

He didn’t realize that seeing you in thigh high socks would get him going until Halloween came around. You two decided on matching costumes one night and you opted for a corny, overdone option, a sexy nurse and doctor. It was easy enough and the pictures would be cute so you both decided to do it.

Your sexy nurse costumes was complete with a pair of white fishnet thigh highs with red bows on the front of either thigh. Jisung was sat on your bed on his phone when you pulled the socks on and made your way over to your mirror. You pulled on some shoes then went to your vanity to top off your look with the perfect red lipstick.

When you leaned into the mirror, you knocked over some makeup which catches your boyfriend’s attention and he looks up from his phone at you. His view is you from the back, bent into your vanity and those thigh high socks hugging the plush of your thighs perfectly.

His throat ran dry and he gulps deeply before he catches your gaze in the mirror, already looking at him as you rub your lips together.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you tease and he lets out a soft chuckle before grabbing his phone and snapping a picture of you.

“Hey!” You sit up straight and turn to face him, your hands on your hips, “I was joking!” you smile and make your way towards him. When you place a knee on the bed, his eyes drop back down to the lace hugging the top of your legs.

“Mm. I need to update my jacking off material. You looked a little too good bent over the desk with these on,” he grazes his fingers over the bows of your socks then around the lace then over the fishnets. You pull your other leg up on the bed, careful to leave your shoes off the comforter and place your hands around his neck.

“Oh? You like them Dr, Han?” You tease and he lets out another chuckle, looking up at your face again. That damn lipstick wasn’t making it any easier to not want to fuck you right now and forget about the whole Halloween party.

“I like everything you wear. You could come out in a parka or a burlap sack and I would still get hard,” he confesses and turns his head, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“What do you like about them?” You ask, innocence lacing your tone, driving him even crazier.

“I’m thinking about how this material would feel on my cock. Especially when you start begging me to stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead,” he places another kiss, slightly higher up your forearm, “I’m thinking about how this fishnet would feel on either side of my head,” another kiss against the inside of your elbow, then another kiss on your bicep before pulling back to look up at you.

Despite you instigating him originally, you feel yourself turn beet red at his words. He has a dirty, correction: filthy, mouth and he knows exactly how to use it to get you going (in more ways than one).

Jisung loves the way your thighs spill out the top of thigh highs when you sit down. The material barely containing your soft flesh and he just want to bite down on the skin.

If you ever have them on when you two start getting hot and heavy, the socks stay on (bc ur not gay). He rubs himself against the material, sometimes able to cum even if you aren’t there with the help of the sock.

Sometimes, when he’s extra needy, he’ll grab the sock from your hamper or drawer and wrap it around his cock before jacking off. He always feels like a creep afterwards but its the best way he has found to get release when he’s super pent up.

He tries to keep it a secret and you don’t have the heart to tell your cute little perv of a boyfriend that you know. Until, he is going away for a while on tour and opens his suit case to a pair of his favorite thigh highs, the ones from halloween, and a note in your handwriting.

Enjoy, my baby. Send me videos<3

Felix: lace

Okay let me explain. I imagine Felix just being an absolute horny little guy who also enjoys the classics. He LOVES a good set of lingerie. Which slowly turned to him just loving lace. When he sees you in a lace, corset top it doesn’t take much for his imagination to run wild.

Then when you had the audacity to show up to a party with a lace top and leather pants, he thought he was going to have an actual aneurysm. The combination of the leather and lace had him imagining he had just walked into his dream porno, you as the star.

The top was corset style and looked a little too similar to lingerie. When he asked you where you got it from and you leaned into him to whisper that you had ordered it online from a sex shop, he thoughts he was going to cum on the spot.

He could barely keep his hands off of you all night. It only worsened when you had returned to his side after a bout of dancing with some of your friends. His eyes followed a single drop of sweat that rolled down your neck and disappeared down the valley of your breasts and behind your lace shirt. That you ordered…from a sex shop.

When you two had gone shopping and you insisted he come into the dressing room with you, he didn’t think anything of it. You two usually did join each other in fitting rooms and bathrooms visits, call it separation anxiety.

You pulled your shirt over your head and Felix immediately cussed under his breath, making your brow drop to a frown as you threw your shirt to his lap.

“What?” you question and grab the new shirt, pulling it down and turning in the mirror a few times before Felix finally replies to you.

“You’re so fucking hot. Do you realize that? It’s taking everything in my power to not ask you to ride me right here, right now,” he suddenly says and you freeze before slowly turning to face him.

“Oh?” You question, a teasing smirk on your lips as you pull the shirt over your head again and his eyes drop to the black lace bralette again. It doesn’t have much liner and it isn’t helping that he can see your nipples through the bra too. Now that he knew what was under your hoodie, he wouldn’t be able to focus for the rest of your day together.

“Yeah. You know how I get when I see you in lace like this,” his voice is low, cautious that nobody outside the fitting room can hear your conversation. You walk towards him and place both hands on his shoulders.

He immediately leans forward and pops the bra against your skin with his teeth. There’s a light knock on the door and you pull away to continue trying on your clothes.

“Oops. Lets save this for when we get home, mister,” you tease and wink at him before pulling down your shorts, your panties match your bra and he groans again, making you smirk to yourself.

What finally sends him over the edge is when his phone vibrates beside him while he’s on a water break. It’s like you can sense when he’s on break and you always text him at the perfect time.

Sunshine: what do ya think? (: <link>

Felix’s jaw might as well have unhinged with how far it fell. The link took him to a site with a baby blue lingerie set. It was all lace with a few flowers strategically embroidered. He had to take a deep breath and stare at the picture for a while, trying his best to not get hard.

Sunshine: left on read? no likey?

The notification pops up at the tops of his screen and he realizes that he hasn’t replied to you after practically instantly reading your message.

Lixieee: i dont like. i love. i’m hard now. thanks<3

You simply loved the message and placed the order, excited for your new set to come in.

Seungmin: spandex shorts/biker shorts

It isn’t anything crazy and Seungmin swears he isn’t a perv. He just knows his baby is hot and knows what you have the capability of doing to him. He’s just a little obsessed with you.

You two were still best friends when he realized he had a thing for you in these tight little shorts. You had came to his house to just hangout. You weren’t looking too special, opting for some biker shorts and a hoodie and pulling your hair up into a messy updo.

He opens the door and you immediately hold your hand out to him, handing him the coffee you had picked up for him on the way.

“Hey, cutie,” you tease and step into his house before sliding your sneakers off and heading towards the living room. With your back turned, he got the opportunity to sneak a peak at your ass.

The biker shorts you had on left practically nothing to the imagination and he actually thinks he felt his heart stop when you bent over and he could make out the shape of your most private area through the shorts.

Okay maybe he was a perv.

“I like those shorts,” he comments and steps into the room before settling on the couch. You quickly plop down next to him.

“These shorts are a hit,” you comment nonchalantly and he looks over at you, waiting for you to elaborate. You chuckle and take a sip of your coffee.

“I wore these to the gym the other day with when I hit legs with Binnie and he said the same thing,” you reply and Seungmin feels himself clench his jaw at the thought of someone else looking at you the same way he had just been.

And you hit legs with him? Does that mean that he saw you squatting in these tight little shorts. Does that mean that he also saw you bending over the same way he just had? Had Changbin also made out the shape of your sweet cunt the same way he had? He turns away from you again to face the front.

You grab his arm and push it up to the back of the couch, scooting close to him and laying your legs over his thigh that was closest to you.

“What? Jealous?” you tease and Seungmin chuckles humorlessly at the accusation.

“Extremely.” He deadpans and glances over at you, your smile dropping at his confession.

“W-Why is that?” He threw you off with actually confessing to being jealous. You were used to him just teasing you back and you two bickering endlessly but never this.

“Because he got to see what’s mine,” he replies and shrugs and you open your mouth to reply but can’t think of the right words to say as a blush creeps up your neck at his words.

You definitely lose any sense of words when his hand drops to your bare thigh and starts kneading at the flesh. His hand creeps a little closer to your core and your legs fall apart slightly, granting him access. He lets out a laugh at how pliable you’re being and leans forward, setting his coffee on the table in front of you.

“No objections to that statement?” he raises his eyebrows at you and you snap your mouth closed before shaking your head.

“You can’t use your words, pup?” The nickname wasn’t anything new from him but the way his hand was rubbing your upper thigh and the way he is slowly leaning into you had your heart racing even more.

“Kiss me,” you command instead and he complies, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

I.N: his clothes

Maybe it’s his possessive side but when Jeongin sees you in his clothes, his brain goes haywire. Sometimes he thinks you look so cute, especially if the clothes are swallowing you up. But sometimes, it makes him want to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

The first time you wore his clothes, it was completely unintentional. You two had just started dating and hadn’t taken many big steps in your relationship. So it was much to your, and Jeongin’s, surprise when you drunkenly called him while out with your friends.

You were practically begging him to come pick you up because you missed him and he couldn’t help but comply. He pulled up to the bar and you quickly made your way outside and sat down in his warm car. You smelled like straight liquor and vomit and Jeongin’s nose scrunched at the smell before he looked over at you.

“I didn’t throw up. I swear. Some stranger threw up on me and my friends didn’t want to leave yet. Can we go back to your house? I don’t have my keys…” you caught yourself about to ramble and trailed off but Jeongin just giggled at you.

“Of course,” he replies and put the car in drive before making his way to his house. Once you got there you asked if you could take a shower and borrow some clothes and he readily agreed. He sat out some shorts and a t shirt on the sink while you were in the shower and stepped back out to wait on you.

When you entered his room, he had to do everything in his power to not get hard. He had given you one of his comfiest t shirts, which also meant it was huge and it literally went almost down to your elbows.

“Come on, drunky,” he teases and lifts the blanket next to him. You blush and crawl into the bed next to him. He hands you a bottle of water and you take a few sips before handing it back to him and settling into his side.

“I’m sorry. Is this weird for you? If it is, I can go home. I know you want to take things slow but I don’t know how you feel about-”

“Y/n. Sweetheart,” he interrupts you and you snap your mouth shut, waiting for him to continue. He grabs under your chin and leans down, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes his toothpaste on your lips and for some reason, that also gets him going. The thought that if anyone else were to taste your lips, that they would taste like him.

“You look so pretty in my clothes,” he pulls away to say against your lips and you chuckle before leaning in to kiss him once more.

The way that you two got caught in your relationship was actually because of a tiny little detail. It stemmed from the two of you sharing clothes.

He had gotten a custom bracelet made for himself that was literally one of a kind in the world. You had gotten dressed up to go out and forgotten to put on a bracelet at your house so you asked your boyfriend if he could bring you one to make your outfit better. He agreed of course and later when you posted pictures on social media (pc: innie), you had the bracelet on. Stay was quick to zoom in and notice that it was the same custom bracelet that Jeongin usually wore.

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ginkgo-phyta · 7 months

Note

Hotch would definitely give you the princess treatment, and you know what? Jack would too, after seeing his father he knows how to treat a girl right. And the team would definitely tease Hotch, because his son is going to steal his partner from him :)

omg no LITERALLYYY tho like just like omfg alright i got carried away with this and its not even really what you're talking about but listen to me okay LISTENNNNN

tagged spencer reid x reader because i want more people to see this teehee pls dont hate me i have spencer fics yall should read if you havent already but also you should still read this too

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH AARON HOTCHNER AND ITS INFLUENCE ON HIS SON JACK gn!reader, FLUFF, no warnings(?) another informal blurb typa format :P

you and hotch decide together you'd like to date for a while first, take things slower and fully solidify and strengthen your relationship, before you become a part of jack's life. you didn't want jack to get attached to you or write you off too quickly in case life took you in different directions. you didn't know it at the time, but hotch introduced you to jack when he was sure he was going to marry you some day- and soon. he had been so incredibly head over heels in love with you and once you and jack got close, the little guy really got to witness how highly his father regarded you- and just how he showed you it every day. even in the little things. from the way hotch pulled out your chair, held all doors open for you, always kept your favorite drinks and snacks stocked up in the fridge and pantry, never let you open your own car door, the way he made spaces for you in his bathroom and closet without even being asked, and how he always stuck to your weekly dinner date- whether in person or over the phone. to the way his father would look at you, listen intently to whatever you were talking or ranting about, how he'd cup your hands and press quick kisses to them or move any bothersome strands of hair from your face when you'd eat, and how enthusiastic he always was when you and jack would spend time together.

jack was a bit hesitant with you at first, he was a bit older at that point and the quickness with which beth had left his life had admittedly stung him, leaving an ever-present welt behind. but he warmed up to you, appreciative of the way you welcomed him with open arms, never pressured him to spend time with or even like you (letting him accept you at his own pace) and how you clearly were not trying to take the place of his late mother- even many, many years into your relationship with his father. what he loved the most was how you always encouraged hotch to recount stories of haley, put pictures of her in jack's room or wherever else he wanted them, and how you would remind him: "your mother would be so proud of you jack." you would watch old home videos of their old family and jack never failed to notice how you wouldn't ever feel negatively about it. that was really what won him over. he also loved how open you were with both him and his dad- every day you'd say "i love you!" both casually and purposefully. it instilled in the young boy the importance of expressing appreciation, love, and care for others.

before you, hotch was always a just bit emotionally closed off. even when it came to jack he liked to keep himself a bit more reserved. he tried to stay a strong and unwavering inspiration, only wanting to show his son his best face. but once you came into their lives you inspired hotch to open up more than he had the last few years after haley's passing, inspired him to embrace even the "uglier" emotions he felt in life: grief, anger, sadness, and tiredness. it ended up passing onto jack in small ways, allowing him to feel even closer to dad. you became a huge structural post in jack's life. your love for one other inspired him, as he grew up he dreamed of one day having a relationship like yours. he looked forward to being able to treat his significant other the way his father cares for you.

you loved jack as if he was your own, though you never wanted to say that to him for fear of overstepping your role. aaron would always assure you, especially as jack grew older, that his boy felt it. you watched him go from a playful child, to a moody teenager, to a budding adult eager to make his mark on the world. and you were there supporting him the whole way.

you'll spend a lifetime with the both of them and although there will be many funny, loving, or frustrating moments you'll hold in a special place in your mind, there's one memory from when he was still a youngin that you love the most. it was a surprise dinner party at your fancy restaurant, aaron had booked the whole place just for you and the guests to celebrate your engagement and he had enlisted jack's help to plan the whole thing. jack, the bau team, and your friends and family were all there to shower you in love. the most memorable part of the night was the moment everyone sat down for dinner, all around a giant table (possibly multiple tables pushed together). as everyone moved to take their place jack ran so eagerly in front of you to pull your chair out before his father got the chance. you were shocked for a second before bursting out in a melodious laugh- it was so unexpected but you were incredibly moved. "oh, jack, thank you!" your loving, excited, and genuinely appreciative tone made jack's already huge grin grow even wider and more endearing. everyone else had noticed this too and laughed in joy along with you. "oh my god!" "that was so freakin cute" "he did not just do that!" rang out around you. of course aaron noticed, standing in silence for a second, a similar smile mirrored on his face, before he shook his head with a chuckle. as you took you seat, jack made sure to push your chair in just before you sat down fully, diligently executing what he'd studied his father do hundreds of times before. you turned to thank him, but before you could even open your mouth jack moved to take your cloth napkin from the table, shake it open, and carefully place it in your lap. awwws flooded in from all sides of the table

"oh you are just so adorable jack, thank you so much." you said as you pinched his still slightly chubby cheek "you are just the kindest, sir." you playful tone cause jacks entire face to blush and he shyly walked over to take a seat next to you.

"what? you take my job, and now you don't even want to sit next to me?" hotch spoke up from you other side. jack knew his father was joking, but he still bashfully giggled, sinking a bit more into his seat

"you better be careful, hotch," derek spoke up from across the table, motioning to his former boss with a breadstick, "looks like you got some competition there."

everyone broke out into more laughter, especially aaron. in the midst of the hysterics, the once-stoic man's hand crept into your lap to hold your own, thumbing over the back of your hand and the beautiful engagement ring wrapped around your finger. you shared a glance while you both laughed before you looked over to jack. wordlessly, your hand suddenly hopped up to ruffle up the little boy's hair, causing him to scrunch up his nose and giggle even more.

but you didn't have to say anything, your eyes held the truth. love. jack continued to look up at you, feelings of warmth, joy, and safety draped over him like a fuzzy throw, covering him from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. he knew that with you in his life now, besides him and his father, everything would be okay.

A/N: SCREAMING how was this anon? sorry i didn't delve into the team teasing hotch more bc these thoughts were swimming in my head and i NEEDED to get them down perhaps i could do another post of just teasing quotes if that's something you'd like! i got a few ideas swimmin already teehee i hope you enjoyed my love!!

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader

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jeffsfavoriteknife · 1 year

Text

Jeff x Jealous! Male reader

Includes: Jealousy(obviously), gay shit, public sex, use of the word malewife

You glared at him from the corner of your eye as he sat with what he called his friend, jealousy eating you alive. Everytime you saw them together it ate at you, you knew he had told you that they were just good friends but you felt he was lying to you, Jeff was known for lying and it just seemed so cut and dry that he was into the guy. You stood up from the coffee table you sat at suddenly, slightly startling the guy next to Jeff as you walked off, not wanting to see him for a while, he was fucking with you, taunting you, and yet you did nothing except walk away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder tightly grip you and turn you around to none other than Jeff. “Mind tellin me what the fuck your problem is?” You glared at him before pulling away ‘you know what my fuckin problem is’ he angrily huffs, clearly fed up with your shit as he shoves you against the wall “i already told you im not fuckin with that guy, even if i was whats it any of your damn business?” This caused you to hesitate on answering, leading him to catch on “no fucking shit..” he griped your jaw and forced you to look up at him, his cold yet dangerous eyes staring back

“you could have just said somethin, i will admit your pretty fucking cute and look quite breedable” you clutched the bottom of your shirt tight ‘the fuck is that supposed to mean??? I cant be bred you fuckin idiot’ he gets closer to you, clearly towering over you as he smirks “nah i definitely could, youd make a cute malewife, i know damn well you got skirts and knee high socks in your place, ive seen you wear them once or twice” face bright red with embarrassment you rolled your eyes ‘of fucking course youd be the one to watch people through their houses’ he pulled you to him, letting out a dark chuckle “i can tell that your not pissed about it tho” he eyed your pants as you yanked your shirt down more to cover yourself “let me help” he didnt give you time to respond before yanking your pants down along with your boxers ‘JEFF! we are in public! Someone is gonna say something, are you insane???’ “Absolutely” he didnt hesitate to turn you around and position you so you were basically offering yourself to him ‘wait wait wait! I havent,,done this before’ his eyes glinted at this as he gripped onto your thighs, yanking his own pants down “you have no idea how fucking cute that is to me, ill be the first AND last one to ruin you” he pressed himself into you, your tightness causing him a bit of trouble but nothing a good old slam wont fix.

This made you cry out in both pain in pleasure, one one side the burn was excruciating, on the other hand he was rubbing right against your prostate causing your cock to throb. He picked you up by your thighs and pounded into you mercilessly, wanting to hear every ounce of noise your mouth could make for him, he wanted to RUIN you. You cried out, mumbling his name along with incoherent sentences but he loved every moment of it, you crying out his name making him go even harder. Your back rubbing against the wall was no doubt going to leave marks but you were hooked on his cock and couldnt bother to ask him to stop, you were basically drooling while the man you swooned over for so long wrecked you. You tightened your grip on him as you came, the entire time you did he was watching your cock twitch with every spurt, yeah, he wasnt gonna let you go. He dug his nails into your thighs, leaving marks in its wake as he bit into your shoulder, drawing blood and pumping you full of him, overfilling you to where some was spilling out, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head in pure bliss

(Yeah its short but its 3 am and since im a slut for jeff im allowed to write short lil stories that is just sex w hardly any plot teehee)

-🖤🔪

#creepypasta x male reader #jeffxmalereader #jeff the killer x male reader #nsfwficyouhavebeenwarned #nsfwfic #nominorsthanks #gayshitforya

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heartbreakgrill · 5 months

Text

Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 7; "Stay here, honey."

a/n: tehe hi friends! we havent spoken much so...the tortured poets department was literally written for daisy and oliver, that's all i gotta say. i listened to i can fix him (no really i can) and guilty as sin this entire writing sesh. i missed yall tho! i feel like i havent written in 5ever. anyways enjoy friends :)

“Jesus, just pick it up.”

Oliver squinted his tired eyes at his phone screen. His body was twisted around, his neck arching to try to read the contact name that was flashing across his screen. This was the fourth time they had tried calling him. I was snug against his side, occupying the rest of his strength. I went to move away a bit, just to allow him some room to answer the phone without being contorted like a pretzel.

He felt me tug back from his hold and immediately set the phone back onto his bedside table. The screen was faced up. It was probably just me, me and my stupid naivety- but I was touched that he set it that way. My stupid belief that I meant just as much to him as he did to me made it so. Trust, love. Two feelings I had when I was with him that were now more familiar than the anger and fear I used to be consumed by.

Oliver latched his other hand, now free, around my back. His fingers splayed out around my hip, nose nuzzling into the bare crevice of my neck. I sunk into his body, an anchor sinking into cold, salty sea water.

“Eh, fuck ‘em. They’re just taking time away from me and my flower.”

I snorted at the pet name, though I secretly (not so-secretly) loved. “You’re so cringey sometimes.”

“Cringey?” He reeled his chin back, glaring down at me with those icy hazel eyes. “Girl…”

“Girl!” My mouth widened as the word so easily fell through his lips. I fought against giggles that were winning. “Who are you? Where’s Oliver?”

His laughter was deep, steady, chest rocking beneath my head, “Shh, don’t tell anyone. I’m his twin brother, Isaac. Oliver is on a top secret mission. He said you’ll always be in his heart, but he must go, fulfill his duty as a spy.”

“What the fuck,” I stated, nuzzling my head in bare chest in hopes the escape his jokes. I let out a small sigh as I fed into his humor, “You don’t have to lie to me, Isaac. I know he’s off with his secret girlfriend. Just, if you can speak to him, let him know that I won’t cry over him. I won’t miss him. Besides, his twin brother’s kinda…hot.”

“Secret girlfriend? What are you even talking about?”

Maybe I wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t trained to read body language. Maybe it would’ve gone over my head if I didn’t know him, the very shell of him, so well. I could have looked past it, could’ve turned it over in my head, blurred the lines, pretended like I didn’t know the way his eyes flickered, disruption taking over his hazel pupils, as he glanced, so minutely, to his cell phone.

And, maybe it was me. Maybe I was really that insecure. Maybe I was stupid. Maybe I’d never really learn to trust him, based on the entirety of our situation.

I think Oliver noticed the flicker that tilted at the corners of my lips because his face fell, just a bit. And he rushed to cover it up, “There is no secret girlfriend, darling. I promise you that.”

And he did what he was so subconsciously genius at- he manipulated the situation, moved on from it, by wrapping me up, pressing the tip of his nose to mine, and saying, “You are my one and only, Daisy. The only one I want. Need.”

I was stupid, like I always was, and kissed him.

We continued on that morning, laying around like we always did, in the early hours of the dawn, long before anyone would wake up. They had a show later, but Oliver didn’t care about getting rest. He wanted- needed, he claimed- to be with me. I guess his idea of resting involved fucking me and kissing me and feeding me with his ownership.

He always asked the strangest questions, always reminiscent of that first night on the roof. He asked like he was trying to memorize the nocks on my bones, prophesied my future in a romantically dramatic way. It was usually when we were laying around like this, silence comfortable in our breaths.

Today’s was formed as more of a statement, curious intonation, “Tell me more about your mom.”

It took me by surprise, like he almost always did. It forced me to slow my own thoughts for a moment, articulate my memories, and find delicate words. Mostly, I wondered, “Why do you wanna know that?’’

Oliver was forced to think now, but he didn’t have much of a response, “I don’t know. I was just…wondering, I guess. I mean, you’ve told me your dad’s an ass, but you had to have gotten your beauty somewhere.”

I knew he used that compliment in a much more meaningful way than the surface level allowed it to be understood. So, I blushed, tilted my head, “Well, I could talk for hours about her. Don’t want your ears to bleed.”

“Nonsense, my love. Your voice is music to my ears.”

I nuzzled my nose to his cheek. Then, I mustered up the courage to fight my sadness and began with, “She was…literally everything to me and Sam. She…dad left when I was 5. Sam, 12. Mom was, like…30? I think? So young. She opened up her own flower shop not long before he left. But, it wasn’t nearly enough money for us to live off of. So, we, like, moved into the tiny ass apartment that was above the shop. It smelled like Chinese food because of the restaurant. And, sometimes, that mixed with the flowers. And my allergies are terrible! And, not to mention, mom smoked. So…it was rough. Sam and I shared a room, so we were together more than we should have been. We were…we were so mean to mom. We, like…took out dad’s absence on her, the fact that we had to live in this shitty apartment. Meanwhile, she was just…this ball of light. She’d stay up till 3am, in the shop, blasting Taylor Swift, arranging flowers, writing this silly little poem book she hid beneath her mattress and thought I never found and read. She picked up shifts at the Chinese restaurant literally every day. She never took a day off, not even on holidays. God, she must have been fucking miserable. But…no matter what…she was, just, like…kind. I think…no, nevermind.”

I sniffled and cut my own words off, teary eyes shutting. I didn’t want to be all sappy and emotional in front of Oliver, especially not at this time of day. As I tried to steady my breathing, Oliver’s arms tightened around me.

“Hey,” he swept a hand to my cheek, drawing my eyes to his, “Daisy…keep going. Please.”

“I think Sam really misses her. He…he’d help her out, with chores, making dinner, getting the trash cleaned up when she’d be overwhelmed and forget about it all. And at the time he resented her. But, he was a teenager. He didn’t know any better. But he beats himself up over it. I just…wish he’d be kinder to himself.”

“And what about you?” Oliver whispered once I had let a pregnant pause of silence go.

I looked up at him, struck by the question, like always, “What…about me.” My eyes drifted as my mind wandered, “I…I’d sneak downstairs, far too often, watch her from the doorway while she danced, sang, drank cheap wine, tossed flower petals all around. She’d always catch me. I was a noisy kid. But, she’d never punish me. She’d grab my little hand, drag me into the room with her, play all our favorite Taylor songs.”

Oliver cracked a joke which burst a ray of sunshine through the sadness layering itself overtop the room, “God, now I feel terrible for making fun of you.”

I punched him in the stomach, closed fist splaying out into a gentle palm on his belly. “You should. She meant a lot to me and my mom. I…she’s why Sam got into music. She had this- this beautiful voice. She’d write songs, along with her poems, and record them on this tape player.”

“Where is it now? Back at your apartment?”

“No,” I shook my head, “at hers. We never really cleaned it out. Sam still pays the lease.”

“And the flower shop?”

“A stupid fucking smoothie bar. I was really hoping one of us would take it over, run it, keep her alive. But…it’s just not feasible. Too expensive.” I’d always felt guilty for that- not investing in mom’s memory. I felt like I’d buried her back in my hometown and sealed shut whatever conscious thoughts I had of her in her grave with her rotting body.

It was just too much. She gave us everything and the world failed her, killed her. Every ounce of light that had been in her eyes was completely spoiled by the time the cancer had taken over.

The thought made me shutter. Oliver noticed and brushed a soothing hand through my hairline. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“No, no,” I tapped his stomach, “we should. I never really…never really mention her to anyone. This is nice.”

Oliver kissed my temple sweetly, “I agree. So, tell me about these late night dance parties you’d have.”

And, so, we spent the next few hours talking about my mom. Her smile, the inky flowers she had wrapped around her elbow, the way she’d let me stand on her toes while we waltzed across the shop.

We talked and talked. I cried and Oliver wiped my tears. He told me he’d give Taylor Swift another try.

And I found myself falling further.

Then, it was suddenly nearing 8am, when I knew for sure my brother’s alarm would be going off. So, we finished quickly with whatever we’d been doing. Then, Oliver helped me get dressed, which took much longer than it should’ve with two people pulling one person’s shirt over her head. It was because he stuck my head through, then dipped his head to my stomach, tracing my abdomen with wet kisses.

I giggled and shrunk away from the ticklish feeling. He laughed and chased me with his strong hands, encasing my hips with his splayed fingers. I tried pushing his touch away, writhing like a worm, but he was able to plant more kisses onto my skin.

Then his phone started ringing again.

Our movements paused. I slowly pulled the shirt the rest of the way down, meeting his eyes as my vision was cleared from that blockage. His hands moved, passively, to his sides. His body language, that distant, distracted look in my eyes burned.

“Oliver,” I accidentally whispered, then, “just answer it.”

He knew. He knew it was a challenge, a probe at the situation. He knew I was testing him. And, if he failed, if he refused to pick up the phone and answer the call, I’d run out.

I think that- losing me, watching me walk away- was just something he could not deal with right now. So, he made up some excuse while slinking over to the phone, “Probably just someone from the label. Or a stupid spam caller. No big deal.”

I was still facing away from him, still small, shrunken in on myself, when I said, to no one but the air, “Please.”

He didn’t hear me. “Hello?”

I turned around to face him, watching the muscles on his face carefully, paying attention to how he reacted to whoever was on the line. After a moment, he pressed the speaker button, and held the screen towards my vision.

“Spam,” Oliver scrunched his nose as he hung up.

Intuition, maybe jealousy, nibbled at my skin like some flesh-eating piranha. I gave one shake of my head, easily falling back into the casual, comfortable air that was routine between us. I smiled, a joke on my lips to push us past the awkwardness, “So, what kind of top secret mission is Oliver on? Drugs? Or…war?”

“Oh, all of the above!” He dramatically replied.

“Well, you tell Oliver that I need to be getting back to my own bed,” I tapped his chest, awaiting him to let his arms loose.

But, he squeezed tighter, even wrapping his occupied hand around me, “No! Please! Stay!”

“Won’t you ever get tired of me taking up space in your bed?” I giggled at his hair, tickling my neck.

He hummed a rejection, “Never. This is, like, our own secret sanctuary. Here, in this room, we can be whoever we want.”

I focused on his eyes, touching my nose to his. Then, he kissed me before mindlessly reaching behind himself to set his phone back up.

Face down.

I felt like throwing up.

The feeling was worse when I was alone, leaving his apartment like I had just signed an NDA. I tried my hardest not to overthink things, but considering our precarious relationship, this was a very difficult thing to do.

Somewhat luckily, Oliver had been normal the rest of our time together, easy-going, non-suspicious. That’s how someone who didn’t have a secret girlfriend should act. So, why couldn’t I be satisfied with that?

(Why did he place his phone face down? Why had the look in his eyes told me something different, something worse-?)

It would have made so much sense to find out that he did, in fact, have a girlfriend. After all, he’d been telling me all summer how unavailable he was. This would make so much more sense than the mindless, kind of shitty excuses he had for not being able to commit to me. Was it, then, my fault for getting involved with him? For fucking a taken man? Perhaps I’d pushed myself onto him, forcing the situation. No, no, it couldn’t have been. After all, he’d sought me out numerous times.

And, if this were the case, I was supposed to then end things? As soon as possible? Find her social media, send a fucking hey girly text message, throw myself off of a bridge in the process?

The way he kissed me when I left, the way he whispered, “I’ll miss you. You should come to the show tonight. My shining star. You’d make it all worth it. Until then, beautiful,” against my cheek, his eyelashes fluttering against my skin- there was no way I was the side piece. He was too invested in me.

Maybe she wasn’t real. Maybe he didn’t have a girlfriend. No, really- he just couldn’t have a girlfriend. It felt impossible. He was too…too caring, too gentle with me. He treated me so delicately it…just-

“Shit! Sorry!”

I had not been watching where I was going once I left Oliver’s room, which was extremely irresponsible of me. Anyone of our friends, my brother for Christ’s sake, could be walking these halls, on their way to visit the very person’s I’d just vacated. It was worse this week because Oliver’s room was on a different floor than everyone else’s. I had no way of excusing myself if I was caught up here. All I could do was be careful and hide when I heard someone familiar.

Yet, again- I was fucking stupid. I was careless. Mindless.

And I had run right into Adam.

“Daisy!” He looked up from his phone, still safe in his clutches because I’d only knocked into his left shoulder. “Shit, sorry. I’m a clutz.”

I forced out a chuckle, trying to seem chill, like I hadn’t just been having sex- 3 times- by his best friend, boss, lead singer of his band, my brother’s best friend.

“Oh, hey, Adam! No worries! I have plenty of bruises to prove I’m even more of a mess. What’re you up to?”

If I could gain control over the situation, be the one to ask the questions first, maybe then I could worm my way out of it without being exposed.

Then, a distant, deadly memory blared through my skull like a freight train. Last week, backstage. Adam, telling me where Oliver was, encouraging me to go to him. A knowing smile.

Fuck. This hole was deeper than I could ever crawl out of. Maybe he- maybe…maybe. Maybe he forgot-

“Daz…” he knew. He knew. Adam knew. He tilted his head, flicked his brows, gave a smile that suggested I just give up the facade already.

Before he could go on, I interrupted him, “Listen- just…please, just…no lectures, okay? I can handle myself. I know you guys all think Oliver’s this, like, bad person. But, he’s not. And, like- even if he is, I can handle it. I got it. I don’t need to be told what to do or warned or treated like a child. I- Oliver’s…it’s, just…you guys don’t know, okay? We have…I know it seems, like shitty, to you, probably. But…it’s really good. We have fun and, and we like each other…and that’s all that matters. Your opinions don't matter.”

As I went on, Adam’s face contorted into one of confusion, shock. Like he wasn’t computing the information I was messily throwing his way. “Daz, I…are you guys not just hooking up? I thought- I thought you were just fucking?” He let out a breathy chuckle, one of slight uncomfortability.

“It’s…yeah, like…I can see why you might think that, but…we have feelings for each other. And we’re not together or anything, but…we’re…we’re working on it.” For insisting that I didn’t want to be lectured like a child, I sure was speaking like one, shrinking in on myself, fiddling with my fingers all shy.

“So, please,” I held my hands up all defensive, like he’d lurch forward and attack me or something.

But, Adam simply sighed. He pocketed his phone, crossed his arms, eyeing me like some art exhibit. I didn’t know what he was going to say and, based on the silence he gave me, I didn’t really want to. He was calculating his response. He was probably going to fucking lecture me.

“Daisy, I…” aaand, here we go. It was me and Max in the elevator, all over again. It was Sasha, across from me at the breakfast table.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do. That’s just not my place, no matter how much you mean to all of us, how much I think of you like, fuck, like a little sister. You are an adult. You can make your own decisions, dude.”

I breathed out the air I was holding. It was a relief, a sentiment I needed to hear. I didn’t care if I was being stupid- I just wished people would listen to me for once and let me do what I wanted.

“But.”

I shut my eyes, a bit tighter, longer than a blink took, in an attempt to ground the anger that was growing in my fingertips. “But, what?” My words were short, scornful.

“But,” Adam sighed again, “I just want you to be happy. I’ve watched you, all summer, try to prove yourself. To Sasha, to Max, to me. To your brother, especially. And, worst of all, Oliver.”

“It makes me so disappointed to see somebody like you have such little self worth. To see you dilute yourself for others. You are…so kind. So beautiful. So pointed and smart and sure of yourself. But, you hate it. You hate that you’re like that. You want to turn yourself into some version of you that just doesn’t fit. Some girl who’s edgy, some girl who’s laid back and doesn’t care what happens. That’s just not you, Daisy. You are intense. And that’s good! You’re passionate, you know what you want. You just…you need to believe you’re worth those wants. Stop doubting your abilities to make it happen. Stop doubting that you deserve it. Just grab it.”

I hadn’t expected to be so humbled. His words were…truer than any cheesy line any therapist had sold to me for $200. It knocked the wind out of me, forcing me to take a step back, literally. I guarded myself from the rush of the tornado, an arm wrapped over my stomach, one nervously rubbing my neck.

What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?

“I’m…sorry,” I whispered in response. It was all I could think to say.

“Don’t say sorry to me,” Adam touched my shoulder, “say it to yourself. You deserve the entire world. And I hope you accept that soon. This shit with Oliver will suck the life out of you.”

All I could think to do next was toss my arms around his shoulders, clutching him to my body like a warm blanket. He hugged me back, just as tight.

After only a few moments, we pulled apart. Neither of us said anything else. Adam simply touched my head, lovingly offering me this brotherly smile, before continuing his way down the hall.

I finally made my way to the elevator, one singular thought on my mind: my own self worth.

Adam had been so shockingly correct. I…

I knew it, too. I’d known it this whole time, only making myself and thought smaller in order to make room for Oliver. I couldn’t keep doing that. I needed to prioritize my own worth while loving him.

Loving him.

I needed to…

We couldn’t keep going like this.

I loved him.

And, from the way he held me, kissed me…the lyrical remedies he spoke to me…he loved me.

He loves me.

I’d confront him about this intuitive feeling.

Tonight.

–

“And this one I got when we were in Australia last year. I had this idea of getting ink everytime we hit a new city. But it got kind of expensive. Plus, we’re always so busy now that it’s, like, do I wanna eat or get a tattoo?”

“Get a tattoo, obviously,” Sam scoffed from the couch, a hint of tease within his tone. He scrolled mindlessly on his phone, barely a part of the conversation, just a nuisance, really.

Ronnie met my eyes and rolled her gaze, “Anyways-“

I giggled at the interaction before returning my line of sight to her arm. She pointed upon another piece of art inked onto her skin, diving into the backstory for that specific moment in time. Though it looked, to any passerby, that she was simply splattered with random images, doodles, animals, symbols- there was meaning to each and every piece on her body.

Tonight’s show had been postponed until tomorrow due to the monstrous thunderstorm that knocked out the power on that side of the city. With half the town closed down and plenty of free time now on our hands, Ronnie, Sam, and I found ourselves in our hotel room. We had been laying around for the majority of the afternoon, random topics on our minds.

I was killing time until I could chase Oliver down in his room, make my big stupid love confession.

Having admired Ronnie’s tattoos for a while, I was glad to finally have some extra time to ask her about all of them. It was always nice to get to talk to her, especially this in-depth, about most anything. She was intelligent and, frankly, hilarious.

She finished telling me the story about the horseshoe around her elbow. Then, before she continued down her left arm, she paused, another thought having intruded her concentration, “Daz.”

I tilted my head in recognition of my name, encouraging her to go on. She gave a little grin, like she had some sort of coy idea floating around in her head, “You don’t have any tattoos? Right?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I definitely want some. Honestly, I get a little nervous,” I sheepishly admitted to what was holding me back.

Ronnie’s expression positively grew. I understood, based on the context clues and the way she peered over at me, what she was getting at now.

“Half the city is out of power,” I raised my brows at her. I wasn’t opposed to the idea- I, myself, even had a little smile itching at my lips. I was just…a little scared, to be honest. I hated needles, like any average person did. Plus, the idea of something so permanent on my skin terrified me. What would I even get?

“I know a guy. He’d come to us.”

“I don’t know what I’d get! I can’t do last minute things like this. I’ll regret it forever,” I giggled, though what I was saying was true.

Ronnie sat up, grasping my hands in hers. She clutched on, begging from her knees on the bed beside me, “That’s the best way to get a tattoo. Get something stupid, something you don’t even know if you like, so you can regret it and hate it until you finally decide to love it! Plus, what a memory we’ll make, Daz! We’ve barely gotten to do anything together this summer, yet you’ve become like a sister to me. We have to do it!”

Sam came out of the bathroom, face half-covered in shaving cream, razor dangling between his fingertips. He met my gaze as I turned my head towards him, a relaxed, pleased look on his brows. “Daz…”

“Sam..” I returned his tone, awaiting his criticism, his claims of me being too good-two-shoes to follow through.

His brows rose more, “Daz! Come on! You have to!”

“Sam, really? I thought you of all people would hate this idea! You really think I should do it?” I was shocked, to say the least. Where was his chidness? His disapproval? The daunting argument always between us?

Nowhere to be found. It was like character development, magically morphing itself before my eyes.

“You have to! You said yourself, this summer is supposed to be about letting go, having fun, being dumb. So far, I haven’t seen you let go and be dumb at all. So, you have to check those off your list! What better way to do that than by getting an impulsive tattoo?” He pointed.

If only he knew just how dumb I’d been this entire time.

I think he’d have killed me if he found out even just a shred of the truth.

He was right, anyway. What I thought was letting go, not caring- it wasn’t. And I knew that now. It was exactly what Adam had been telling me.

Oh, well. Sam would soon know the truth, once Oliver and I talked through the relationship. I’d deal with that hill after the mountain.

Everything between me and Oliver was out of my control- yet, I was clutching to the situation with white knuckles.

The idea of a tattoo was a distraction, a shred of proof, to myself, that I could control something. That I could genuinely let go of fate for a moment or two.

Besides, I’d always hear that tattoo therapy was the best kind of way to get through shit.

“Fuck it.”

So, there I sat, still in my pajamas, fuzzy socks on my feet, on the edge of my hotel bed, arm propped up on Ronnie’s friend Frank’s stand he’d brought with him.

I didn’t know what I was getting. Ronnie convinced me to let her pick something out, but I only let her do so if Sam had approved it first. The giddy expression on his face and the squeeze around my shoulders that he gave me signaled that it was a good pick.

My knee was bouncing. Anxiety that I more than expected filtered through my system like a poison. I steadied my breathing, focused on the fidget ring I wore on my left hand. Frank was setting everything up on this collapsible tablet he’d unpacked from this wagon he stepped into the room with. Ronnie and Sam talked his ear off, laughing over old memories they all shared. I didn’t even know my brother knew this guy, but I guess he had this entire life I didn’t know about in the first place.

I kept to myself, fit with the quiet introduction I offered and the stress that bled off of my skin in droplets of sweat.

more pre tattoo shit

“You love it?” Ronnie stood behind me in the mirror,

cutest poolside

“What the fuck!” Max bounded through the door. He had a Sleep Token bucket hat on his hair and I nearly snorted at how goofy it looked on his head.

But, any tease I wanted to prod him with was curbed as he brought his complaints further into the hotel room. He spotted me after looking over the rest of the habitants. His offended expression didn’t lessen, though, like I thought it would once he fell into his usual routine of laughter and flirts. Instead, when he approached me, towering over my lounged sprawl across my bed, he noticed the black ink pooling beneath the dermal-wrap on my forearm. His brows shot up underneath the rim of the bucket hat that I was beginning to grow just a little jealous of.

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t gotten into the boys’ music ever since the show. But I’d never admit that to any of them. Especially not my brother, who would’ve acted like the snarkiest prick because of his incessant need to be right, even though he was usually quite wrong.

“No fucking way!” Max climbed onto the bed beside me, crawling across the messy sheets by his knees. He stopped beside me and grasped my wrist in his hands.

The pull gently lurched me forward, forcing me to sit up. I dropped my phone to the bed beside me as Max dipped his head low, examining my new tattoo. I giggled at his wonderment.

“You got a tattoo! Without me! What the fuck! Daz, I’m hurt!” Max pouted, meeting my eyes with the puppy dog expression sinking in his brown ones.

Adam, Cyrus, and Oliver had shuffled into the room. The former two latched onto the tattooist’s conversation with my brother and Ronnie. They started bouncing ideas off of him as quick as one could blink. I wondered where they thought they could fit more ink on their already crowded skin.

Meanwhile, Oliver wasn’t being shy with how obvious he was, peering towards Max and I like we were a museum attraction. But, I was probably the only one to notice how his gaze first latched onto Max’s fingers, gripping my arm. Then, he moved his attention to my tattoo, trying to make out its shape from the distant angle at which he stood.

I felt it now, more than ever, since I’d confirmed the feelings in my gut and let them rise to the surface. Just looking at him, I knew it…I loved him so fucking much.

Though Oliver had averted his expression, his point of view, I knew what that first glance had been. I knew that burn in his gaze, the sickening claim in his pupils. Jealousy. So sickly sweet and insecure.

Suddenly self aware, if only because of that strange understanding I had of him, I slipped my hand from Max’s. I pulled my knees in front of my chest which expanded the distance between us. Though the movement was light, Max noticed it like noticed his own breaths.

His words stuttered for a moment, fading away as the proof settled in the room, “How’d you deci- decide….on…” He filtered his look from my face then over his shoulder, at Oliver. I had peered at the latter for a moment too long, a gaze which was easily noticed by my friend.

“On it,” Max’s tone fell off. Oliver didn’t meet his eye, his gaze latched onto my tattoo still. What had been an observational moment for Oliver turned into an avoidance of Max’s confrontation.

I was seeing through the smog now, the rose colored glasses just a bit dimmer than they had been before. And Oliver looked…he looked ashamed. Ashamed that Max was finding out, or ashamed that he had been with me? I would soon find out.

Max glanced back at me. I followed the curves on the sheets with a distanced glaze behind my lids, barren all the same. Then, Max looked to his friend again.

He waited for someone to say something. But neither of us would wave a white flag, nor would we confess to the guilty sin. My plan had been to tell Oliver how I felt, then tell everyone if I needed to.

And I didn’t really want to. Especially not Max. I felt like I’d betrayed his trust.

Max sighed, sitting up a bit straighter. He dropped a gaped, “Oh,” before pulling himself off of the bed, becoming a part of everyone else’s momentum.

My body paused, Oliver and I tangled in the poison ivy on the cream colored wallpaper behind me. He didn’t look at me, he didn’t breath, he didn’t do anything. He just stood there, anxiety bleeding off his healed scars like me.

I hadn’t expected him to jump onto the bed, proclaim his love for me, and tell the judgemental town folk that they just didn’t understand Romeo and Juliet. But, something other than his quiet treason would have been everything to my jittery frame.

I would have appreciated it if he had, at least, told Max to forget about it. If he would have shoveled some excuse off the tip of his tongue, defended me, us, the stupid love affair we thought was getting us somewhere.

But he didn’t.

He just fucking stood there, like he always did.

It made the confidence Id just built up waver a bit.

I was too anxious to really do anything, either. I couldn’t find the nerve to stand on my own two feet, let alone pull Max aside and try to excuse our indiscretions. The room was suffocating as the stress further settled in.

Max knew. Max knew.

He knew.

The cat would tear itself out of the bag any day now if I couldn’t get it under control today.

It was only a matter of a ticking time bomb. When would the seconds run out? When would the explosion shatter my skull?

I thought about running out of the room, tossing myself off the balcony.

But before I could find the strength to get my footing on the carpet of the hotel room floor, someone was saying my name. Someone was dragging me into a conversation, turning the room’s energy onto me and Oliver’s sad, pathetic, bubble of shame, anxiety, and ruthless obsession.

I snapped out of my fragile little frame like the chill girl that I was and answered the question Sam had asked;

“Do you remember mom’s joke? About the flowers?”

I rubbed my dried lips together until they morphed easily into a sweet smile. The anxiety was pushed back down, like it always was, as I played my old, now forgotten role, “Which one? She had that book behind the counter. She harassed customers with it. Said she’d been a comedian in an alternate timeline, but I don’t think so.”

Sam rolled his eyes gleefully. The room shared a laugh at the thought of some eclectic woman, chasing customers out of her flower shop with a thrifted joke book before her eyes. I remember one time she tripped over a pot and nearly fell onto the concrete floor, already sprinkled with petals and cut-off flower stems. She caught herself, but fell to her knees with laughter. Sam rolled his eyes from behind the counter, where he’d been doing homework.

But, I could see myself, 10, braided plaits in my hair, scurrying over from my seat at the window. I abandoned my book, something I never did, to bask in my mom’s joyous laughter, something I missed more than air these days.

I wonder what Oliver thought of this story, now knowing what he knew. I wanted to look for him, for a smile. But I kept staring straight, at my brother.

“I know, but it was, like- it was the one about the photos and the camera. Something, like…” he racked his brain, concentration on his blond brows. “Helping..plants?”

“Helping the plant photosynthesize!” I straightened up as the punchline lurched from the depths of my memories.

Sam and I laughed, louder than the others possibly could, as we shared a sacred vision, as blurry as my eyes, as fleeting as the smell of our mom’s perfume. She loved that joke.

I could do with a little bit of her humor, now more than ever.

The things she’d say, if she could see me now…

Regardless, I think she’d have liked Oliver.

“Well, don’t bother telling the joke,” Ronnie snickered, patting Sam’s shoulder.

I noticed the intensity of his bone, from just the longer of her fingers on his clothed-skin. But he easily hid that before it became obvious. I recognized that flinch…But my brain was too busy to really memorize the interaction, let alone evaluate it.

“You spoiled it!” Ronnie drew another laugh from the crowd.

The joking continued, though the topic moved away from our mom. My thoughts lingered on her, as Adam moved to the tattoo station, the artist having found a spare spot on his shoulder to put some symbol I couldn’t make out.

My attention turned to my arm, to the burning ink settling its way into the layers of my derma. Two thin flowers, stems rooted in nothing but my pink skin, no soil in sight, just the garden of my body. The petals shaped out the delicate curve of the pair of daisies, my mom’s initials written out to the left of the small bouquet.

I looked up when I felt someone’s gaze on my face. It was Sam, watching me admiring my tattoo with this awestruck way that only a brother who loved his sister could appear.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt the urge to break the distance between us. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him tightly against me. He didn’t hesitate to embrace me, even tighter. When he pulled apart, he pressed a kiss to my hairline.

“I love you, Sam ham.”

He punched my shoulder.

I was so scared to tell him about Oliver, though I was now realizing it would have to happen eventually. Adam’s advice- unsolicited, sure- had given me so much clarity. I was running, so much, so far, on broken ankles. Running from the truth, from myself.

I couldn’t anymore.

I went to say something else, but a phone started ringing in the room somewhere. It wouldn’t have been too halting if, when I passively looked over my shoulder, it hadn’t been Oliver’s cell.

He tugged it from his pocket, curiously reading the contact across the screen. As always, he denied the call and stuck it back in his pocket. He’d told me before that he thought it rude to answer it in front of others. Yet, as soon as he put it away, it began ringing again.

He went to deny it, again, when Cy called out a tease from his seat on the couch. “Dude, just go outside and answer it. Could be someone important.”

“It’s not,” Oliver muttered, denying it.

It was ringing. Again.

“Your mom?” Sam inquired, brows furrowed.

I knew Oliver’s mom didn’t call often, a small detail he’d told me once in a fleeting conversation about his family, a set of people he didn’t really identify himself with if only because of the distance between them all.

So, when she did call, he’d always take it. Couldn’t be her, but I couldn’t vocalize this knowledge.

Oliver shook his head, confirming my suspicion. Everyone else that I knew he spoke to was in this room.

Spam, probably.

Oliver denied the call. It was ringing before he could hide it away, shut it off, hell- throw it out the window.

Oliver huffed, loudly. Sam snickered, then, a knowing chuckle that told me he knew something I didn’t.

“Ooo,” Sam took a few steps towards his friend, who was still seated on the couch. He peered over Oliver’s shoulder, who quickly hid the phone. “That tells me all I need to know.”

“Shut up, dude,” Oliver’s eyes rolled over mine, shortly, quickly, ashamedly.

This was, really, where things did start to fall apart, if I had to pick a singular moment in time and stamp it.

This was it. The end of it all. My demise.

Our fate finally crawling from our throats.

Where I thought I had control, where I thought I knew exactly how to handle the situation, cure our disease…

There were cells multiplying beneath our pale skin.

Max, sat on the couch now, stood to his feet with a sense of urgency. He met my eyes as I glanced at him, right before things clicked in my head, right before Sam opened his mouth. It was like he could see the future, his intuition screeching like a siren. Once the bomb dropped, I noticed the panic in Max’s eyes and looked back to my brother, towards Oliver, who gazed at me again, as fleeting as that final look was.

“Ah, it’s your little girlfriend. Knew you two would get back together. How is Fiona these days? Still annoying as ever?” Sam seemed amused by the moment.

He was so unaware of the drama layered just underneath the careless air he easily existed in, so unaware of the panic in my body as I fled from the room. I made no attempt to make myself seem casual or fucking chill.

Max didn’t hesitate to follow me. He was on my heels, hot as the summer air just outside of the windows.

But, I ignored him as he called out my name.

The air in my lungs was burning, like I was going up in flames from the inside out. Maybe it was that pain, or maybe it was the choking tears flooding down my cheeks, but- my vision was blurring. I was dizzy. Short-lived muscle memory is the only thing that got me to the elevator doors. But, I couldn’t find the button. I slammed my fingers against the wall, only feeling the dry scratch of the decorative paper beneath my prints.

My lips wobbled like a child’s, blubbers that were supposed to be sobs flustering out from my tongue. “Where is it? Where the fuck is it?” I whispered to myself, pointer finger numb from how harshly I was jabbing the wall.

My harbors had gone up in flames. I was floating in deep, deathly waters with nowhere to anchor. Until- Max’s voice finally caught up with me. One gentle hand on the dip of my back, one carefully wrapping its fingers around my wrist.

I couldn’t resist, not that I really wanted to, as his towering, homely frame took me in, cradled me like the child I needed to be in this moment.

The elevator finally beeped, the doors opening like another set of warm, homely arms. Max guided us inside and peeled one of his hands away from me to press the button for the second floor.

I half-expected Oliver to chase us down, to lodge his body between the doors, grab me from Max’s arms. I wanted him to chase me out into the rain, flag down a taxi, meet me at the airport like some cheesy rom-com scene.

But, he didn’t.

In fact, he didn’t say anything to me for three whole fucking days.

#sleep token #sleep token x reader #vessel x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token x you #vessel x you #vessel sleep token #sleep token band #sleep token fanfic #sleep token iii

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yinttepk · 5 months

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Aikaaaa where are you?!

well, you see-

okay, in all srsness tho

first and foremost, i am sincerely SO sorry for disappearing so suddenly like that 🙏

honestly, i genuinely wasn't expecting to go abruptly go poof outta nowhere either but

life had many other plans for me. and needless to say, i went through hell and back during this past month so to save you all from a sob story I'm gonna simply declare that i won 🗣️🗣️

as I am typing this, my heart is accelerating the limit it should have because well, im kinda anxious when it comes to going goners then reappearing after a month or so 😭

again, i do apologize

it's not to say that I am COMPLETELY returning ( you have school to curse for that.. IM IN MY LAST SEM THO SO WERE NEARING FREEXOM AYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY ) however, I will do my best to catch up w yalls since its the least i believe I can do atm to express my inexplicable gratitude to yalls 😭💕

i am in the midst of beating up burnt out for doing this to me causing me to neglect important beings in my life so dw now yall 🥰

good news is that I've spent the majority of my leftover sanity to improve to the best of my capabilities in art tho;) and I'm quite proud of how I'm doing now;D

I greatly appreciate everyone, especially those who expressed concern for me. sorry for making you guys worry. I want to let y'all know that I am so thankful for y'all ( expect me to bug you even more now )

there are so much things i planned to yap about to y'all but hey, my fingers typing aren't necessarily in the mood to play along with me 😔 ( i could've handled this explanation wayyy betteebbut I am panicking bcs I accidentally pressed what I shouldn't have approx 30 mins ago the second I opened a certain of one of the few social medias I've havent ever since forever )

#UHUHUHHHH #im a bit awkward #sorry 😭😭😭#there are a ton of asks that i see #i might not answer all atm tho #i apologize 😭🙏#just feeling a bit overwhelmed with the suppirt #i am thinking of how i should approaxh yalls UHHHH #busy w problems #<<ignoring them = peak happiness 🗣️🗣️🗣️#just kidddddinggg;)#i am doing wonderful now #missed yall tbh. love yall 💕#reflection saves lives‼️‼️

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celestiababie · 2 years

Note

the thought of sub mingyu coming untouched while he eats you out.. boy couldnt even handle the feeling of your throbbing clit on his mouth that make his cock spurted even tho you havent cum yet. he ended up being embarrassed 😩

I just know Mingyu gives some good head— he's too much of a giver to not be.

Maybe it would start out with just an innocent movie date at home where you two were just cuddled up next to each other on the couch. But things quickly turned sinful once you decided to tease your cute boyfriend by rubbing your hand along his thigh.

Mingyu is quite... easily excited so it didn't take much for his cock to ache as it pressed against his boxers.

But before you could even touch him where he needed it the most, Mingyu was already sliding off of the couch and tugging your pajamas bottoms off, looking up at you with the cutest puppy eyes as if he was silently begging for a taste of you.

How could you say no? Mingyu was always so eager when he gave head. Licking, sucking, kissing your heat as if he was fucking starved and needed to.

He'd always slip deeper and deeper into subspace when he went down on you. Something about the praises that left your mouth, your hips grinding to fuck yourself on his mouth, the way your hands gripped his hair to push him closer to your pussy.

Mingyu was too engrossed in your pleasure to even notice the precum dripping out of him, his cock twitching with each moan that left your lips, each movement of your hips.

It caught both of you off gaurd when Mingyu suddenly pulled away from you and had his head rest on your thigh as he shuddered uncontrollably. Thick ropes of cum seeping into his boxers.

Once he finally calmed down, he couldn't look you in the eye, he was too embarrassed for spoiling his boxers just from tasting you.

But little did he know that you loved how he got off from pleasing you.

Ahem....did I write too much? Sorry, I was really into this idea

#asks #svt asks #mingyu asks #mingyu smut #mingyu headcanons #mingyu x reader #seventeen #mingyu #svt #sub!svt #sub!mingyu #sub!idol #mingyu imagines #svt imagines #svt x reader #mingyu hard hours

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junkissed · 1 year

Note

THE TUMMMY VEEEEEEINS i just whimpered out loud. need to suck him off so bad feeling vampiric feeling mosquitotic 💤

member — junhui x gn reader genre — smut, it gets very soft n domestic word count — 800 warnings — handjob, oral (m receiving), no physical description of reader notes — MOSQUITOTIC MSHJDNEHDND ur so right tho i need to slurp him up like an insect!! anyway this wasnt supposed to get this long but if you havent noticed i really like jun so. what can i say. tagging @lovelyhan because this is what i meant when i said i love jun the same way you love jeonghan hehe

imagine laying down with jun and just running your hands along his tummy and tracing each and every vein with your fingertip and feeling how soft and smooth his skin is and how firm his abs are.

imagine pressing your hand flat against his stomach and making him shiver with how deliberate your touch is yet how gentle you are with him and it's cold and light but the pressure makes his whole body heat and you can feel how warm his skin is under your palm and he's already getting hard from how dangerously close your hand is.

imagine hearing the little sighs he lets out, seeing him close his eyes and his bare chest moving up and down with each little breath he takes as your fingers follow his veins lower and lower and lower and-

imagine taking his cock in your hand and holding it, your touch still so gentle and light as a feather but he still gasps and pushes his hips up unconsciously, begging for more stimulation, but you loosen your grip and let his cock rest against your palm, tracing the thick vein along the top with your thumb, putting just a little bit of pressure, stroking him slowly and carefully as if you were petting a cat.

imagine watching his abs tense up and his stomach muscles contract when you grip him a little tighter, watching his head roll back against the pillow to expose his neck and his adam's apple that dances and bobs with every ragged breath and choked whimper that leaves his beautiful parted lips as he begs you for more, harder, faster, tighter, more, please, and you ignore his pleas in favor of tracing the ridges of his cock once more, determined to memorize every inch of him so that you could recognize him from the veins on his cock alone, feeling every single bump and groove and vein he has to offer because no one has a cock as good as his, none as perfect as his, none as unique as his and you tell him so, because you have to make sure he knows you appreciate all of him because it's him, whether he's inside you or in your hand or in your mouth, you love all of him and you wouldn't want to know anyone as intimately as you know him.

and once you've thoroughly memorized him with your hands, there's only one logical next step, memorizing him with your tongue. imagine wrapping your lips around him and starting at the tip, working your way down slowly, letting your tongue wander over every part of him, mapping out his body with your mouth just like you did with your fingers, taking your time, not caring about the spit that falls from your lips and pools at the base of his cock and makes a mess everywhere, because by now he's moaning so sweetly and the mess is the last thing on his mind, he's not holding back any sound, he's not filtering the words of praise that spill out of him, he loves you, he loves your hands, he loves your mouth, you're always so good to him and he loves you so so much.

imagine the sheets curled around his fists as he struggles to stay still but he can't because you feel too good, you feel too perfect, how can you even be real because you're so good to him, you must be some sort of dream.

imagine the sweat pouring from his skin, his body shaking and convulsing and you're barely even moving and barely even touching him but it's so much, it's too much, he can't help it and oh fuck please please please he's so close and-

and you don't tease him for cumming so fast, you don't scold him or punish him or overstimulate him like you've done many times before, you just lick the trickle of cum from your lips and sit up to kiss him, holding his face gently, the same gentleness that you held his cock with, the same gentleness that you hold his heart with, because he's so precious to you that you can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to hold him and touch him and trace every vein like you do.

you can't imagine how anyone could not love him like you do, but that's okay, because he's all yours, so you don't need to imagine anyone else. all you have to imagine is him, right here, laying next to you, his breathing finally beginning to slow as he kisses you again and again, because he couldn't imagine how anyone could not love you, but it doesn't matter because you're all his and he doesn't need to imagine anyone else, either.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

> taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @photographic-girl @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @skzzooyaaa @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b

> strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are turned off to ensure i can tag you properly!

> if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

#k-labels #kflixnet #[📌] — june.writes #[💌] — asks #💤 anon #junhui smut #jun smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #junhui scenarios #jun scenarios #also this started out as like. one paragraph and then i got carried away oopsie #on the bright side i finally wrote again so yay !! its been so long i am SO sorry but i hope this makes up for it hehe

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ppnuggiex · 1 year

Note

HIHII i see yoy dont have obey me content yet,, want me 2 change that😼😼 HOPE IM NOT DISTURBING U OR ANUTHINGF AND ALSO HOPE URE HAVING A NICE SUMMERR

but anywayy could i req hcs(and maybe a small scenario🙇‍♀️) of solomon and simeon(MAYBE DIAVOLO AND BARBATOS IF U WONT MIND,, IDM IF U DONT THO HUHU) with an insomniac/sleepy s/o that accidentally slept over at their place😻 IM SORRY IF U DONT UNDERSTAND,, BUT AS IN THEY WERE INVITED TO THEIR ROOM BUT COULDNT HOLD BACK FROM SLEEPING SINCE THEY HAVENT SLEPT😞😞

sorrei 4 making this so long,,im chatty asf for an introvert omg😭😭 BUT YEYESY THAT'S ALL🤍🤍 LOVE UR WORK VHAI VHAI🙇‍♀️

　　　　　　OBEY ME x gn reader

　　　　『　solomon ,, simeon ,, diavolo ,, barbatos ,, gender neutral reader 』

　　-> side characters w/ sleepy or insomniac s/o

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, comfort

　　— HIII OMG TYSM ♥️♥️♥️ glad to have my first obey me ask :) i am having a great summer 💪💪 though i start school next week 😭😭 so not too happy about that ,, tysm for requesting though :D i did all of them 😈😈 and its alr !! no worries abt being chatty 😝 i dont mind it one bit !! heres the request tho :) hope you enjoy <3

- solomon

| • he knows how the brothers run you ragged ,, and so he doesnt mind if you happen to fall asleep whilst staying over with him

| • if anything ,, it gives him an excuse to stay with you longer ,, stealing a few extra hours ,, and if one of the brothers do call he can say youre asleep

| • solomon did call you over so he can teach you more about a certain spell you had questions about

| • he'd pick you up from where you had fallen asleep and take you to his room ,, placing you under the covers so you'd be comfortable and warm at least

| • he'll place a kiss to your head and then go to the kitchen and make you something ,, until simeon stops him

- simeon

| • he wouldnt mind one bit if you happened to fall asleep ,, hes thankful for it really ,, since he knows how hard you work and how little time you get to yourself

| • he just wants you to be happy and healthy ,, and being well rested goes with that

| • simeon would make sure that youre comfortable ,, put a blanket over you and a pillow under your head

| • whilst your sleeping he makes you a little snack for you when you wake up ,, so you can have something to enjoy and refill your energy with

- diavolo

| • he had finally gotten some free time with his tight schedule and didnt waste a moment before he invited you over to watch some movies from the human world he's been interested in watching

| • barbatos helped to make popcorn and other snacks for you both ,, and even gave diavolo a quick tutorial how to use the remote and the tv 💀💀

| • diavolo isnt too upset that you fell asleep halfway through the movie though ,, hes mostly upset you havent been able to take care of yourself and in result its made you lose sleep

| • he keeps you under the cover and all cuddle up though ,, pressing many kisses to your head as he finishes up the movie

| • he might also nap with you when he gets a little too cozy

- barbatos

| • he already knew how tired you were before he invited you over ,, really it was the whole reason he did

| • having a little free time to himself for a bit ,, after finishing his duties for the hour that is ,, he invited you over with the intention of you sleeping

| • he made a special tea blend that increases melatonin and is meant to put people to sleep or make them drowsy ,, really just in general help them sleep

| • he'll coax you over to his bed and let you sleep whilst he finishes his duties for the upcoming hour

| • barbatos also has a few treats left out for you on the bedside table ,, with a spotch of tea to help awaken you and restore your energy

#obey me x reader #obey me #☁️.obey me #🐑.obey me #🐑.solomon #🐑.barbatos #🐑.simeon #🐑.diavolo #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos #simeon x reader #obey me simeon #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo

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minustwofingers · 9 months

Text

love is a laserquest p.2

series masterlist (read p1 here!)

pairing: rockstar!ellie williams x reader

request: @thatgiraffefromtlou so kindly included me on a post about writing something inspired by these beautiful edits :) thank you !

summary: after a serious of unfortunate events, columbia grad y/n y/l/n finds herself using her hard-earned journalism degree interviewing vapid stars and writing articles that she's convinced are rotting her mind. ellie williams has just dropped the album of the year and it's all anyone is talking about, but all she wants is to be off the press train. a certain interview with a certain interviewer might change this.

cws: explicit language, kind of suggestive phrasing? (i get a little feral with guitar playing descriptions), shitty bosses, mentions of nausea and throwing up (no one actually does tho dw), y/n is anxious asf, my writing is a little....yikes...in this one, loser!ellie

a/n: i lied i lied hehe. here's the next part. im still working on building this stupid app so i havent been able to write as much recently + holiday family stuff but oh am i back!

here's a playlist inspired by this fic

wc: 2.4k

tags: tags :) @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie@galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @diddiqueen @krisyslostsoul

enjoy mwah

It starts slow, like the drip of a broken faucet. It’s not like you’re actively seeking out anything Ellie William’s related, but somehow it seems like everything Ellie Williams related is seeing you out.

In the grocery store, one of her hit songs from her newest album blaring over the speakers.

On the street, where you see crumpled pages of magazines with her face plastered all over them.

And—perhaps the most offensively—on NPR and the New York Times, quite literally days after you’d met her. Suddenly Steve Inskeep and Leila Fadel begin the Up First podcast with a familiar song and devote an entire third of the morning podcast to Ellie and her band’s rise to fame.

You decide to switch to the BBC World News for a while, but even they seem to be under her spell.

It’s not that you don’t like Ellie. She seems fine. Normal. Really cute, actually, and clearly very talented. But whenever you think about her, you think about the ill-fated, awkward, charmless interview.

“What happened?” Alyssa had asked you when she’d come back from surgery. “That wasn’t you out there.”

Which was actually very hurtful to hear, because you’d been holding onto the hope that you’d been all in your head about your interview being a failure. It all culminates in Eric, your 300 year old manager, sending you a strongly worded email that told you that your performance in the interview was so underwhelming that you were being pulled from the interviewer pool and exiled to article writing land. Which could be worse, you admit. You could be unemployed on the streets of LA. At least you’re still writing.

And write you do. You spend all your waking hours either at your keyboard, on your yoga mat, or sat in a chair somewhere at a local cafe for a coffee chat. You’ve mostly deleted social media, since all you see nowadays are pictures of Ellie and Becca’s posts about her experience working and loving her life in New York (the algorithm apparently knows exactly what you want to see the most).

It’s bizarre that, even as you try your best to place your focus on honing your craft and consuming only content that you think will make you a better writer, you still somehow learn everything and more about Ellie Wlliams and her band. It’s in the emails at work whose chains you’re CC’ed on. It’s in the advertisements and the billboards everywhere. It’s even in the conversations you have with your two roommates, Greta and Maureena.

“She’s so fucking cool,” says Maureena dreamily as you sit around the TV in the living room. “I still can’t believe you got to talk to her.”

“It’s not like I actually got to, like, get to know her or whatever,” you say. “It was honestly kind of dry. Just awkward small talk.”

“That’s more than anyone else I know can say.” She reaches forward and grabs a fistful of popcorn. “How come she gets interviewed by the person who probably cares about her the least in all of LA? Like, what are the chances?”

“I care,” you say, and it sounds unusually defensive coming out of your mouth.

Maureena gives you a long, suspicious look, but before she can respond, Greta comes bursting into the apartment, purse swinging from her shoulder.

A greeting is halfway out of your mouth when she cuts you off.

“You guys will not believe what I just did.” She’s nearly bursting with excitement, her eyes bright and wide.

“Like, in a good way?” you ask.

“Yes. Obviously!” Greta fishes around in her pocket until she pulls her phone out, waving it around. “Check your email.”

The last time Greta had come in with an entrance this energetic, she’d been coming to inform you both that she was getting engaged to her loser boyfriend Brian (which—thank God—didn’t actually last), so you and Maureena trade nervous looks.

Maureena gets to it first.

“Tickets to see Ellie Williams? Tonight?” Now she’s about to explode with giddiness, leaping from the couch and throwing her arms around Greta. “I love you, I love you, I love you. How did you get these? I thought they were, like, totally sold out. Or ten thousand dollars.”

She grins wickedly, holding her hands out in a “who knows” sort of way. “You can all thank me later. We have to leave in about 20 if we want to get there in time. Y/N, you good?”

You’d been staring on in horror, jaw dropped and body completely frozen. You had registered that Ellie was playing in LA tonight—it’s all anyone you knew talked about at work today—but you never once considered actually going to try to see her. “Uh, yeah. Give me just a few.”

By the time you get to the venue, you’re convinced that you might actually puke from the nerves. It’s ridiculous. It’s not like three broke 20 some year olds were going to get last minute seats to an Ellie Williams concert that were genuinely good seats. It’s not like she would see you and realize that the girl who flopped while interviewing her was a big enough fan to attend. You’re going to be fine.

“Shit, Grets, how are we so close?” asked Maureena as she leads you both closer and closer to the front.

Horror steadily rises within you as you approach the front row.

“I got these from my boss,” she says, turning around with a devilish glint in her dark brown eyes. “Her daughter got food poisoning, bless her. She had to stay back to take care of her, and I was the only one who stayed late to work, so…”

Greta’s boss was some filthy rich nepo baby who was a partner of a big talent agency. All of a sudden you feel stupid for not realizing this sooner.

“Shit,” you say, mostly to yourself. “Oh no. Oh my god.”

“Isn’t this so cool!” Greta jumps up and down, hands on your shoulders as she tries to rile you up. “Dude, what if she recognizes you?”

“I think I’m going to puke,” you say miserably. Somehow the thought of her seeing you made you want to crawl inside your skin in shame and hide for the next calendar year. “Did you guys not see how ass it was? I was so fucking awkward.”

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Maureena pats your shoulder.

“I literally was forbidden from ever interviewing again because it was so bad.”

“Because Eric hates women,” says Greta. “It’s not your fault he’s a horrible human being. Give it, like, a year or so until he croaks. Then they’ll let you back in the game.”

“Uh huh,” you say, feeling very harrowed.

You remain in this state of abject terror for the entire opener performance. The nausea doesn’t subside. It only gets worse when you realize that if you actually puke, Ellie’s definitely going to see it. Just like she’s going to see you, with the stupid stars Greta had insisted you paint on your cheekbones with glittery eyeliner and eyeshadow.

“She really likes space,” Greta had told you while you’d been getting ready, pretending like you didn’t already know all about this. “So all of her fans wear star stuff to see her.”

Before you can think to wipe off the glitter, everything goes black. Then the crowd goes wild.

When the silvery blue light spills onto the stage, it illuminates Ellie, standing just a number of feet away from you. You barely have enough time to take in the black leather coat and loose white shirt she’s wearing before music explodes out of the speakers, her fingers flying up and down the fretboard.

You’re spellbound as you watch her. Her voice rings loud and clear and slightly gravelly when it snags on her words. She’s nothing at all like the girl you’d met a month ago—there’s no discomfort, no awkwardness. She looks like she’s born to be on stage.

When the first song ends, she steps back, grabbing the standing mic next to her.

“Uh. Hi,” she says, and it’s so endearingly nervous compared to how she’d just sounded that something in your chest twists. She rubs the back of her neck. “I’m Ellie.”

Greta and Maureena join the crowd, screaming and cheering.

“I LOVE YOU!” someone shrieks, louder than everyone else.

“You know,” she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people reacting like this to me just, like, saying my name. It’s really fucking weird. Oh. Shit. Sorry. Are you guys okay with me swearing?”

The roar that comes from the crowd is entirely undecipherable.

“Right,” says Ellie. “Um. I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry to anyone who brought their kids or something. Anyway, this one’s about the ex who cheated on me and gave me mono.”

Before you can react to that, she starts playing.

As she proceeds through the setlist, you’re struck by just how close you are to her, how many things you can notice that hardly anyone else in the crowd can see. You see the outline of her phone in her pocket, the pieces of hair that have fallen out of her little half bun and are sticking to her face, the way that the glitter on her collarbones trails down her shirt in little rivulets.

And, above everything else, you can see the horrible way her fingers straddle the fretboard, curling and pressing with ease so practiced it looks tender.

Apart from this bad, bad development (you can feel your mind going a million miles an hour about things you should not be thinking about), things are going great. Ellie hasn’t noticed you. Or even looked in your direction. You’re not even sure she can see you, given how little light is shed onto the crowd. The false sense of security makes you feel comfortable singing along with Greta and Maureena, your lips forming the lyrics you’d been pretending to not listen to whenever her songs came on.

It happens during a slower song, a sort of ballad that makes your heart thud harder in your chest to hear from her mouth. The lights on stage dim a little. Light spills just the slightest onto the front of the crowd, and Ellie’s eyes fall and snap onto yours so decisively that it almost feels audible.

For a moment, you can’t breathe. Ellie’s voice suddenly catches mid-word, faltering and missing a beat. She thrusts her hand with the mic into the crowd, which eagerly picks up where she left off and finishes the verse.

It’s impossible to see on the screen projecting her image behind her, but you can see the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the stiffness that comes with realizing that you actually know someone from somewhere.

You’re the one who breaks eye contact, focused with a sudden intensity on the way the thin fabric of your sleeves are situated on your arms.

Greta pokes you so hard in your ribs that you gasp.

“What the fuck!” you snap, but the words are swept away by the noise around you.

“Why didn’t you wave?!” she hisses in your ear. “She totally recognized you.”

The realization falls over you with the subtlety of an anvil. Oh my god. You totally should’ve waved. That was the normal, well-adjusted thing to do. Now she was going to think you were weird. And it was too late now. But she didn’t wave to you. Wasn’t she supposed to wave first? Because you of course remembered her, but she might not remember you. Yeah. You could go with that.

Maybe she didn’t remember you.

You can’t relax for the rest of the concert. You try your best to just act normal and dance along with your friends and casually mouth the words, but it’s hard when it feels like she’s staring at you. Which is completely impossible. The light doesn’t fall back onto the crowd until the concert is over and Ellie and her band are long gone backstage.

Two months later, all you can think about is the way that Ellie stuttered over her words when she saw you in the crowd. Of course, this is definitely something you’ve made up in your mind, because there’s a number of reasons why she might’ve slipped up. Maybe she just thought she knew you from somewhere and couldn’t place it. That’s why she (allegedly) kept looking in your direction afterwards. Or maybe you’re completely batshit insane, and she didn’t look at you at all. Because if she had, wouldn’t she have waved? Right?

It’s almost bad enough to distract you from work. You find yourself prowling on Twitter, watching the #elliewilliams tag blow up following every concert date. It doesn’t give you any clarity, because in every picture, she looks just as perfect and cool and confident as she was at the LA show. You don’t know why you assumed she’d look different if it was true that she’d recognized you. More human, maybe. But she’s just as bathed in starlight as she was that night many weeks before, just as far away and untouchable.

You spend so much time thinking about her that you’re convinced you might’ve slipped into a dream when Eric appears at your cubicle with the news.

Instead of saying hello, he plops a stack of papers on the desk in front of you, all labeled “PopNow! Interview Etiquette”.

“Excuse me?” you say.

“Start reading up, kid,” says Eric. “You’re back in the game.”

“What?”

“You have an interview scheduled later this week.” He scowls down at you, gum smacking in his mouth. He smells faintly of tobacco.

“But I thought I was removed from—”

“You still are,” he says. “But someone requested you. Their manager told us they wouldn’t talk to us if they didn’t get you.”

“What?”

He huffs out a short laugh. “Believe me, I was surprised too. Don’t know what they’re on about after the last time you talked to their client. Fuck this one up and you’re out, okay? Got it? The info’s in your inbox already.”

Somehow the words don’t quite sink in until you open the email and see the words on paper.

SENDER: Maria Miller

RECIPIENT: Eric Bal

CC: [email protected], y/ny/l/n@popnow!.com

Eric,

Great to hear back from you. Glad that 3 next Wednesday works.

Best,

final a/n: lmk how u guys feel about this...feeling a little unsure about where this is going but enjoying writing it anyway there are two wolves inside of me etc. etc. also ive missed u all! i hope everyone is doing well! dont b shy!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams fluff

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