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backtothefanfiction · 4 months ago

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Insecure | Joel Miller Imagine

Prompt: “YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO INSECURE!”

Summary: Being Joel’s- well- whatever you are, isn’t easy.

Warnings: ANGST!!!

A/N- just a quick one before bed to keep me in the habit… and I just needed to write something angsty. A bit open ended, but yeah, hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to give feedback and reblog if you like!

Joel was handsome- you knew that. Had always known that. Heck you had wanted to jump his bones the very first time you saw him. So you understood when women, girls and sometimes even other guys did a double take or just stared at him. But it was like he was oblivious to it.

You had been travelling and working with him for 7 months now and no matter what town, city or QZ you dropped into, it was the same fucking story. He’d walk in all swagger, some dickhead would feel threatened because Joel turned his girl’s eye. They’d end up in a fight and he’d get you both kicked out because he was both too ignorant or stubborn to just concede. He’d then get frustrated and go take it out on something- hunting game or punching things or if that still didn’t work jacking off in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep.

2 months into it you had gotten drunk with him in some cabin in the middle of nowhere that thankfully still had a stash of liquor hiding under the kitchen sink. With a little liquid courage you had drunkenly admitted you’d heard him on those nights. You had teased him and offered to help if he wanted it. You should have just kept your mouth shut, shouldn’t have offered anything because Joel really was oblivious. He thought it was just sex. A way for you to both blow off some steam at the end of the fucking world. But for you… well… it was everything.

Even when you got back home, on those particularly tough days, he sought you out. You would fuck and talk until you both fell asleep. He seemed to smile more around you. Open up to you about the past. But where you thought you had a growing relationship, he just thought you were a good friend. Because at the end of the day, if it’s not clearly spelt out for him, Joel won’t see it… Or maybe he does, he just refuses to acknowledge it- and that just makes it worse. Especially when he starts coming to you for other stuff.

He would come to you for dinner. And you would play the happy little housewife role too; laying the table, learning his favourites so you could cook them for him. If he got hurt for any reason, it was you and your first aid kit he would come to, to patch him up.

He would invite you to other peoples gatherings as his plus one. He moved some of his stuff into one of the drawers in your dresser. For all intents and purposes you were a couple… but you weren’t- and he always made that abundantly clear when others asked.

“So how long have you two been together now?” Tess had asked over dinner.

“Oh we’re not together.” He had hastily said before shoving another forkful of food quickly into his mouth, not even sparing you a second glance.

But Tess saw it. She saw the way the light dimmed in your eyes when he said it. Saw how distant you became. After all this time, he still wouldn’t call it what it was.

The three of you ate in uncomfortable silence after that, but he seemed none the wiser. He didn’t see the looks of pity Tess shot your way. Didn’t see the apology in her eyes as she left.

“Did I do something wrong?” He finally asked, breaking the silence as you began clearing plates off the table, scraping the scraps into the bin, before placing them into the sink.

At his words, you wished you had the luxury of being dramatic, throwing down the plates and smashing them, but resources were scarce enough as it was. Not to mention you’d just have to clean up all the pieces when he inevitably left to avoid this conversation. But all your anger and frustration was still there, bubbling up under the surface like a pot of boiling water, just waiting to simmer over. “No, Joel.” You seethed under your breath, trying to keep a lid on it, but you had sat too long in the silence just thinking about it all- realising how silly you had been to even think someone like him would actually want to be with you.

“Really, Darlin’, because it feels like-“

“JUST STOP!” You said, dropping the glasses into the sink on top of the plates with a clatter, your hands flying into the air searching for some sort of mercy. “Please stop!” You said again, forcing yourself to breath and take a moment and try as much as you could to keep your cool, because you knew him. You knew the moment he heard you raise your voice or get stressed with him, he’d just shut down and check out.

“Stop what?” He tried to say confused, which only made your blood simmer more.

You took in a deep breath and counted to five inside your head before you spoke. “Why did you have to say that?”

“Say what? Darlin’ I’m so fucking confused right-“

“No.” You said, shutting him down, willing him to think, to listen, to see- for once in his life. “Why did you say that in front of Tess.”

“Say what?” He asked again confused. His foot began to tap on the floorboards as he began to feed off your energy, himself growing equally as irritated as you.

“That we weren’t together.”

“Because we’re not.” He said bluntly.

“Really?!” You asked exasperatedly.

“Yes, really!”

“Joel, you practically live here. We do everything together. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry. WE SLEEP TOGETHER!”

“You offered all those things!” He stressed.

“Oh my god! How do you not see it?!”

“See what?!” He retorted.

“You invite me to places as your plus one.”

“Yeah, because we’re friends.”

“Oh my GOD!” You sighed, your hand running through your hair as you turned away from him, unable to look at his face. “YOU KNOW, YOU MAKE ME SO INSECURE!” You shouted at him as you sharply turned back to face him. “I literally put myself out there for you, every- single- day- and it’s still never enough. What is it Joel? Am I just not good enough for that?”

“We’re just us, why do you want to put a label on that?”

“BECAUSE I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” You screamed at him.

It was like detonating a bomb. His face was a picture. He really hadn’t seen it. Hadn’t wanted to see it.

“You think I did all this for you, just because we were friends?” You asked him, when the silence between you grew too much.

When he remained silent, you sighed in defeat and turned back to the sink. You rested your hands against the cold porcelain, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. This was it. You’d lost him, you were sure of it. Any second now he’d say he was gonna grab his things and go and that would be it. Unwilling to face a goodbye, you reached for the tap and turned it on.

You didn’t hear his footsteps move closer to you over the sound of the running water. When his hand reached past you to turn off the tap, it made your blood run cold.

“No.” He finally said into the silence. “No, I didn’t think you did all those things just because we were friends.” He sighed. “I just… after Sarah’s mom- and then everything that happened to Sarah- I just…” His voice kept trailing off, unable to find his words. His hand reached to rest over yours on the edge of the sink, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “I was just so scared about getting attached. If I put a label to my own feelings, it’d just feel worse when it’s inevitably snatched away from me again.”

Your brow furrowed as you tried to work out what he was saying. He sighed as he hung his head, unable to meet your eyes, his own guilt and shame weighing heavy on his shoulders. “I’m sorry.” He eventually said. “I’m sorry that I made you feel insecure, or like I don’t appreciate everything that you do.” He said, his eyes slowly lifting to find yours again. “I never meant to make you feel like that. You are enough- more- than enough, I’d be nothing without you.” He quietly confessed. “I’d still be picking fights and killing guys and beating one out in frustration most nights. Barely eating. Wearing the same flannel and pair of jeans for he fifth day in a row… I’m sorry- okay… I’m sorry.” He said and his words began to make you soften, your body leaning further into him. “But I still can’t put a label on this.” He said; and your face fell.

You took a moment- you breathed deeply. One, two, three.

“Okay.” You conceded.

“Okay?” He questioned.

It wasn’t the answer you were looking for- the outcome you had been hoping for- but for him… it was close enough. “Okay.” You confirmed,

“Okay.” He slowly nodded and agreed. “I’ll do these.” He offered, nudging you out of the way of the sink.

“Okay.” You quietly agreed again…. But only time would tell if it was really okay… or if this fight was just on hold for another day.

#joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #Joel miller #angst #open ended

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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year ago

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Hi! I really enjoy your one piece writings, they have given me so much comfort when I don't feel okay 😭

Can I please get a Mihawk (I'm completely in love w this man aah) imagine where his wife is a sensitive person who gets sad when someone is rude to them but they feel insecure couse they think it's stupid

Thank youuuuuu ❤️🥺

First of all, I'm honoured that I can provide a source of comfort to you. I'm glad my work has made you feel better in your time of need.

Second of all: oh yessss bestie this hits the spot. It also reminds me of a wonderful scene in The Gentlemen (10/10, highly recommend) [it also hits close to home because I am a sensitive person]

The thing about strong people is that they make others want to be just as strong, which isn't always easy if even possible. You've always known you're a little 'softer' than most people but only after marrying Mihawk did you find the difference in temperament bothersome. Instead of considering your sensitivity a fact of nature, you've begun to find it a flaw, something that you should change about yourself.

You've never admitted it to yourself but the truth is plain and simple - you think it's embarrassing. That Mihawk will find your sensitivity embarrassing. Maybe if you had been up-front about it with your husband, you'd learn that he adores your soft heart. If he felt forthcoming enough, perhaps you'd even hear that you're the source of warmth and light in his life. Hence he calls you his 'sun'.

To say that Mihawk grew concerned when he heard your muffled sobs would be like not saying anything. A delicious euphemism at best. Anger and fear bubble inside his chest. There's a strange itch in his hands that eggs him to wreak havoc.

"Apple of my eye," his voice carries well through the rather empty room you're both staying at currently. "What is the meaning of this?"

Frantically wiping away your tears, you look over your shoulder to meet his gaze. Mihawk is leaning against the doorframe, blocking the entrance if you so wish to run away from this situation.

"Oh, it's nothing. Really, I'm alright. No need to worry," you half-heartedly attempt to reassure him.

The swordsman loudly exhales through his nose. He's your husband, worrying about you is his duty. In slow steps, Mihawk walks over to the edge of the bed where you're sitting. Pride and titles as if forgotten, he drops on one knee in front of you. One of his hands gently squeezes your knee.

Unsure what's the best way to go about these circumstances, you timidly meet his intense gaze. The passion in his yellow eyes makes you think of a maelstrom captured in a jar - something devastating held back by a miracle. He's already seething, just doesn't yet know who exactly to direct his violence at.

"Indulge me," he prompts you to confide in him. There's a rare sense of pleading in his tone.

So indulge him you do - you tell Mihawk all about the unpleasant encounter with a local tearaway. Your husband tries his best to control his expression as you recount the unambiguously offensive words, unwanted touches and threats of real violence coming from someone who was probably looking for a cowardly scapegoat to vent his anger. As you continue your story, tears just keep rolling down your cheeks, fear and humiliation finally finding their way out of your heart.

"I know I'm being stupid," you mumble as you clumsily wipe your face, "he was just rude and it's not like he actually hurt me but-"

Mihawk's touch makes you cut your sentence short. His hand, its skin rough and calloused, gently cups the side of your face. Your hot, salty tears disperse as his thumb slowly rubs them away. Something about the tenderness of his touch, of hands that have killed and maimed, is enough to make you feel like you're about to break in his arms. Even if you do, you know that when dawn breaks you will be whole again, put back together with the unending love Mihawk holds for you.

"You've always been too good, my sun," he tells you in a low voice. He could have said 'too soft' or 'too sensitive' but then his remark would come off as deceitful as it would suggest his dislike towards your nature. Nothing of that sort - Mihawk genuinely thinks you're a better person than most people walking this plane. And he'd rather succumb to torture than let anyone make you feel bad about that.

The man leans in and places his warm lips against your forehead. Without much effort, he lays you down on the bed and you let him. Even if you wanted to fight back, you're way too tired to do so.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed, caressing your face, neck, arms and back as he's waiting for you to fall asleep. The anticipation doesn't require much patience - Mihawk's tender touches lull you to peaceful slumber rather swiftly. When he's sure that you're asleep, he kisses your forehead again before cautiously leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Perhaps he can't turn back the time and make the offending man choke on his words but he can ensure that the tearway won't hurt you ever again. Someone resting in peace so you can rest peacefully is a good bargain.

Mihawk knows exactly who he's looking for. He made a note of a certain characteristic trait you had mentioned - an earring with a single, red-coloured feather. It doesn't seem like a piece of jewellery that would be common anywhere.

It doesn't take much to find the tearaway. He makes his presence well-known as he stumbles out of a tavern, his legs almost giving away with each step.

So he assaults random women minding their business and then gets blackout drunk. It's pathetic enough to consider his death merciful.

Staying true to his name, the swordsman stalks his prey before lunging. Appearing as another patron of the inn, Mihawk follows the stranger around the corner towards barns, stables and pigstys. Fitting place for the likes of him, Dracule thinks to himself.

The man with the curious earring staggers his way towards a drinking trough. He's fumbling with his pants, desperately trying to pull them down to relieve himself but his fingers are not dextrious enough.

Mihawk picks up the pitchfork leaning against the barn wall. In one, swift motion he gores the tool through the back of the man's knee. A guttural scream tears through the night as he falls to the ground.

The swordsman grabs a fistful of the tearaway's hair. He forces the kneeling man to look up into his seething, yellow eyes.

"Do I owe you money?" The man is slurring his words. He squints his eyes, trying to focus his hazy vision on Mihawk and, possibly, recognize his creditor. "It's money, isn't it? Shit, just give me two days, man. I'll give it back with interest."

"I don't care about money."

Instantaneously, panic appears in the tearaway's eyes. Did he just find himself in the same position he's put hundreds of people in to cure his own boredom and need for grandiosity?

"Then what it is?!" he shouts, fear settling in his viscera. Dracule's calmness put together with the sheer hatred emanating from him makes for a deeply unsettling impression.

"You hurt my wife," comes the answer. The fist clenching the man's hair tightens its hold further, threatening to tear off his scalp. "My wife," Mihawk growls.

But before the tearaway can ask for clarification, his head is forced into the drinking trough. Surprised and scared, oxygen is escaping him fast. Soon, his throat and chest begin to clench and throb painfully. Dark spots dance across his vision, foreboding blindness.

Then, Mihawk pulls his head just above the surface. The man desperately gasps for air.

"If you believe in a god," the swordsman begins in a low voice shaking with anger and adrenaline, "I suggest you start praying. Fast."

The tearaway's head is forced underwater again but this time, Mihawk keeps it there until the ruffian's body stops trembling and shaking. After that, Dracule waits for a while longer - just for good measure.

You're woken up by the creaking of doors as they slowly open. Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you look over your shoulder only to experience a sort of deja vu: Mihawk is standing in the doorway. Before you can ask about his strange behaviour, your husband makes his way to you in long, quick strides. He kneels on the floor beside the bed.

Mihawk takes your hand in his. He takes something out of his pocket and places it in your palm. You recognize the red feather earring immediately. And is that... a piece of skin still attached to it? Gently, your husband closes your fist and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss on your knuckles.

"The rat has paid for its sins," he whispers to you. Judging by the intense look in his eyes, you don't want to know the details of this story.

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 5 months ago

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I can only share my interest in Aegon to you, so I’ll just drop this here. (Dw, contrary to what I say next, this is not a request. Just desperation.)

Broski, I NEED reader wife who’s scared of heights and dragons but Aegon gets her to ride with him just cuz he feels like it. (My hand is probably 1/3 smaller than one of their teeth. I believe Anyone sane should be scared sh’tless while seeing a dragon. 💀)

I ONLY READ ONE FIC WHERE THEY FLY ON A DRAGON! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY AEMOND FICS OF THISS??? HELP ME FIND MORE CUZ I NEED TO HAVE A RIDE ON A DRAGONNNNN. Imagine the refreshing air and scenery. (I personally imagine the beautiful pink/orange clouds from Httyd when Hiccup and Astrid fly together for the first time)😭⚰️

Also, about the death threats, you handled it well. Really, when everyone finds out you like a hated character, it’s like they are trying to get you to sign your own death sentence. Anyway, keep doing you. You write exceptionally 🤭🫶 ily

PROMISE NOT TO DROP ME? ONLY A FOOL WOULD DROP YOU. ( HOTD x Reader )

pairing: Prince Aegon ii Targaryen x Lady-in-waiting! Reader prompt: Aegon kidnaps you to ride on dragonback, it does not go well. word count: 1, 000+ words

You had been very very firm when it came to dragon's. You were no Targaryen nor held a drop of Valyrian blood in your veins. Sure, you like to gawk at them in art. The dozen paintings, stained glass windows, and books that filled the Red Keep were enough. You would never dare to go near one in real life. Dragon’s were not natural. To ride one, to tame one, it was not natural. A lot of the things that the Targaryen’s did were not natural.

So when you started as Helaena's Lady-in-waiting, you did everything you could to politely refuse to be near them. Need to go to the Dragonpits? The carriage was nice and comfy, no need to leave it. When Helaena offered to fly with her? Suddenly you grew ill with a cough. Helaena accepted, understanding your fears. She offered kind words and an open invitation should you ever change your mind on the matter.

Aegon was, as always, different. The word 'no' just could not connect in that tiny little brain of his. He took it as a challenge. He would jest about kidnapping you and taking you flying. You laughed and told him you'd push him out of a window if he dared to do it.

Of course, he had tried once with a look a little too serious on his face. After waddling away, clutching his groin from your hard kick, he learned that it would not be easy to get you on dragonback. You’d fight back. You would be a challenge, he liked that a lot.

Kicking and screaming at the top of your lungs, you did everything you could think of to get free of Aegon's hold. Clawing at his arms wrapped around your waist, he dragged you along to the Dragonpits, the dragon keeper's onlooking in confusion and mild horror. You could give less of a shit if they thought you mad. There was no way in the Seven Hells that you were going on a flight with Aegon. You'd rather kiss the King's rotten lips than to go flying.

"No! Put me down, you drunken oaf!" You shout, thrashing against him.

"No."

"I am going to kick you so hard you'd never be able to get it up again, Aegon! Put me down!" You bellow, yanking at his hair.

"Not a chance, we are going flying." Aegon brushes off your threats, "You will enjoy it. Tis' delightful."

Letting out a loud scream into his ear, he did not falter, running off of pure spite and stubbornness. It would have been admirable, if it was not for the fact he was dragging you along to go flying. Yanking hard on his hair, he yelps loudly, though his grip does not falter. Gods damn it, why did he have to be strong? Sensing that fighting would not help you, you tried another way.

"Please, please, Aegon." You beg, "I'll give up my desserts for a whole moon. Just let me go."

"Tempting." He chuckles, a smirk on his face.

"Please, Aegon. I do not wish to fly." You beg, on the verge of tears.

"I fly all the time. Once I even did it drunk, tis' nothing dangerous." He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Shaking your head frantically as his grip tightens, he drags you into the dark cave, the stench of dragon thick in the air. The few torchlights in the cave illuminated enough to see his dragon, Sunfyre, burrowing into his rocky nest. Feeling tears of fear bubbling up, you go deadly silent, losing your voice. This was your worst dream come true. Face to face with a dragon. Holding back the whimper in your throat, Aegon presses a kiss onto your temple, refusing to let you go.

“He won’t harm you. He’s used to your scent.” Aegon whispers into your ear, “I brought him one of your dresses to smell.”

“Let me go.” You whimper out, voice full of pure terror.

“Come on, you’re already here. Let’s just go for a quick flight.” Aegon argues, shaking his head dismissively.

“Aegon..”

Slowly letting go of your waist, you go to bolt for the cave exit, only to be swept back up into Aegon’s arms. He carried you like a toddler who had a habit of running away. Letting out a loud cry as he refused to put you back down, he wags his finger mockingly, a half amused look on his face. Hearing Sunfyre stir in his nest, you try more desperately to get away, the rumbling of the dragon echoing loudly in the cave.

“No, no, no.” He scolds, “Bad Y/n. No running away.”

“Put me down! I want to go back to the Red Keep!”

“No, if I have to attend Court, then you cannot escape this.” He suggests, “Consider this your duty.”

“Fuck duty. Put me down, Aegon!” You sob, bottom lip wobbling.

“Ooh, so now we do not care about duty, hm?” He mocks, shaking his head with a smirk.

Pressing a gentle kiss onto your temple, he carried you closer and closer to Sunfyre, until the two of you were right in the dragon’s face. Feeling your grip tighten on him, he slowly smiles at the feeling, like see you so unlike yourself. This had to be the first time he had seen you act so improper and anxious. It was refreshing, amazing, and amusing all at the same time.

Smiling bright as Sunfyre stirs away, the golden dragon huffs at the two of you, his two large green eyes staring back. Puffing his chest out in pride, he hoped the sight of his dragon would impress you and make you swoon. His dragon always got compliments. Looking down at your face, there was not an ounce of admiration or awe or anything positive, only terror.

“He’s pretty is he not?” He gloats proudly, “You know, they say he is the prettiest dragon to have ever been hatched.”

“If I survive this, I am going to kill you.” You whisper out, face pale.

“Stop speaking as if you are going to die. Sunfyre would not dare to attack, not whilst I am here.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ve seen your dragon, can we leave now. I want to go back to the Red Keep, Aegon.” You whimper, tears bubbling up in your eyes.

"No. Don't you dare." He argues, "Don't you dare do the whole crying trick on me. I am not foolish like Helaena and can be swayed."

Watching as you sniffle and whimper, his grip tightens on you, not wanting to give up just yet. Seeing the big puppy dog eyes you give him, he grits his teeth, tensing up. He falter's for a moment. He was always sucker for those big puppy dog eyes of yours. You knew how to make him crumble.

"No, no, no, don't give me that look." He tries to resist.

"Please, Aegon."

"No. Stop that." He shakes his head, "Stop that right now. I demand you stop that."

"I..I want to go home, Aegon. Please, take me home." You beg, sniffling.

Letting out an exasperated groan at you begging and pleading to go home, he begrudgingly agrees to it, knowing that it would be no fun if you cried the entire time. Scowling like a child who had its toy taken away, he loosens his grip on you, putting you back down onto your feet. One day he’d get you on dragonback. Sadly, just not today.

"Aegon, please, I want to go home." You whimper, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“Fine, fine, stop crying.” He grumbles, “But next time, we are going to actually get on the dragon.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

@fragileheartbeats

@nightvers

@zaldritzosrose

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chukys-mouthguard · 5 months ago

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23. “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

luke with his gf

Prompt: “Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

Note: i feel like Luke is so hard for me to read that i had to do research before writing this 😂 like Jack and Quinn give off energy and vibes that are easy for me to read, Luke is literally the opposite, so hopefully i did him justice for my first time writing with him

“Oh my gosh, what a day!”

With a sigh you fell back onto the couch, Luke softly chuckling at you as he unpacked the takeout you’d ordered from your favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Yeah, it was really fun. Can’t wait to see how many hearts break when photos end up online of Jack and his girlfriend out there.”

Joining Luke in the kitchen you searched for your takeout container while he handed you a plate. “Yeah, Jack is gonna be Mr. Heartbreaker for a few days. The girls will get over it I’m sure.”

The two of you taking your food over to the living room, this becoming a routine you’d shared in your relationship for a few months now. Every couple weeks you’d order takeout, trying to be mindful of both of your diets, though Luke’s claims it should be a weekly tradition. The two of you’d sit on the floor around the coffee table and talk for hours while eating dinner.

It was one thing you’d never gotten tired of. Loving the opportunity to enjoy the moments together just the two of you. Always having stories to talk about, especially when Jack and Luke were on the same team. He took every chance to chirp his brother he could.

“Did you see Lazar at family skate today?”

Immediately smiling as you thought back to Lazar on the ice with his wife and son, your heart melting at the thought of it. “Yes, oh my god he is so freaking cute. And Curtis seemed just over the moon getting to share that moment with him.”

Luke nodded as he dragged his fork through his food.

“It sort of makes me excited for the day that I’ll have that, well I mean, we I guess. Not just me.”

Your cheek flushing red at his words, leaving you speechless as he looked away embarrassed. “What??”

He nervously asked as you’d yet to say anything back to him.

“Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

Luke just smiling as his cheeks grew red. He wasn’t the type to be overly emotional, leaving that role to you. But he’d felt comfortable enough to say what was on his mind.

He be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about the future with you, though only having been together a few years, he felt like it had been your whole lives. And judging by the blush on your cheeks and the smile on your face, it seemed like you weren’t opposed to the idea.

“Well, I don’t know. Just seeing guys have moments like that, can’t help but think about it happening to me you know?”

Nodding your head you couldn’t stop smiling, loving this side of Luke where he wasn’t afraid to be open and honest. Letting his guard down a bit and showing some emotion.

Moving to his side you curled up under his arm, wrapping your arms around him as he offered you a bite of his food.

“I love the idea of us having a moment like that one day.” Tilting your head up you gave him a kiss on the cheek as he smiled. “You, me, and our little girl skating around the ice.”

“Oh, you were thinking girl? Interesting, I thought boy.”

Luke shrugged as he stood up, walking to take the empty food containers to the kitchen.

“Well, looks like we are just gonna have to try for one of each then huh?”

Your eyes going wide as you stared at him, Luke just laughing while he cleaned up. “One of each? Oh my gosh, we don’t even have one kid yet and you’re already talking about multiple?”

Luke smirked at you from behind the door of the fridge as he put away the leftovers, enjoying how flustered the conversation had made you.

“It’s never too early to get started, or at least get some practice!”

#luke hughes fic #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fluff #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic

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sugdenlovesdingle · 5 days ago

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a little Tommy & Chim bffs for @rileychester

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"Her ladyship requests, no demands, uncle Buck reading her a story before bed instead of her own mother." Maddie said, walking back into the livingroom after having gone to put Jee to bed half an hour ago.

"What can I say, it's not easy being this popular." Buck joked and extracted himself from where he'd been happily tucked under Tommy's arm on Maddie and Chimney's way too comfortable sofa. He quickly kissed Tommy, murmured something about being right back, and followed Maddie up to Jee's room.

Tommy watched him until he was out of the room and then turned back to Chim who was laughing at him.

"Damn Kinard you've got it bad."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tommy said, trying to act somewhat cool and hide his reddening cheeks behind his wine glass.

"Yeah I'm sure you don't." Chim took a sip of his own drink. "I mean I love Maddie more than anything in the world, but I don't kiss her goodbye when she leaves the room."

"Well maybe you should start." Tommy told him. If he was getting called out, he might as well own it. "It's working pretty well for us."

"She'd probably think I was going crazy and call Hen to come check me over. Who would then also ask me if I'd lost my mind." He said and they both laughed. "But it's good to see you so happy, man. Both of you. Even if I never in a million years would have guessed that you two would end up together."

"Me neither really." Tommy admitted. "I actually almost let your call go to voicemail that night. My shift was almost over and there was bad weather coming in... I just wanted to go home and catch up on some sleep."

"And there was me asking you to steal a helicopter because of a hunch. I'm sure Bobby is still very grateful you didn't ignore me." Chim said and raised his glass at him. "To team who cares!"

Tommy clinked his glass against Chim's.

"Bobby isn't the only one who's grateful. If I hadn't answered that call, i would have missed out on the greatest thing that ever happened to me. i wouldn't have met the love of my life. I wouldn't be here now. I might have downloaded that dating app again that I'd deleted off my phone a few days before or taken Lucy up on her offer to set me up with her friend." Tommy shook his head. "I'm just glad I did answer. it definitely changed my life for the better."

"You're getting sappy in your old age, Kinard." Chimney teased. "When is the wedding? Do I have time to buy a hat?" he joked, expecting Tommy to laugh with him. Only when he didn't say anything Chim really looked at him. "What? Tell me you didn't..."

"I asked Evan to marry me last night." Tommy told him after a beat. "He said yes."

Chimney blinked a few times to process the information.

"Of course he said yes! He's just as crazy about you as you are about him." he got up to hug his friend. "Welcome to the family, man. We'll officially be brothers."

Tommy smiled and finished the last of his wine.

"There is one thing I wanted to talk to you about though..."

"Shoot."

"When Evan and I get married... will you be my best man?"

"It would be the greatest honour of my life."

---

Send me a prompt and I'll write you a ficlet!

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tommy kinard #chimney han

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kiwriteswords · 2 months ago

Note

hotchhotchhotch! it's like you write him extra hot - like sriracha hot - bc he's sososo perfect in your writing! can i request the "saying "i love you" for the first time" with shy!reader?

Hi!! Thank you so much!!! This one turned out to be a little longer than a drabble! Hope you like it!!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Summary: In the high-stakes world of the BAU, you and Aaron Hotchner have shared a quiet, unspoken connection that began as something casual, a way to find comfort amid the chaos. But when a routine case leaves you critically injured, Hotch is forced to confront the depth of his feelings. As he anxiously waits by your side, fearing the worst, Hotch realizes that losing you would break him in ways he never expected.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Technically safe for work, but hints at an intimate relationship.

TW: Canon typical violence, hints at intimacy, angst

The Fear of Falling

You didn’t expect to get shot.

You were trained for it, prepared to face the worst every day, but no one really expects it. You were in the thick of it, chasing down a suspect with Hotch, when it all went wrong. One minute, you had your eyes on him, and the next, pain exploded through your side.

The world blurred around you as you hit the ground, blood seeping into your clothes, your hands, the dirt beneath you. Voices came through muffled, far-off. It wasn’t until Hotch’s voice cut through the haze that reality started to set back in.

The bullet tore through your side, the pain immediate and searing, but in the chaos of the moment, you didn’t have time to process it. Everything around you was a blur—Hotch’s voice barking orders into his radio, the flashing lights of the ambulance, the sound of footsteps pounding the ground around you.

But one thing was clear: Hotch never left your side.

That had always been his way—quiet, steady, dependable. From the beginning, when whatever this was between you had started, Hotch had been there. It hadn’t been some whirlwind romance, no grand gestures or confessions of love. Instead, it was late nights spent together after a long day in the field, where the lines between work and something more blurred. You’d sit close on the jet, your knees brushing under the table as you discussed case files, or spend hours in quiet conversation that had nothing to do with the cases you worked on but everything to do with understanding each other.

The "fling"—as you had quietly labeled it in your head—started as something small, something easy to dismiss. It had begun in the most unexpected way, during a night at a bar after a tough case. The team had gone home, but you and Hotch had stayed, finding some kind of strange comfort in the shared silence over a couple of drinks. It had been weeks of tension, the unspoken attraction between you simmering beneath the surface, and that night, it finally broke. A lingering glance. A brush of fingers. Then, without thinking, you had leaned in, and so had he.

It was never meant to be serious. Neither of you had said as much, but the understanding was there. Hotch had his demons, and you had yours. He was your superior. The weight of those unspoken boundaries hung between you, even as you’d find yourself alone together, the rest of the world falling away for brief moments. Kisses stolen in the shadows of hotel rooms when the team wasn’t looking. Conversations that lasted too long, with gazes that lingered just a bit more than they should have.

You had agreed to keep things casual. Nothing more than companionship in the midst of the chaos of your lives. Neither of you had the space for something deeper, something permanent. Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves. But as the months went on, the way Hotch looked at you began to shift. You noticed the way his eyes softened when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the way he checked on you after a particularly rough case, or how he lingered at your side just a little longer than necessary.

And somewhere along the way, you had begun to care about him more than you should have. You tried to push it down, to remind yourself that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. But the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to pretend--the more painful it became to pretend. The quiet moments, the subtle touches, the way he said your name—it all added up to something neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

“Stay with me.” He was beside you, his hands pressing against your wound, voice stern but shaking. His brows furrowed, eyes fixed on your injury, but his jaw clenched with something much deeper than concern. You could see it, even in your pain-addled state.

“I’m—” You tried to speak, but it was hard to get the words out. You were used to being quiet, used to keeping your thoughts to yourself. That never seemed to be a problem when you were with Hotch. Silence had become a part of the strange rhythm you had with him, this unspoken understanding between two people who couldn’t find the right words but always seemed to know.

Now, though, you felt the need to fill that silence, to say something, anything.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, “you’re going to be okay.”

The grip of his hands tightened, and in a rare moment, his walls seemed to crack. He wasn’t just your boss here. He wasn’t the stern, unflinching leader of the BAU. He was Aaron—someone who had been carrying something for a while, someone who hadn’t yet spoken all the things he needed to say. Someone you cared about more than you ever let on.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, wincing as a fresh wave of pain surged through you. You weren’t sure why you apologized—maybe for being hurt, maybe for all the times you’d kept quiet when you wanted to say more, or maybe for all the times you felt like you were asking too much of him, even when you hadn’t asked for anything at all.

“Why would you apologize?” His voice was tight, but there was a gentleness in it that you’d rarely heard. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do.”

Hotch rode with you in the ambulance, his hand gripping yours, his jaw clenched tight as he stared down at you, concern and fear etched into every hard line of his face. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the way he was barely keeping it together for your sake. Aaron Hotchner was always the one in control, always the one to keep a level head when everything else was falling apart. But right now, it felt like that control was slipping.

As the paramedics worked on you, you could hear the urgency in their voices. The blood loss, the need to stabilize you—it was all happening too fast for you to grasp. The only constant was Hotch’s presence, his voice grounding you, telling you to hold on.

By the time you reached the hospital, the world was fading in and out. The last thing you saw before you were wheeled into surgery was Hotch standing there, his eyes locked on yours, as if he was afraid to let you go.

Hours passed. Hotch didn’t move from the waiting room.

The sterile hospital air seemed suffocating, the hum of fluorescent lights above adding to the unbearable stillness. Time felt warped—minutes dragged into hours, each second stretching endlessly as he waited. His mind was stuck on one thing: you.

Reid was the first to arrive, his face pale as he walked into the waiting room. He wasn’t good with hospitals, and Hotch knew it. His hands fidgeted with the strap of his bag as he approached. “Hotch,” he said softly, “how is she?”

Hotch didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes fixed on the swinging doors down the hall, the ones that led to the surgical ward. “She’s still in there.”

Reid sat down beside him, the silence between them heavy. Hotch could feel the younger man glancing at him occasionally, probably wanting to say more, but holding back. Reid wasn’t someone who pushed when others needed space. But even his quiet presence wasn’t enough to pierce the fog of worry clouding Hotch’s mind. After a few minutes, Reid left, muttering something about needing to call Garcia for an update.

Hotch barely registered it.

Morgan came next, his energy a stark contrast to the stillness that had settled over the room. He strode in, his expression serious but determined. “How’s she doing, man?”

Hotch shook his head, his fingers gripping the edge of the chair. “They haven’t told me anything yet.”

Morgan sat across from him, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward. “She’s tough. She’s gonna pull through.”

Hotch nodded, but the movement felt mechanical. Empty. His mind was spinning with worst-case scenarios, a constant replay of the moment you went down. The blood. The way your body crumpled. His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the memory. He could still feel the warmth of your blood on his hands as he tried to stop the bleeding.

“She’ll make it,” Morgan added quietly, his voice softer now. He was trying to comfort Hotch, trying to be there in the way he always was for the team. But Hotch didn’t have it in him to respond. He barely acknowledged the weight of Morgan’s words before he stood abruptly, pacing to the window.

He stared outside, seeing nothing but the reflection of the waiting room. His reflection. And behind it, Morgan, looking at him with quiet concern. But Morgan didn’t say anything else. After a few minutes, he got up, clapped Hotch on the shoulder, and left, probably to update the rest of the team.

Rossi arrived last. The older man walked in with the calm, steady air that he always carried, but even he couldn’t mask the worry etched into his features. He had been doing this job longer than any of them, and Hotch knew he had seen more than his share of teammates in the hospital. But that didn’t make this any easier.

“How’re you holding up?” Rossi asked, standing beside Hotch by the window.

Hotch didn’t answer right away. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, fingers clenched into tight fists. He stared out at the city below, his jaw working as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “I’m fine,” he finally muttered, his voice tight.

Rossi didn’t buy it, of course. “You’re not fine, Aaron. None of us are when someone we care about is lying on an operating table.”

Hotch flinched at that. Care. The word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. He knew what Rossi was implying—what everyone had probably suspected for a while now. But this wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now.

“I should’ve been faster,” Hotch muttered, his voice barely audible. “I should’ve seen it coming.”

Rossi shook his head. “You can’t think like that. We all know the risks. So does she.”

Hotch clenched his fists tighter, the anger and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “She’s in there because of me. If I’d been quicker, more careful...”

“She’s in there because it’s the job. You did everything you could.” Rossi’s voice was firm, but it didn’t soothe the guilt gnawing at Hotch’s insides.

The silence stretched between them, and Rossi eventually gave him a small nod before heading out. He knew better than to push Hotch when he was like this. And Hotch knew that, deep down, Rossi was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you were in surgery, and he was standing here, helpless.

The minutes dragged on. He glanced at the clock. Then at the doors. His mind was racing—picturing every possible outcome, every scenario, from best to worst. He had never felt more useless in his life. Out in the field, he knew what to do. There was always a plan, always a course of action. But here? Here, he was just waiting.

And Hotch wasn’t someone who did well with waiting.

He leaned against the window, his hand rubbing his face as exhaustion tugged at him. The pressure in his chest was unbearable. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not after everything you’d been through together—every quiet moment, every glance that spoke louder than words. He had never said it, never admitted how deeply he cared for you. Not to you, not to himself. But now... now he didn’t have a choice.

He loved you.

And if he lost you, he wasn’t sure how he would put himself back together again.

He paced the waiting room some more, his hands running through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. He wasn’t supposed to lose it. But the image of you lying there, bleeding, the sound of your voice barely above a whisper, haunted him. He could still feel your hand slipping from his grasp as they took you into the operating room.

“Hotch,” Emily said softly, placing a hand on his arm to stop him mid-pace. “She’s strong. She’s going to make it.”

He nodded but didn’t trust himself to speak. What could he say? That he wasn’t strong enough for this? That, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was falling apart?

When he finally sat down, it was with a heavy sigh. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this unhinged, this terrified of losing someone.--Not since Haley.

But you weren’t Haley. You were different.

Haley had been the love of his life—the mother of his child, the person who had seen him through some of his darkest moments. But his love for her had been rooted in something that had bloomed long before the BAU took over his life, before the job hardened him, before the tragedies that followed had changed him. Haley had seen him as a younger man, unburdened by the weight of the world. And even after everything, she had always held a place in his heart.

But you... you were different.

You had become a part of his life without him even realizing it, quietly slipping into the spaces Haley had left behind. At first, he had resisted it. After Haley, he had sworn that he wouldn’t let himself feel that deeply for someone again. The loss had been too great, too painful. He had told himself that he didn’t have time for it, that he didn’t deserve it. His job demanded too much, and he had already paid the price once.

But then there had been you.

Your presence had been subtle, almost imperceptible at first. There were the late-night debriefs after a long case, the quiet conversations in the jet, the moments of silence that somehow felt more comfortable than words. You never pushed, never demanded more than he was willing to give. You didn’t need to. You just were—steady, present, a constant in his life that had become more and more important without him even realizing it.

And now, sitting here, waiting for news on whether you’d pull through, he knew there was no going back. He couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t push away what had been building between you.

Because somewhere along the way, you had become more than just another colleague, more than just another person he cared about. He wasn’t sure when it had happened—maybe it was during a quiet evening when you had shared a rare laugh, or maybe it was when you had listened to him without judgment after a particularly brutal case. Or maybe it had been a thousand little moments that had piled up until he couldn’t ignore them anymore.

Whatever it was, he couldn’t deny it now.

He was in love with you.

It wasn’t something he had planned, or something he had even wanted at first. But it had crept up on him, slowly and surely, until the thought of losing you terrified him more than he had ever been willing to admit.

He had tried to keep his distance, to keep things professional. After all, what business did a man like him have getting involved with someone like you? He was too old, too broken. You deserved someone who wasn’t carrying the kind of baggage he did. But every time he was near you, every time you smiled or laughed, or even just sat quietly with him in comfortable silence, it chipped away at the walls he had so carefully built.

And if something happened to you—if he lost you now—he wasn’t sure he could survive it.

It had been so easy to fall for you. Too easy.

Now, he was terrified that he’d never get the chance to tell you.

When you finally woke up, groggy from the anesthesia, the first thing you noticed was the stiffness in your side. The second was the sound of steady breathing beside you.

Turning your head slowly, you saw him. Hotch was sitting in the chair next to your bed, looking far more disheveled than you’d ever seen him. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the exhaustion in his eyes was unmistakable. He hadn’t left.

“Hotch?” you murmured, your voice weak, but the relief of seeing him made your heart ache.

His head snapped up, and the relief that washed over his face was palpable. He stood immediately, leaning over you, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You’re awake,” he said softly, and you could hear the unspoken worry in his voice. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you admitted, trying to give him a small smile, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard. You had been lucky, but the fact that it had come to this—lying in a hospital bed after being shot—felt like a wake-up call.

The bubbling of feelings in your chest out-ached the pain from the bullet. You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t pretend that your feelings for him didn’t run deeper than you ever intended. And you couldn’t ask him to risk his heart again, not after everything he had been through.

“I think...” you started, your throat dry, “I think we should stop whatever this is.”

Hotch blinked, the words seeming to hit him like a physical blow. “What?” he asked, his voice low, like he hadn’t quite heard you correctly.

“I just—” You paused, unsure of how to explain the storm of emotions inside you. “I’ve caught feelings, Hotch. And I don’t think that’s fair. Not to you, not to me. It’s... too much.”

His face hardened, but not in anger. It was the mask he wore when he was trying to keep himself in check, to not let his emotions spill out.

“I don’t want to make things harder for you,” you continued, your heart aching with each word. “I don’t want to ask for more than you can give. I know you’ve already been through enough.”

“You think you’re asking too much of me?” His voice was quiet but firm, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your chest tighten. “You’re the one who just got shot, and you think you’re the problem here?”

You tried to sit up, but the pain made you wince, and he was immediately by your side, his hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down. “You don’t understand,” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over now. “I’m in love with you, and I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it did, and now I don’t know what to do because I can’t keep pretending that I don’t care.”

The silence that followed felt heavy, suffocating. You expected him to walk away, to tell you that this was why he had always kept his distance, why he hadn’t let things get too deep. But instead, he surprised you.

“I love you too.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, his words hanging in the air between you. You weren’t sure you had heard him right.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while,” he continued, his voice rough, as if it hurt him to admit it. “I just... I didn’t think I could ask that of you. I’m not... I’m not the man I used to be, and I thought you deserved more than someone like me. Someone who’s been through what I have.”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re everything to me, Hotch. I don’t care about the rest.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. His hand reached for yours, his grip firm but gentle, and the weight of everything unsaid between you seemed to settle.

“You scared the hell out of me today,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “And I realized I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.”

The tears came then, and you didn’t try to stop them. You had been holding back for so long, afraid of what it would mean to let yourself feel this way, to let yourself fall for him. But now, it didn’t matter. He was here. You were both here.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “And neither are you.”

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #kiwriteswords

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theemporium · 8 months ago

Note

Congrats on 10k! I absolutely love your writing! It always makes me feel warm and fuzzy 💕

I was wondering if I could request violet fluff 💜 prompt #31 with James Potter? Thanks so much, hope you’re having a great day 🥰

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

31. “I’ve been in love with you since the day we met."

James Potter honestly thought he was losing his mind.

He liked to pride himself over the fact he was good with people: talking to them, understanding them, observing them. He was a social butterfly and fairly empathetic, and he could talk to a brick wall and somehow still make it one of the most entertaining conversations people have ever witnessed.

He tended to thrive in social situations, basking in the attention when the spotlight was on him. He was never made for the shadows or outskirts. He was made to be the person someone could always rely on in public, the one who could change the conversation when needed or keep things from becoming stagnant and awkward.

But all of those skills felt redundant and useless when it came to you.

Because, here’s the thing—James is, like, ninety-nine percent sure that you aren’t doing it on purpose which honestly makes the whole thing worse.

James Potter is not a subtle man. Far from it, if anyone is concerned. He is open with his feelings and wants and desires and dreams. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he wears it proudly. And he has been flirting with you since day one.

And you flirt back. He swears you flirt back. Hell, despite the way they mocked how lovesick and besotted he was, even his friends were sure you flirted back because that was the only way to describe your banter. It was flirty and teasing and, on some occasions, mimicked that of an old married couple.

But just when James thinks he is finally getting somewhere with you, you pull a total one-eighty on him and he is left thinking that you are unaware of it all. That maybe—just fucking maybe—you are oblivious to James’ obvious and unsubtle attempts.

He is also pretty sure you don’t realise that half of your hangouts with the boy were his attempts at asking you on a date.

And he was losing his goddamn mind.

It’s almost ironic that all it would take was a potions assignment for things to come together.

“It’s a simple potion, there really shouldn’t be any mistakes or problems,” Slughorn announced as he wandered through the room, his robes swishing behind him with each step. “If you have any problems, just ask but this potion should be easy for your age.”

And the thing was, yeah, it was pretty easy. James looked at the instructions and it was something he could have done with his eyes closed if he really wanted to.

But Remus wasn’t in class today, instead deciding to take the day off with the full moon having just passed. And your usual partner wasn’t in either. And now you were partners together and you were really pretty and, honestly, James couldn’t be blamed for being a little distracted.

He also didn’t know that fucking up the potion would turn it into an accidental truth serum.

In fact, he didn’t even realise until the two of you were too busy laughing at Slughorn demanding the two of you go to the bathrooms to clean up, halfway down the corridor when he turned to look at you and just blurted out the words before he could stop himself.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

You paused, shoes squeaking against the floor as you looked at him with wide eyes. “What did you say?”

And before he could even try to come up with an excuse, he was talking again. “I said you’re pretty. Because you are. I always think you’re pretty but you’re prettier when you laugh.”

You blinked. “You really think that?”

“Of course I do,” James retorted, almost snorting a little at the incredulous tone of your voice. “I think you’re one of the most gorgeous girls in this world. It’s why I flirt with you, like, every day.”

Your cheeks warmed. “Oh.”

“I’ve been in love with you since the day we met,” James continued because he couldn’t really bring himself to stop. “And I really want to kiss you all the time. I just don’t know if you like me back or not.”

“I do,” you blurted out, but there was a smile on your face—even if it was a little shy. “I do like you back. And I want to kiss you too.”

“Sweet,” James grinned and then, because he was a man of action and promises, he closed the distance between the two of you.

His warm palms cupped your cheek, his body pressed against every inch of your own before he kissed you. It was dizzying and slightly surreal. It made your head spin when his tongue swiped over your lips before exploring your mouth. It made your knees buckle when a low groan sounded from the back of his throat.

But it was everything the two of you wanted and more.

And yeah, maybe James Potter was going to lose his mind if this was how good it felt to kiss you.

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months ago

Text

homework

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'let's talk about that'

rated t | 990 words | no cw | tags: therapy, gareth pov, personal growth, self-discovery

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Gareth hates therapy.

Okay, hate might be a strong word.

He dislikes it strongly and wishes he could just write in a journal or something.

“Let’s talk about that some more,” the therapist, Jessica, smiled encouragingly.

“Talk about what?” He genuinely has no clue what she wants to hear more about.

“Your need for validation from your bandmates.”

Oh. That.

He wouldn’t really call it a need. He just doesn’t ever do anything that they’d dislike him doing. Even if it would make him happy.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You mentioned that sometimes you have ideas for songs, but you know one of them won’t like it, so you don’t suggest it. Why don’t you give it a try even if they don’t like it?” She clarified.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“Because Jeff and Eddie basically run the band. They come up with most of the shit we do, I just add the drums,” he explained. “It’s worked that way this long, why disrupt the flow?”

“Do they tell you not to give your opinion?”

“Of course not. They always ask what I think.”

“And you choose to not give them honesty.”

“I…”

He didn’t realize that’s what was happening. And he hates that it took a therapist to figure it out.

“I’m not lying to them!” He rushed to say.

“Maybe not. But you’re not being completely truthful, either. Do you think they’d be upset if they knew that you were holding back to maintain the peace?”

Gareth hates therapy.

If Steve hadn’t insisted they all go twice a month, he wouldn’t even be here. If Sam hadn’t backed Steve up, a knowing smirk on his face when Gareth and Frankie argued they didn’t need therapy, he would be sitting on his couch or behind his drums.

“I guess there’s a chance they would be a little upset,” he finally admitted. “But not nearly as upset as if I disagreed with them and we argued.”

“How do you know a disagreement would lead to an argument?”

“Because all disagreements lead to arguments. Arguments lead to fights and silence and cold shoulders. Cold shoulders lead to people not wanting to be around each other anymore.”

Damn, Jessica was fucking good at her job. He didn’t even mean to say all that.

He didn’t even know he felt all that.

“Is this a pattern you’ve experienced before?” She set her notepad aside, all attention on him.

“I guess, yeah. My parents. My older brother and my dad. My grandparents and my mom. My first best friend.” He shrugged. “Just easier to go along with things. It’s not like I’m not happy.”

“Settling and being happy are two different things.”

“I am happy. Really.”

He is. He’s never been happier, actually. He gets to do the coolest job in the world with his best friends, he has a boyfriend he loves more than anything, and he gets to drink his favorite coffee every morning. Life is great.

“Do you think that happiness stems from the peace you’ve forced yourself to accept or from being content in your life?” Jessica leaned forward.

“Do you do this with everyone? Is this magic?” He asked, suddenly having the overwhelming urge to cry or run or both.

She laughed. “No, it’s not magic. It’s just understanding my people. You don’t give me much to work with, but sometimes something sticks out and I can run with it.”

“Seems like magic.” He sighs. There’s no way out of this conversation. “What am I supposed to do? Cause problems until no one wants me in the band anymore?”

“No. Do you want actual advice or do you wanna try to figure it out yourself?” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m pretty sure you won’t like my advice.”

“I don’t like most of what you say.”

“Fair enough.” She smiles. “I think you should try being honest next time there’s something you have a different opinion on. No one is going to hate you or want you out of the band. They value your opinion or they wouldn’t have you there to begin with.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Not necessarily. It’s only as hard as you make it.” She makes a note in the planner next to her. “I’m expecting you to give me at least one example of doing this by our next session.”

“Homework? I’m busy enough!” Gareth didn’t want this to get in the way of tour prep. They were starting rehearsals next week and had a few last minute adjustments to make on their album before the tour started.

“And it’s the perfect time to speak up,” she raised a brow, daring him to continue arguing. When he didn’t, she spoke again. “I’m not expecting you to do it all overnight. Just once.”

“Fine.”

****

The first rehearsal was a shit show. It always is, but everyone’s nerves were shot today after barely sleeping and a flight delay keeping two of the tech managers unavailable for an extra few hours.

Frankie snapped on him earlier, but he walked away. That wasn’t the time to follow Jessica’s advice.

Eddie stormed from the room a few minutes ago, said he needed a break to call Steve. He’d been arguing with his guitar tech over which of his five guitars to use for a song.

Gareth started to speak up to give his opinion, but Eddie was already too frustrated.

See, Jessica? This is why you should stay quiet.

But Eddie came back a few minutes later and asked Gareth what he thought.

“The one you use for Blue Night is probably what you should use for Invade. Sounds are similar enough for those songs,” he said without thinking.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eddie agreed, knocking his shoulder against Gareth’s. “Thanks, man.”

“Dunno why he listens to you and not me,” the guitar tech grumbled.

Gareth smiled.

Okay, Jessica. Maybe you were right this time.

#corroded coffin #corrodedcoffinfest #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things

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eepwriting · 5 months ago

Note

• mean brat taming dom ii who is SO soft with u after (my hc says there’s no way he’s not into impact play tbh)

• ivy being the absolute softest gentlest daddy dom ever (tell me he doesn’t give that strong gentle energy. the praise he would give?! UGH)

• primal feral vessel claiming you after chasing you through the forest. right there on the leaf littered floor

• iii edging you over and over on his thigh until you’re sobbing and brain dead (really i just think iii would enjoy being as much of a fucking tease as possible. whispering dirty thoughts in your ear through the day. stealing spicy touches. leading up to when he can finally get you alone and drive you REALLY crazy)

• reader x vessel x ivy threesome. soft daddy dom ivy and mean dom vessel

i have too many filthy ideas but no ability to write them so 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 godspeed, hope these inspire some filth from you!

- thirsty girl 💘

Count ‘em ✶ II x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, impact play (spanking, light slapping, choking, pinching, hair pulling), degradation, oral (m receiving), mean! ii

TRUST when I say I will be returning to this ask to write something for every prompt. Also, THANKS for some ii stuff!! I was feeling bad that I only had one thing wrote for him 🤍🤍

!! mdi !!

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“Move it, I’ve already said it once. That should be enough.” His voice is stern, his eyes serious as he impatiently drums his fingers on his legs.

You knew him well enough at this point to know what his calm demeanor truly meant. Even the way he undressed you minutes before had been slow and careful. Only you knew that the second he got you over his lap, his actions would not be gentle.

You swallow nervously, hoping he can’t hear the sound of your heart about to break through your chest. You knew your brattiness throughout the day had gotten you here. Your unrelenting back talk and attitude wasn’t something you gave ii often, but for whatever reason, you wanted to see how far you could push him today.

You’re slow to move towards him, his full and undivided attention on you feeling as if it was about to burn a hole into the side of your face. He lets you help yourself onto his lap, crawling to lay face down across his spread thighs. His hand is heavy on your back once you get settled, sliding up your spine to rest in between your shoulder blades. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been awfully difficult.” His hand moves up into your hair to tug, pulling your head back slightly. “Hm?”

You think about your answer carefully and decide to just be honest with him. He’d know anyway if you were lying. “I think it’s fun.” Your hand grips his calf when he tugs harder, isolating a chunk of hair at the crown of your head. “Fun? To mess with me? To irritate and piss me off to no end? You think that’s fun, is what I’m hearing?” You nod meekly, silently enjoying the pull on your hair. He only hums and reaches his other hand around to wrap around your throat, applying enough pressure to make breathing slightly more difficult, but not enough to make you panic for air.

“Well I don’t think that’s very fun at all. In fact, only a desperate, pathetic little whore would find something like that to be fun. Is that what you are then? A desperate and pathetic whore?” The hand in your hair disappears to grope roughly at your ass before settling on a cheek, leaving a stinging pinch. You take in a short gasp of air at the sting, earning a quiet snicker from ii. His full hand comes down in a dull smack before massaging over your skin. “You make it so easy, you know. Your skin practically begs to be marked up. You seem to want that too, don’t you? You wouldn’t act up if you didn’t.” Another, this time harsher smack is dealt. “I didn’t get an answer to my question.” The hand around your throat tightens.

Your eyes close in a long blink before you attempt a nod. He makes a sound of disappointment next to you. “You know you’re supposed to use your words. Don’t play dumb.” His hand moves to the back of your thigh to pinch and pull at the skin.

You squirm and squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes. I’m a desperate and pathetic whore.” This earns you a groan and another spank. “There you go. Maybe you can follow instructions. Why don’t you count ‘em for me, hm?” His touch is soft as he runs his hand up your back. Your mumbled and nervous “okay” is enough for him to swat at your ass again. He waits for your response before landing another. “2…” The pain is tolerable but you know he’s just warming up.

He lands 10 solid smacks, each progressively getting harsher before massaging his hand over your stinging skin. You hiss at the touch and make a poor attempt to shift your hips away from him. “I like watching you jolt from the pain. The little gasps you let out.” The hand around your throat moves to run through your hair.

He repeats the same actions on the other cheek, but doesn’t build up at all. The 10 makes your skin sting, like hot fire, your eyes watering at the repeated blows. II knows you can take it, knows you enjoy it. Clearly evident by the way moans and whimpers flood out of your mouth and your hips grind down on his thigh.

He lets you rest, massaging his fingers over your scalp, his other hand lightly scratching over your back. “On your knees now.” He says after his moment of quiet tenderness. Excitement blooms in your stomach, ready and aching to take more than just his harsh hands. You’re slow to move off his lap and even slower to sink to the floor. The skin on your ass is hot against your calves and ankles, a dull but persistent sting radiating as you get situated on your knees.

II cups the sides of your face, moving your head side to side as he looks down at you. His thumbs move over your cheeks before he leans down to press his mouth to yours. It’s harsh and rushed. Teeth clashing together before he bites over your bottom lip. His hand returns around your throat before he drags you up to stand on your knees. He roughly grips your hip, digging his fingertips into the skin, hard enough you’re sure to see a bruise in the morning. He licks into your mouth a final time before breaking away from you. He groans when he looks at you. Hair messed up from his hands, lips red and slightly inflamed, the skin on your neck a bright white with how much pressure he’s applying to your throat. His thumb absentmindedly runs over your lips before he hooks it over your bottom lip to force your mouth open. Your tongue comes out to lick over his thumb, earning another low groan from ii. “Such a pretty mouth. I’m gonna fuck it.” His thumb messily runs over your outstretched tongue. An inadvertent whimper comes from you at those words, your hands impatiently grabbing at his thighs. He snickers at you before standing to remove his jeans.

Both his hands cradle your head in surprising tenderness but his eyes and facial expression are cold and stern as he looks down at you. He lightly slaps your cheek twice and you take that as a cue to open your mouth for him. He hums, sliding one hand to the back of your head. He wastes no time in sliding his cock fully into your awaiting mouth. II’s jaw clenches and his hips buck towards you when your lips wrap around him. “Put that mouth of yours to good use.” He grunts, cock moving in and out of your mouth quickly. His too tight grip on your hair makes you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut. A harsher slap lands on your cheek. “You keep your eyes on me.” It almost comes out in a growl as he practically straddles your face, forcing his cock as far into your mouth as he can. He doesn’t let up despite your watering eyes, gags and nails digging into the skin on his thighs.

You know he’s close when the sounds he lets out become higher pitched and the rhythm of his thrusts turn disjointed. “Take it. Be good and take it.” He breathes out before letting out a long groan. His movements pause as he cums at the back of your throat, his hand holding your head close to him. You breathe through your nose and patiently wait for him to pull away from you. You can finally close your eyes, forcing leftover tears down your cheeks when he backs away. You stay looking up at him, his chest heaving, eyes heavy and relaxed now.

He lazily reaches out to brush over the top of your head and wipe over your cheeks. He holds his hand out for you, letting you take your time in rising to your feet. He pulls you into a long hug, hands running up and down your back. He guides you to lay on the bed, insisting you lay on your stomach. He lays next to you for a short while, asking you repeatedly if you’re okay, peppering kisses on the side of your face. He leaves your side and comes back with water and an ice pack. He watches you sip the water while holding the ice on your still red hot skin. He coos at you when you wince, shuffling closer to you as he watches you with concern filled eyes.

Your tiredness eventually catches up to you and you’re not sure how long you’ve dozed off before you feel ii straddle your hips. You whine when his hard again cock pushes against you. “Mm, don’t touch…it’s too much.” You furrow your brows and try to shift away from his hands that brush over your aching skin. “Shhh, I know, love. You’ve been so good for me…wanna help you. I’ll be gentle. I promise.” His voice is quiet as he leans over you, nuzzling his head against your neck. He lazily mouths over your skin and ever so slowly inches into you.

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The way I could not focus for more than 5 minutes while writing this 🙃 I had different plans for this but I just could not use enough brain power to write it lol

BUT I’m so excited to return to this ask!!! So many good ideas 👏🏻 thank you again anon 💘

Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed!

K. Bye bye.

#sleep token #sleep token worship #sleep token fic #sleep token x reader #sleep token smut #sleep token ii #ii sleep token #sleep token ii x reader #ii x reader

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misc-obeyme · 9 months ago

Note

hellooo i’m here for your event !!

is it okay to request mammon headcanons for hurt with comfort? ik you already have a request for him so :’)

just something like he’s insecure about if mc loves him or not (maybe they spent the day with another brother) so mc comforts him :D ofc if you have your own ideas that’s great too ^^

have a great day <33

Hello there!!

I really don't mind writing multiple things for the same character! It's usually just the prompts I don't want to repeat lol. Anyway, I did use the idea that MC spent time with someone else - in this case I decided to have it be Lucifer specifically. Hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Mammon

Warnings: uh just jealous Mammon lol

Mammon tries to convince himself he isn't jealous when he sees you with one of his brothers. He's able to push it down most of the time, knowing that you see his little brothers as family. They mean as much to you as they do to him. Watching you be there for them only causes a slight twinge of that feeling and he finds it's easy to overlook it. But things are a little different when it comes to his older brother.

Lucifer is the responsible, upstanding demon that Mammon could never be. Whenever you're with Lucifer, Mammon can't think clearly. He can't stop imagining you falling in love with his more competent brother. He sees you being impressed, as you should be, with everything that Lucifer is and can do. He sees you realizing you'd be better off with a demon like Lucifer.

The worst part is that he can't argue with that. He knows it's true. Deep down, he knows he's not good enough for you. Lucifer can be everything you need, everything he can't be. And it makes him crazy knowing that no matter what he does, he just can't compare.

And it isn't just that he feels that inadequacy. It's also that he's seen you with Lucifer. The way you smile at him, the way your eyes go soft… you look at Lucifer the way Mammon wants you to look at him. And when that happens, he starts to wonder. He wonders if you really love him after all. Is he even lovable to begin with? Out of all his brothers, why would you ever choose him? Especially when Lucifer is right there being perfect and handsome and everything anyone could ever want?

Mammon tries not to let you see how he's feeling. He keeps his distance, pretending you aren't spending the day with his brother, pretending that seeing you together doesn't make his gut twist uncomfortably. He tries to act cool and calm. You can't know about the knots that are tangling up inside him.

When you find him later, he's keeping up the pretense. He thinks he's doing a good job until you call him out on it. You ask him what's wrong and he blushes immediately. He can't tell you! He can barely look at you. How embarrassing would it be to say that he was jealous of you spending time with Lucifer? To say that he's started to question your feelings because of it? To say that he's terrified that you'll slowly slip away only to settle instead into Lucifer's arms?

You may not know exactly what he's thinking and there is a slim chance that he'll actually tell you, but you know your demon well. He's so busy trying to pretend he's fine that he doesn't realize that you're onto him. He doesn't realize until you ask. And when you do, he's flustered because of course you could tell. He wasn't going to fool you. What made him think he could? He stutters out something about how there's nothing wrong, but you're not buying it.

You take his face in your hands to make him look at you. Your fingers are cool against his flushed skin, which only makes him blush harder. He doesn't want to face you, but he can't pull away. Your eyes gaze into his, clear and serene. There's a flutter inside him when he sees how you're looking at him. Like he's your universe. Like he's everything.

And it turns out he doesn't even have to say it. You've already figured it out. You tell him that he doesn't need to worry. That it doesn't matter how much time you spend with any of his other brothers. That he's the one you'll always come back to. He's the one you love. He's the one you'll shower with kisses. He's the one that makes you feel like you're home.

Mammon can't stop himself. He pulls you into his body because he has to feel you as close as possible. He needs to have you in his arms, needs to know you'll never leave him, needs to press you against his heart. Ya make him crazy, MC. Don't ya know how much he loves ya? You do. You always have. And then you can't say anything more because Mammon can't stop kissing you.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #omnb #omswd #obey me mammon #om mammon #obey me mammon x reader #om mammon x reader #obey me mammon x mc #om mammon x mc #obey me x reader #misc cozy comforts #misc writes

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thetravelingmaster · 8 days ago

Text

Co-Written Story: Southern Hospitality

Male & Female Point of View - Hypnosis

Note: This story is a collaboration with another author and it was written with : @hypwriter.

It was a few months ago, but we decided to work together after we got to talking about different stories we liked. Much like I did with other authors before, I proposed that we collaborate on a story inspired by the wonderful picture of Hannah Palmer. As I did before we would work together, but also seperately.

I would write from the point of view of Jessie, while he wrote from Ethan's point of view. He began by writing from Ethan's point of view and sent me his introduction. I then picked up the flow of the story from his words and wrote from Jessie's point of view before sending it back to him so he could continue and so on!

It was challenging and fun to write. Enjoy!

Ethan

I knocked on her door this time; almost sure it was going to work. She had moved in almost a month ago, and I’ve been steadily making Jessie's acquaintance for the past few weeks. She was the prissy southern belle who never really gave anyone the time of day, but she was also a pushover and being the guy with the strong back, we made small talk as I helped her move in.

"Howdy! What’s new in your neck of the woods?" she greeted me joyfully, bouncing on her heels before settling down, tilting her head to the side coyly. My train of thought was derailed for a moment by the sight of those tits jutting out in front, almost begging to be groped.

*SNAP*

"Southern Hospitality dictates you should always greet select guests properly by being on your knees. It feels so natural and comfortable to follow proper southern hospitality."

I've been training her the past few weeks, making her into a good hostess. She always had Southern hospitality in her, she just needed something to bring it out. Her face went blank and emotionless for a second before coming out of her stupor giving a silly grin, dropping to her knees with a graceless thud.

"Have you forgotten your manners, pretty pet? Aren't you going to invite me in?" I said brazenly, knowing full well who was in control here.

"Ummm I'm sorry, Sir. Would you like to come in?" she asked when prompted.

I brushed her hair back and she leaned into it. She mewled a muffled moan as I took my hand away and stepped inside to make my way to her new sofa. With another snap and point, she crawled over to her spot beside the couch, lifting her eyes up to meet mine for a split second before shyly looking away. I rewarded her by sticking two fingers out, allowing her to slowly suck and fulfill her oral fixation as she knelt by my side like an obedient little pup.

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

Jessie

My heart raced as I knelt at Ethan's feet, sucking on his strong fingers. Things had evolved so quickly between us that I never really stopped to think about it. He had offered his help when I moved in and I was incredibly grateful for it. I wasn't what you call a well-organized person, so I hadn't thought things through at all. None of my friends were free to help, so having Ethan's strong arms to lug my boxes up the stairs felt like a Godsend.

Besides... I couldn't say no to such a well-defined and charming guy.

He was just so easy to talk to! Most guys can get a little intimidated by my looks, but not Ethan. He talked to me as if I was just another friendly neighbor. He asked about a lot of things as we worked to move all my stuff in, and by the time we were done I felt like we were already old friends. We crashed on my newly bought sofa and I offered him a glass of wine to thank him for his help.

After all, it is only natural to offer drinks to your guests. Not to mention the fact he had helped me so brilliantly.

We sipped our glasses and continued to talk. Or... I talked... He was so curious about my life! I didn't mind though... I wanted him to stay so I talked and talked and talked.

The day's work had drained me however and my back was killing me. When I stretched and complained about the pain, he immediately offered to smooth out the knots he figured had formed in my back. Again... My savior! He came up behind me and started what ended up being one of the most relaxing massages I had ever felt.

I think I even dozed off!

After that wonderful first meeting, I found myself thinking about him almost every day.

I started making excuses to bump into him in the hall just to be able to talk to him. For some reason, I found his deep voice irresistible. His general air of confidence started to seep into my dreams as I started to fantasize about what kind of lover he might be. It was clear he admired my body, but his interactions with me never seemed to lead to anything romantic. Even when I started dressing to impress, he would just take note of my sexy attire with his eyes, but ignore it completely with his actions.

That made me realize what a gentleman he was. I woke up one day with a realization that I had stumbled upon a rare specimen of a man. A confident male that understood all too well the intricacies of Southern etiquette and hospitality. A man I found myself desiring... Every day, I grew a little more obsessed with him. With the possibilities...

Until one day, when he came over for drinks, I decided to make my move. Like so many guys before, I flirted and displayed my generous attributes until I found an excuse to come up close to him. He looked down deep in my eyes with a gaze that betrayed the lust he felt for me. I leaned up and kissed him. God... I still remember that kiss so vividly... And the taste... It was like I could TASTE his passion. His lust...

I was instantly hooked. I wanted more...

But before I could move things along, he broke off the kiss and looked down at me. All at once, the lust in his eyes had snuffed out, replaced with disappointment. What had I done wrong? Didn't he want me?

"Don't be so hasty." he scolded. "A majestic southern belle such as yourself shouldn't throw herself at a man like that. It's rude." he said.

I blinked, trying to piece together the words he had said.

*SNAP*

The sound of his fingers echoed in my mind and for a brief moment, I felt disoriented, like his snap was a mental speedbump stopping my train of thought. He had said something, something important, but I couldn’t focus on that, all I saw were those eyes of his. Those intense eyes.

It’s more polite to make eye contact and give your select guess your full attention.

"I apologize Sir." I said with a vacant smile, somehow acknowledging the comments I barely heard.

"Apology accepted. It's not always easy to push down what we feel. It can sometimes make us forget ourselves."

"I shouldn't have forgotten." I said shyly. "How rude of me to assume you wanted to kiss me. A good and proper southern lady such as myself should always wait to see what a man truly wants before acting on her desires."

"I'm glad you remember yourself." he said with a smile.

The way he made me linger in his arms told me he wasn't against the idea of us evolving things, but he was right, I had to wait until I knew what he wanted. It was only proper and polite of me. Since that evening though, my dreams became increasingly erotic as the taste of his lips kept lingering unto mine. Every bite I took... Every flavor I tasted... Every texture I felt...

It all reminded me of Ethan. As if my mouth had become fixated on the taste of him…

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

Ethan

*SNAP*

Her eyes automatically focused back up to mine, glassy eyes already glazed as if she’d been in a trance this entire time. I had no doubt her mind had just wandered off as her lips and tongued worked languorously on my fingers.

I reached down, teased her nipples, and pulled her up by her tits, eliciting an excited, involuntary gasp of pleasure from her lips. Now upright on her knees, I tugged her dress up and off, hoisting it over her head and into the corner of the living room. Her tits seemed almost too good to be true, big and round and delightfully perky, almost as if they were made to be manhandled. At least that’s what I told her.

I positioned Jessie in the corner of the room, and there she sat, eager to obey now. We started slowly and even in this state of mind I was hesitant to really push her hard at this stage. I started her off with a few helpful phrases we had worked on for the past few weeks.

*SNAP*

“Mantra time.” I said coldly, and her mind started to wander back to our daily sessions.

“A proper hostess is a sensitive hostess,” she squirmed involuntarily as she felt her hand rise and brush up against her tits, a shiver working its way through her, making her tits wobble ever so slightly.

She continued to run her hands over her body as her mind slowly started to grind to a halt, her thoughts being replaced by simple, absolute rules I had put in place to make her into the perfect southern belle of a hostess. With her pussy already starting to drip, I reached down between her legs and placed a vibrator between them, making her giggle and gurgle as it buzzed between her thighs.

“Mmmm… A proper hostess presents well to her…umm.. to her guesssttss…” Jessie started to slur her words. She jutted her tits out to present them to her guest.

“A prop… umm.. proper hostessss letsss her guests use her bessst… umm…” She kneeled there, buzzing, searching her head for the right word to use, but all that was coming up was silly thoughts of women being maids, hosting smart men. “… letsss her guests ussse her bessst ssshhtuffss” she said with a giggle, finally coming up with a word there to fit her thoughts perfectly.

She heard a fly unzip, and her hands lifted her big, round tits up to present her best assets to her guest without even needing to think about it.

*SNAP*

“A proper hostess lets her guests use her assets how they want.” I said as I brushed the back of my fingers up against her nipples, causing her to shudder at that slightest touch.

A mindless nod from her and I knew she was ready. Her eyes went wide as my cock grew closer, and as I pushed my cock between her tits, she let out a groan that almost made me cum on the spot. Her hands moved her tits up and down my cock as she gurgled out more mantras that were fit for her as a good hostess now.

“Good hostesssses are goood girls!” she said excitedly, finally being able to release all that passion pent up in her system for weeks on end.

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

Jessie

I could barely hold myself together as the pleasure went from simply seeing Ethan in my home to flaming out to the edge of an orgasm I was holding back for weeks! It felt so good to be able to fulfill my role as a good hostess.

It’s incredible to think that I had forgotten so much about proper southern etiquette since it was at the very core of who I was and how I was brought up. I will forever be grateful to Ethan for his constant visits and his confident relaxing voice as we talked about what being a good host requires.

Being such a respectful man, it was only natural that he remind me of my short comings as a host before he would ever let our friendly neighborhood friendship evolve into something else. Every day, he would remind me just how important it was for a proper southern girl to keep her sexual desires in check while hosting for select guests.

It wouldn’t do at all to let my arousal get out of control just so I could be selfish and satiate my own desires. A good hostess will always wait to see what her guest requires of her and she should never assume she knows what her guests want.

The proper way to be a good hostess is to wait and listen to her guests. Obey their desires and make sure she is fully prepared to help them enjoy her boundless hospitality!

As such, I had to make sure I could keep my arousal under control. Which is why I started to edge myself between Ethan’s visits. Every day he came by, I felt the pull of my attraction towards him and every time, I fought it off and waited for him to tell me what he wanted from his host. It was only the proper thing for me to do and I desperately desired to be the perfect hostess.

It was so hard to resist my own pleasure… Especially when his strong hands would caress my shoulders to help me relax. I almost gave in so many times… Particularly when he started to manhandle my tits! God that was so hard…

But not as hard as keeping my drooling mouth in check.

Every day he visited, I felt the keen taste of him lingering in my mouth from our first and only kiss. Every time he caressed my generous lips, I got another aching taste of him, which only drove my desire for him to new painful heights.

I wanted to kiss him… Lick him… Suck him…

For some reason, I felt this incredible drive to taste every inch of him. And more specifically, his cock…

I fantasized about his cock almost daily as I edged ever closer to a release I couldn’t allow to bloom. I wanted to taste his cock so bad…

Especially since every visit seemed to require me to wear less and less. His touch seeked out more and more of my sensitive flesh as my desire to be the perfect hostess got stronger. Which only made my head swim with intense pleasure as I sometimes forgot what we were doing and where we were.

Lucky for me, Ethan never lost his head and could always snap me back to order.

But tonight…

Ethan got even bolder! I could barely think straight as I saw his cock appear before me through the haze of my pleasure. His cock! God… I wanted his cock so bad…

I completely lost it once he started to pump it between my tits. I couldn’t resist anymore. The pleasure of being a good hostess. The vibrator between my legs… His cock inches from my mouth…

I…

I just HAD to have a taste!

Besides… A good hostess needs to please right?

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

Ethan

“Good hostesssesss neeed too pleassseee” she gurgled happily, kissing my cock in between pumps of her tits. She was in a complete haze now of bliss and euphoria as her mind slowly leaked away, vibrator still writhing and buzzing unceasingly.

“Good hostess,” was all I needed to say to make Jessie squirt, all her mind completely drained away now as she stopped thinking for herself all together.

“Present, little hostess,” was all the prompting she needed to remove the last scrap of clothing between her legs and show off her soaked pussy.

“HHmm… Once I’m done training you…” I said. “I bet you’ll be very excited to come live with me as my maid… You’ll get to host all the time, and present and make sure everything is perfect and spotless. You’ll absolutely love… Won’t you little hostess?”

I walked around in front of her, seeing her tits dangling, mouth drooling without even knowing. I squatted down in front of her, admiring her thousand-yard stare. I brushed her hair back behind her ear and nodded her head yes for her; it’s the least I could do to be a good guest.

As I inserted my shaft in her eager mouth, I knew that I’d never grow tired of her southern hospitality.

#collaboration #co-written #Short story #Southern Hospitality #hannah palmer

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giveafike · 1 month ago

Note

can you do the sfw alphabet for benny too just because the prompts are soooo cute and fluffy 😭 part 2 was so good btw!!! ur v talented i’m jealous

TLDR: SFW alphabet! I borrowed the format from other SFW alphabets I've seen round here! Also lwky long sorry again guys. BUT HAPPY BDAY BEN DAY WOOHOOO

Warnings + Content Ahead: fem reader. SFW, mild swearing (that's my bad) - no real warnings, I don't think?

Azzie Notes ✚: HIII!! i love u sm. I fear...I'm writing part 3 of Game, Set, Match by popular demand (another surprise!) 😭😭 I'm so happy it's getting love tho, that's my first baby on here fr, she's doing well for herself!

I am NOT a good writer, I literally start writing and then jump ahead and on a whole other plot, it takes me ages to fill the plot in the middle. I just want them to kiss n shit bro wdymmm they need to flirt 😭? But ty sm for the compliments and the love!

Also Sorry I take SO long to write stuff bro but I really am swamped - IRL is STRESSSINGGG me out atm (I am FUCKED!), I love sitting here and writing and hashing everything over n over to make sure it's good and adding bits in and I'm not making any mistakes and all that. ANYWAYS!

Anyways, this should go wo saying: all assumptions and guesses, girl idfk anything!!! Shits lwky kinda canon, idk I’m just daydreaming!! Enjoy!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Ben’s not overly clingy, but he’s naturally affectionate in an easy, effortless way. In public, he loves to kiss your forehead, temples, or the top of your head. He might sling an arm around your shoulders or hold your waist when you’re together. He’s also big on playful touches, holding your hand, squeezing it gently, or resting his hand on your thigh while driving. He def likes it when you're holding onto his arm or leaning into him, it makes him feel good knowing you're reaching out for him just as much as he does for you. He’s tactile in a casual, unspoken way, always reaching out to connect with you.

He’d call you simple pet names or silly nicknames, nothing too over the top. When he’s talking about you in interviews or with friends, it’s always, “My baby did this” or “My girl said that” with that casual and proud tone that shows how happy he is to have you in his life and to show you off.

Ben’s love language is just as much about thoughtfulness as it is physical affection. He’s always on the lookout for things that will make you smile, whether that's chocolate that you both like or buying you Sonny Angel dolls or Miffy collectables when he’s on tour. When he gets back, he’ll sit you between his legs while you open them, playing along with you as you guess what’s inside, laughing at how happy you are. He'd feel like the world's best boyfriend seeing how excited and happy you are, like damn I did well this time, I need to do even better next time.

And if you need something for an event, like a dress or accessories, he’s on it immediately, finding the nicest options, and spoiling you with little jewellery pieces just because. I feel like he'd even download Pinterest and follow your boards so he knows what you're into and he'd walk into shops and stores showing them the Pinterest boards and your selfies, like "Okay so this is my girl, do you think she'd pick this?" He loves surprising you, especially when he knows you’ll be excited.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

We all know Ben to be very agreeable and social amongst so many people so I think if you were to start off as friends, he'd be constantly trying to make you laugh, bantering, teasing you and have casual touches like bear hugs when he sees you, fist bumps, hi-fives; the whole lot.

I think he'd want his partner to be able to riff back and forth with him - make jokes, mock and trashtalk him a bit but also support him and keep him smiling. I imagine on his off days when he has a bunch of things to do, like cleaning his car and grocery lists, he'd want you to tag along and bribe you with food, not that you needed a bribe. As your friendship deepens, late-night deep convos where you both open and more intimate interactions are common, like leaning on his shoulder, hugging his arm, wrapping his arms around your shoulders or lying down on your lap.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

I don't think Ben's the type to constantly initiate cuddling and spooning, but if you curl up beside him, his arms are around you instinctively and immediately.

After a tough match or a long stretch of tour, he might collapse onto the couch beside you, resting his head on your shoulder, craving your warmth. He loves it when you play with his hair or plant soft kisses on his head, it’s a quiet way for him to recharge.

On days when you’re feeling down, he’ll be the one letting you curl up on his chest, holding you close, rubbing your back, and kissing your temple.

During movie nights, he’ll keep an arm lazily draped across the back of your seat, his hand occasionally running down to your waist to pull you closer. He loves it when you rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with that soft smile that melts his heart every time.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Ben has said before that he can’t cook too well, but I think he’s downplaying it. He’s the type who can whip up something surprisingly good, especially if it’s a laid-back date night at home or after you’ve had a long day. His go-to (especially if you're rushing to college or work) is probably a smoothie—he makes a mean one.

But if he tried something delicious on tour and thought you’d love it, you can bet he’d try recreating it even if it takes way longer than it should. The recipe says 45 minutes? He’s probably spending three hours to make sure every little detail is perfect, especially if it’s for you. You might find him deep in concentration, the kitchen a bit messy, an apron poorly tied around his waist, but smiling at himself for nailing that final touch. He's even more proud when he sees you enjoying it.

On days when you’re cooking or baking, Ben’s your eager sous-chef. He’ll lean on the kitchen island, talking about his day, tasting what you’re making, and sneaking in little hugs from behind. Expect him to get playful and enthusiastic, acting like he’s in a cooking competition, throwing out “Yes, Chef!” and “Taste and stir? You got it, Chef!” with that cheeky grin of his.

When it comes to cleaning, though, he’s a bit more of a messy guy. You might find his sweaty kits or gear tossed on the floor after a long day of practice. But the minute you call him out, he’s on it, throwing it in the washing machine without hesitation, and eventually, he won’t even need to be told. He's just a big, goofy kid.

As for settling down, Ben wants it one day, but not just yet. He’s got a lot of life to experience with you by his side, whether it’s chasing adventures, or just living in the moment together. He loves the idea of marriage and kids down the line, but he wants to make sure that when that chapter comes, he’s ready and settled enough to be fully present. For now, he’s focused on making memories and achievements, but when the time is right, he’ll be all in for the next big step.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Ben had to end a relationship, I think he’d do it with honesty and respect. He’s not one to ghost or avoid confrontation, so he’d sit down and have a mature conversation. He’d choose a calm, private space, somewhere that feels safe. He'd let you know that he cares and loves you but you're both in different directions with different needs. He would want to part on good terms. He’d make sure you feel heard and understood, and hope to stay civil and supportive.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Ben takes commitment seriously and doesn’t want to rush into it too fast. He wants to be sure of the relationship’s foundation before even thinking about marriage. He believes in growing together first.

Once he’s ready, though, he’d propose in a way that feels meaningful to both of you. No grand public gestures, just something intimate, maybe a quiet beach walk at sunset, or a cozy evening at home, where it’s just the two of you and the life you’ve built together.

I can imagine him getting your friends and family to help set it up, let them in on it and get their approval, but the moment would be about only you two, nothing and no one else.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Ben is incredibly gentle, both physically and emotionally like super, super sweet and kind. He’s always mindful of his strength and size, so his touches are light and tender, like brushing a strand of hair behind your ear or softly tracing your fingers when you hold hands. He'd talk to you in a softer voice than what he uses with his friends or during press conferences, he knows you hear him without needing all the extra noise or refined answers.

Emotionally, if Ben has learned anything from tennis, he’s more than patient and understanding. If you’re upset or feeling low, he’ll give you space to express yourself, asking, “Do you want to talk or just need a hug?” He’s always there, never pushing, but always ready to support you however you need. Even if he's away, he knows it can be hard and difficult but he'd send you gentle, sweet voice messages and videos, and if possible even call, just to remind you that you're always on his mind and in his heart.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Ben loves hugs, but they’re more of a casual, comforting thing than a constant need. He'd love the feeling of you hugging him, nestling and melting into him, your arm barely wrapping around him.

His bear hugs are warm, firm, and reassuring like he’s grounding you in the moment. He’ll give you a tight squeeze when he sees you after being apart or after a long day, pulling you close with a smile. If you’re having a rough time, his hugs linger a little longer, with a few kisses into your hair, making sure you feel safe. He’s not one to initiate a hug every five minutes, but when he does, it’s like being wrapped in warmth and love.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Ben wouldn't rush to say “I love you,” but once he’s sure of his feelings, he’s not afraid to express them. It’ll likely come out naturally during a quiet, intimate moment, maybe during pillow talk when you’re both just lying in bed, talking about everything and nothing with a few jokes that make you both tear up laughing, clutching your sides and sweet sentiments. “You know I love you, baby, right?” he’d say softly, his eyes soft and serious.

After that, he’d say it often, but always when it feels genuine, never just out of habit, but because he truly means it every time. He wouldn't be able to end a phone call or text you goodnight without saying it, and if you didn't say it, he's ringing you back until he hears it from you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ben is secure in himself and in your relationship, so jealousy isn’t a huge issue for him, he’s confident in what you share, but he’s definitely not above feeling a little territorial from time to time. Especially if someone’s getting too friendly with you. In those moments, you’ll feel his presence shift subtly, he’s stepping in closer, maybe pulling you by your waist or slipping his hand around your lower back, fingers pressing a bit more firmly than usual. A kiss on your cheek, sending a clear message without making a fuss.

He’s not one to let jealousy turn into drama, though. He’ll tease you about it later, flashing that grin of his, saying something like, "You just have that effect on people, don’t you?" with a playful wink, but there’s a glimmer in his eyes that tells you he’s serious about keeping what’s his. He’s protective of what’s his, especially when it comes to you. He likes knowing that people can see how much he cares about you and that you belong together. And when the world sees it, he feels even more secure in the bond you two share.

If it ever really bothered him, he wouldn’t bottle it up. Instead, he’d bring it up later in private, maybe when you're together after a long day. “Hey, just so you know, it got to me a little earlier. I know you didn’t do anything, but…” His voice would trail off, a little sheepish, but he’d look you in the eye, wanting to clear the air. You'd reassure him with words, kisses and cuddles.

He'd feel so good when you are talking about him or introducing him by calling him "my man" or "my boyfriend"; "my" anything really. It shows he's yours, just as much as you’re his. It’s a quiet reassurance for him, something that makes his chest swell a little every time. You’d probably notice that his mood lightens immediately, his arms pulling you in closer, maybe pressing a kiss to your forehead, mumbling something like, "Yeah, that’s right. I’m your man" with his big, gummy smile. He’d feel all the tension at ease, knowing that in your eyes, he’s your person, your only person, and that’s more than enough to keep him grounded.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He wouldn't often be the one to pepper you with kisses all the time, but after a great win or a long time without seeing you or sometimes, just because, he would kiss you all over.

Ben’s kisses are playful and sweet, starting as quick pecks that sometimes turn into more passionate moments when the mood is right and when you're both alone. He loves kissing your forehead or the top of your head, there’s something incredibly tender about it that feels both protective and loving. It’s his way of saying, “I’ve got you” without using words.

He’s also big on a quick peck of your cheek or lips when you’re least expecting it, just to get a smile out of you. He finds joy in kissing your nose, too, making it a little game where he tries to make you laugh, and you both end up giggling.

As for being kissed, he loves it when you surprise him with soft kisses on his jawline or neck. You’ll notice him pause, eyes closed, savouring the moment.

There’s a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he revels in the affection, a warmth spreading through him that speaks volumes about how cherished he feels. These little gestures mean the world to him; they’re reminders that he’s loved and adored.

He also enjoys being kissed in unexpected places. Like the small of his back when he’s cooking or when you lean in to whisper something silly in his ear and kiss his earlobe. Or perhaps, when you kiss his chest, telling him it's you "kissing his sweet and kind heart". It catches him off guard and fills him with joy, making him melt and pull you in for a tighter embrace. He’s all about those intimate, tender moments, especially when he can feel your love radiating through each kiss and sending shivers through him. Each one leaves a mark on his heart, creating a tapestry of affection that strengthens his pure adoration for you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

No secret that he's great with kids! They prob gravitate to his silly personality and easy-to-climb frame, he's like a walking-talking jungle gym. It makes your heart swell seeing him sign tennis balls and photos for children at tournaments or when he's spending time with family, getting tackled and jumped by all the kids.

He’d be the type to show them how to ride a bike, to juggle or teach them some fun tennis tricks, maybe a little impromptu match in the backyard. Ben would be attentive and patient, showing them the ropes with a kind heart. I imagine with older kids, he'd approach them in the same way Bryan had with him; supportive and kind, never too pushing.

When Ben sees the joy in their eyes, it makes his day, and you can’t help but adore him even more watching him with kids, knowing he’d be an amazing dad someday.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Ben are a beautiful blend of coziness when you get to spend them together. He’s not much of a morning person, but he loves waking up next to you. He's the type to set his alarm a bit earlier than necessary to spend his first few moments with you. His first instinct is to pull you closer, kiss your hair a few times, bury his face in your neck and inhale that comforting scent that makes the morning feel a bit brighter. He’d probably mumble something sweet, still half-asleep, cautious not to wake you up.

He’d take time to sit with you in the mornings during breakfast, talking about the day ahead or sharing funny stories from the previous day. He's just so happy to spend his first moments talking to the love of his life, he'd probably have a stupid smile on his face, never breaking eye contact.

If he’s on tour or has a busy schedule, he’ll make sure to carve out that little slice of the morning with you, maybe slipping a note in your bag or sending you a video in your timezone to wish you a good morning to remind you of how much he loves you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Ben are all about winding down and enjoying each other’s company after a long day. He’d love to create a cozy atmosphere, dimming the lights, maybe lighting some candles or making popcorn for movie nights. You’d often find him on the couch with you, his arm draped around your shoulders as you watch a few episodes of your favourite shows, maybe even just watching TikToks together. He might tease you about your choices or how weird your FYP is, but he loves seeing your eyes light up as you share your favourites or laugh loud with your head thrown back.

On nights when he’s feeling particularly affectionate, he’d turn it into a stargazing adventure. If the weather’s nice, he’d grab a blanket, leading you outside to lay beneath the stars, pointing out constellations, and sharing silly stories about life on tour. He’d wrap you in his arms, resting his chin on your head, making you feel safe and cherished as you enjoy the tranquillity of the night.

If you’ve had a tough day, he’d be all about pampering you, running you a warm bath or preparing your favourite snacks, knowing that sometimes the little gestures mean the most. And when it’s time to sleep, he’d pull you close, his body instinctively finding yours as you drift off, feeling that warm sense of security and safety wrapped up in his embrace.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Ben takes his time when it comes to opening up, but he’s genuine about it. He's never faking his emotions or what's going on in his mind but some things would be kept away until he's ready and trusts you. I think he’s the kind of guy who enjoys those late-night conversations when the world feels quiet and safe, and that’s when you’d get to know the real him, the hopes he has, his fears, and what really drives him.

He’d probably start with lighter topics, like his favourite childhood memories or funny stories from the road, allowing you to ease into the more profound conversations naturally. As he sees your genuine interest in him, he’ll begin to reveal more, like his dreams for the future or moments that shaped him into who he is today. He’d appreciate your patience and understanding, wanting to feel secure in the connection before diving deeper into the heavier stuff. He'd want you to feel the same, ease him into the person you are today, with your fears, faults and all. Knowing you trusted him to share some of your troubles and past would make him feel incredibly warm, feeling your relationship grow tighter and closer. He'd never want you to go through anything like that when you're with him or feel those emotions again, so he'd be very conscious and make it a known effort.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Ben is generally laid-back and has a chill demeanour, especially since tennis made him that way to keep his cool, making it hard to rattle him. He’s the type to take a deep breath and laugh off minor annoyances, preferring to focus on the positives rather than letting small things get under his skin. He’d rather tease himself than get upset, often finding humour in the chaos, which makes him an excellent partner during stressful times.

However, if something really bothers him, he won’t shy away from addressing it. He believes in open communication and would prefer to have a calm conversation about what’s troubling him rather than letting it simmer inside. You’d find him sitting down with you, holding your hands and discussing feelings with sincerity. His patience extends to those he cares about, he understands that everyone has their off days and is more than willing to listen, offering support instead of anger.

Ben’s the type to remind you that it’s okay to feel frustrated or upset, and he’ll be there to help you work through it, showing that his patience isn’t just for himself but for you as well. He'd even take you to a rage room or find other outlets if you needed support.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I think Ben would have notes in his phone about you. If you mentioned something while he's on tour whether it's on call or text, it'd go straight into his notes. If you're giving him a shopping list while he's abroad (like, K-beauty products or Japanese stationary), you'd need to send photos and the full brand name and all, otherwise, the poor guy gets stressed and panic buys stuff.

If you asked him to run and get micellar water, he definitely bought all sorts of sparkling and still water in a panic. Or if you offhandedly mentioned that your period is coming up, he bought wayyyyy too many sanitary products because "how am I supposed to know what size you are?" - that's when you knew you had your work cut out for you, you have to be specific.

He would be on the plane, going through his notes, picking out what he'll be able to find, maybe books or bracelet charms alongside snacks you liked too. He'd take that role very seriously and it'd be so hard for him not to spoil the surprise and give you a haul of all the little things he bought for you; it'd get to a point that one of his bags would just be stuff for you, it was like Christmas when he came back.

You might find him surprising you with those details, like picking up your bagel and coffee order on a random day or planning a date around something you’ve casually mentioned wanting to try. It makes you feel seen and appreciated, knowing that he values your words enough to remember them. Like you might be doing errands together and then pull up to a place you wanted to try or craved and he'd shrug it off and be like "Oh, what? I just thought you'd want to try their new menu, just remembered you talking about it a few nights ago", but internally, he'd be giggling, fist bumping himself at surprising you again.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Ben’s favourite moment in your relationship is probably one that encapsulates all the love and joy you share together, something that solidifies you as a partner and his best friend. Maybe it was a spontaneous trip you both took, laughing the entire way, sharing silly snacks, and belting out songs in the car. Maybe the tyre was flat and you were both calm and making jokes about it, messing about while waiting for roadside assistance. Maybe it was playing doubles and having no strategy, just vibes and running all over the place (ahem, Arthur Fils and Ben, ahem). But whatever came your way, you both wouldn't find anger or frustration, you'd balance each other out and make a few jokes, and share a few kisses - you both knew everything was going to be alright.

He cherishes the quiet moments too, like those nights spent cuddled up, sharing your dreams and fears, realising how much you both mean to each other. It’s in those intimate exchanges that he finds solace and happiness, making every moment spent together feel significant.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

I think Ben’s protectiveness is rooted in genuine care and affection. He’s not overbearing or controlling, but he’s very aware of your comfort and safety, especially when you're together in public and with his fame. If you're walking through a crowd, his hand is always on your lower back, guiding you carefully. If someone’s acting a little too bold, he’ll step in closer, stand a bit taller, and make it crystal clear that you’re with him, and he’s looking out for you. He's got you covered and doesn't need to do too much to make himself known as your partner.

At the same time, Ben loves it when you show care for him too. Maybe it’s the little things, like checking in after a rough match or reminding him to rest after training, gently massaging him after training, caring about if he ate - all the small things to check-in. He’d appreciate it when you link your arm with his in casual moments or hold his hand in public when you look up at him with your sweet eyes and smile or gently plant a kiss. It’s that unspoken connection that makes him feel secure, knowing you’ve got his back as much as he has yours.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

I believe Ben’s the type who goes all-in. He might not always be extravagant, but everything he does is meaningful and well-thought-out, especially after it's been some time away.

For dates, whether it’s something simple like grabbing a pizza or something more special like a surprise picnic, he’ll plan it with you in mind, always tailoring things to your tastes. If it’s a special anniversary, expect him to remember all the little details, maybe even recreating your first date or trying to recreate a scene from a show or movie that you loved. He’s definitely the type to bring flowers, book reservations, and remember your favourite dessert or place to go.

He’s also great with gifts. He pays attention to the small things you mention, whether it’s that cozy sweater you’ve been eyeing or a quirky little item that made you smile. Sometimes, it is just something as small as having a sweet that you like in his pocket like it's "magic" (he forgot he put it there).

Everyday tasks don’t slip his mind; he’ll pitch in with chores, leave a small note, pack your bag for you or just help out in ways that show how much he cares.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

I think Ben's biggest "ugly" trait is probably his occasional messiness, especially after practice or a match. He might leave his bag somewhere leave sweaty clothes lying around or forget to put his sneakers back where they belong. If he’s been travelling a lot, expect his suitcase to explode all over the bedroom before he finally unpacks, and even that would take you pleading with him to get working on that, which he will do with a pout.

He’s prob also guilty of being a bit too focused on his phone at times, like sitting there mouth agape and a protein bar or something in his hand that he forgot he was eating while he's scrolling through social media or watching match highlights when you just want his attention.

But the great thing about Ben is that if you call him out on it, he’ll listen and make an effort to fix it. He’s not one to get defensive about it; he knows his weaknesses and is willing to work on them.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Ben is definitely aware of how he looks (he knows he's fine as fuck), but he’s not vain in an excessive way. He likes to look good and feel confident, especially in front of a camera or at an event, but he’s not obsessed. He’s got his routines, probably a favourite cologne, a specific hair product he swears by to make his curls look good, but it’s all pretty chill. He’ll make sure his outfit’s on point and his shoes are clean, but he’s not going to spend hours in front of the mirror. He just cares to look good with and for you, nothing else.

He’s comfortable in his own skin and loves it when you appreciate his style too, but at the end of the day, he’s more focused on feeling good than being perfectly groomed. If he knows you love the way he looks in a certain outfit, he’ll definitely wear it more often just to see that smile on your face.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Ben is a confident, self-assured guy, but when it comes to you, you’ve become such a key part of his life that he’d definitely feel something missing if you weren’t there. You ground him in a way no one else can, bringing out his softer, more relaxed side and keeping him grounded. After a long tour or stressful match, you're the one he turns to for comfort and calm. He loves having you to share his successes and challenges with, and it’s clear he sees you as his other half.

When you’re away from each other, he’d miss all the little things, your laugh, the way you poke fun at him, the way you cuddle into his side, the way you play with his hair and shower him with words of affirmation. Ben’s a big believer in partnership, and having you around makes him feel like he’s not just navigating life alone but with someone who’s always on his side. So yeah, without you, he’d feel incomplete, like something’s missing from his daily rhythm but it wouldn't be a crippling thing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

So, Ben talked about how he had never been abroad before tennis, I like to think of him being an appreciative guy so I imagine him collecting memorabilia from his tours. Things like lanyards, tickets, wristbands, photos, and even quirky items he finds in hotels from different countries. He probably has a little keepsake box that he fills up with mementoes from the places he’s been, and he loves sharing these memories with you or telling you stories about those things.

When you’re together, he’ll pull out random souvenirs and tell you the stories behind them, maybe even jokingly offering to “trade” you one of his old match wristbands for one of your trinkets. If you offered to make him a scrapbook and document his silly stories, he'd probably hold that so, so close to his heart, maybe even well up a bit knowing you were gentle and careful in documenting it all.

He loves bringing something from you with him on his travels, whether it's your silly pink headband that you use when you're doing your skincare or a hair tie around his wrist. Whenever he gets the chance, he'll send you silly photos and texts wearing or holding those items, telling you that he misses you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Ben is generally easygoing, but there are a few things that would rub him the wrong way. He doesn’t like unnecessary drama negativity or toxicity, he’s all about keeping things light and fun, so constant complaining or bad vibes would get under his skin. He also wouldn’t appreciate dishonesty or being led on with games. He values trust and transparency in a relationship especially if he's serious, and if he felt like someone was being shady or playing with his emotions, he’d check out pretty quickly. He doesn't have the time to be doing all that while on tour.

I think he also wouldn’t be into someone who’s overly controlling or doesn’t give him his space. Ben enjoys his independence and time with friends, so he’d need a partner who respects that balance and doesn’t try to keep him on too tight a leash.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Deadass prob sleeps like a rock. Ben is the type of guy who falls asleep fast and stays asleep, once he’s out, he’s out. He loves curling up next to you in bed, and he’ll probably drape an arm over you in his sleep, unconsciously pulling you closer. He’s a deep sleeper, and if he’s had a tough day of training or a long match, he might snore lightly, maybe even sleeptalks a bit.

He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair while he’s falling asleep and murmur words of affirmation and love. It relaxes him instantly, and he’ll murmur little thank-yous, kiss your skin softly or give sighs of contentment until he drifts off completely. If he wakes up in the middle of the night, he’ll check on you, making sure you’re comfortable and pulling the blanket over you if it’s slipped off, making sure you're nice and tucked in. Ben might also wake up early, but he’ll stay in bed a little longer, just lying there next to you, content in the quiet moments of the morning.

#benshelton #ben shelton #ben shelton x reader #ben shelton headcanon #ben shelton alphabet

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medicinemane · 1 year ago

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Nice! That's honestly really cool

I know I'm already a bit of a "have you considered playing a different game" kind of guy (and I actually kinda like D&D! It just sucks that a lot of people who play it seem to hate what the game actually is!) but I'm going to evolve and become even more that guy but always recommend Rolemaster specifically.

#haven't played MERP since I was little; but it was always fun #unrelated to anything else other than the concept of homebrewing #really want to flesh out a homebrew for the d6 based Star Wars ttrpg that I have the old book for sitting in a drawer nearby #really feel like the d6 system would be nice for the power scaling that can happen in the setting I'm using it for #cause then... well... first off one problem is that it wasn't really meant to go as high as I'm gonna take it; but too bad for it #anyway; then you can have people winding up with like 20d6 in a skill; and you make life easy cause they can just roll 2d6 #against similar skilled people... or just enjoy rolling way too many dice at once #no... the real problem is figuring out how to do magic or super powers or stuff like that #(cause it's a broad setting)#since I only really have the way they did the Force to go off of and... well that's the main hang up anyway #mostly in terms of cost really #as in like... I know roughly how much attributes should cost; and I mostly know how much skills should cost #but like... you can't really have lockpicking and fire breath cost the same amount to put dice in to... you know?#one's just... a tiny bit more powerful #that's the part that really requires thought on all this #of course... the whole thing is just a facade; what I'm really running is the old Amber diceless roleplaying system #but I'm swapping out the points system it had for dice; pretty much just to help me with figuring out what to do #but the fact of the matter is that the dice are just for show and just a prop; just something fun for players to roll #cause like... someone makes a good plan but rolls poorly; I'm not just gonna be like 'well; you failed'#just gonna use it as a prompt for what happens next #so it really is just the diceless system; it's just the flat numbers lack inspiration for me that dice can fill in the blanks with #anyway... don't know why I felt compelled to write all that stuff... think I just got thinking and kind of typed as I did it #...well... all that aside; the Amber diceless books have good advice in my opinion; just for running stuff in general #stuff like giving minor rewards to players who do stuff like draw art or keep a diary or record and transcribe a session #like... nothing major; just a few points here or there or... something that doesn't unbalance things #but that rewards them for doing stuff that engages and enriches the game #well anyway... that's a whole lot of words to say not a lot

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americas-ass-writing · 1 year ago

Text

Written in the stars

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life. Or does it lead you where you're meant to be?

Warnings: none? Stan Lee cameo maybe, me sucking at writing dialogue

A/N: This was written for @lunarbuck Soulmate Au Writing Challenge! I had the prompt "You and your soulmate share matching tattoos." I hope you enjoy it!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Gif by me

The sound of rain against your window is the first thing you register as you wake up. The sounds of your street in New York slowly adding themselves in. You let out a yawn and stretch. These were the best days. Waking up to the rain serenading you on your day off. You have nowhere to be, no plans, just a day for yourself. So you lay in bed a bit longer, just listening to the sounds.

Once you get up, you start your day. A nice warm shower, comfy clothes and breakfast with your favourite tea. Your phone dings with the daily reminder of your best friend to leave your apartment today so you'd have a chance finding your soulmate. You roll your eyes. She found hers in high school - lucky bitch. The matching tattoo of a weird shaped heart, that to you looked more like a bean, on her ankle sealed her fait to the high school jock. You were scared for her at first but he turned out to be the best partner she could ever have wished for. You on the other hand weren't so lucky. The little star constellation on your shoulder blade hasn't met it's match yet and you weren't sure if it ever would. With a sigh you put down your mug and text her back, promising you'd leave the house if the rain stopped.

The internet was a wonderful, helpful thing until it wasn't. Until one misstep, one accident gets spread around and ruins your life.

Steve was always good at hiding his soulmate mark. Back in the 40s when he was sickly he partially did it because dressing warm enough prevented him from getting sick and to protect whatever dame had the matching mark on her shoulder from having him as soulmate. As soon as he became Captain America he solely did it so no one would lead him on by pretending to be his soulmate. He was glad his soulmark was on his shoulder blade, easy to hide under the shirts he wore. Even though he was hiding it he couldn't help the disappointment that in all his years on this planet he hasn't even had a slightest tickle of the feeling of his soulmate being close to him.

But then his years of hiding were ruined by a very public mission. He was doing his best to lead his team and make sure they were all safe. He was in his element until a Hydra agent attacked him with a knife. This happened way too often these days and every time Howard Stark's voice mocks him in his mind. "Hydra won't attack you with pocket knives." Yeah right.

Steve was quick to react and instead of stabbing him in his shoulder all the attacker did was rip open his suit. This shouldn't happen this easily, maybe it wasn't a common pocket knife and Howard was right after all. Steve knocked him to the floor and made sure the man was unconscious. He didn't even think twice about the rip in his suit before he went back to the mission. He should have... He should have took a damn second to check then he wouldn't be stuck in the Tower.

The rip exposed his soulmark. And of course some onlooker took a picture that spread like wildfire on the internet. Promptly the Tower was overrun by people claiming they're his soulmate. His morning runs through central park were turning into him being hunted down by them too.

When the first woman came he had hope. He really thought that maybe, just maybe the stupid mistake would bring him his soulmate but the feeling never came... Nothing ever snapped into place. He didn't have the feeling.

His soulmark soon graced the shoulder blades of thousands of people like some stupid fashion accessory which caused him to swear off his soulmate and accepted a life of being alone. He just hoped that this hype around his mark would soon die down.

His fists hit the punching bag in front of him hard. The bag swinging back and forth wildly as he tried to let his pent up anger out. His usual sparring partners tapped out a few days ago since he got too cruel during it, not pulling his punches anymore. He understood, he didn't want to hurt them but he couldn't help himself but be disappointed. Those social interactions flew out the window too which didn't help him with feeling so alone.

"We gotta get him out of the tower... He's been cooped up for two weeks now." Natasha mumured to the fellow assassin next to her as they both watched their friend. "Sam and me tried... Either we get overrun immediately or he refuses to leave the tower." Bucky answered, his arms crossed. He felt for his friend, he deserves to find his soulmate and live happily ever after with them. "Maybe we can fly him out to Clint's farm?" He added only to be met with a snort of the redhead next to him. "Yeah he'd love that. Clint would make him take care of the chickens. Imagine all the pictures of him and Cap Jr." She smirked at the image of Steve holding up his chicken counterpart in several pictures.

Just as Bucky was about to answer their little conversation got interrupted by the bag hitting the floor and Steve marching or rather stomping off to get a new one.

"I have a plan to buy you guys some time" the redhead said after a moment of silence and beckoned her friend to follow her.

Picking at his cap and the borrowed clothes, Steve sends Nat a sceptical look. "This isn't going to work..." He sighs and sits down. His face falls into the palms of his hands. Soon enough there are soft strokes on his back. "Yes it will work. You just gotta be positive for once, Rogers" she says with an encouraging smile. "Sam and Bucky are currently distracting the masses, making them fill out forms so you can find your soulmate. All you gotta do is take the back exit and vanish into the crowds. It's a simple mission." Nat ever the optimist. There was so many things that could go wrong with this plan. Steve lifts a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"Look it's either this or Bucky's plan that involves a horrible granny dress and a wig. So choose your poison, Cap" she smirks at his furrowed eyebrows and claps on his shoulder. "That's what I thought. Let's get you out of here." With a smile she beckons him to follow her. They walk through the hallways and take the stairs down to the lobby. Instead of taking the usual door Natasha leads him around the corner and through some storage rooms before they stop in front of a door.

"Alright, sunglasses on. I texted you the code to get back into this door but I expect you to not use it before lunchtime." Like a mother scolding her child she points a finger at him. "The door leads to the back alley. The security guard has been informed that you'd take this way so no need to worry. Just make a swift exit from the alley into the crowds. Keep your head down, cap and sunglasses on, ok?" Steve nods at that and hugs her. "Thank you" he whispers and before she can answer he slips out of the door.

He nods to Stan the security guard, a nice old man that he often talked about art with, and slips out of the alley into the masses. To his surprise everyone's minding their own business and soon he's a block away from the tower. His shoulders relax and he lets out a breath. The rain probably helped him stay unrecognised.

Much to your dismay the rain stops after a few hours and you have to keep your promise. You sigh and get dressed to leave your apartment. Maybe a coffee in the park wouldn't be so bad. The park near your apartment always was empty on rainy days, except for a few people walking their dogs. So you could still enjoy your day without too many people around you. Once you're all dressed you grab your bag and an umbrella, just to be safe, before you leave. Your feet carry you to the little cafe at the end of your street. You weren't surprised with how busy it was. People would come here to escape the cloudy skies, to study, to meet others or to simply just get coffee. You weren't bothered by the masses though since it was your plan all along to get your order to go and sit in the park.

With your drink and snack in hand you enter the park a little while later. It wasn't big but still beautiful. You make your way to your favorite spot, a little bridge over the lake that housed two benches. It was a quiet and beautiful spot and you're were sure no one would hog the benches today. Well you were wrong. As you approach you see one of the benches taken by a tall stranger with a sketchpad. He seemed relaxed as his hand moved the pencil over the paper. His cap and hunched over form hid his face from your view but you didn't mind. Something inside you told you he was safe and even pulled you a bit closer to him. It's a weird feeling but you chalk it off to the two of you just doing the same thing - trying to enjoy the silence in the park.

You sit down on the bench across from him and take in the nature. You don't even notice his surprised face when he looks up and sees someone across from him. Or when he absent mindly scratches his shoulder. Or when his lips pull into a small smile at the added person in his sketch. You sit in silence for a while, trying to ignore your itchy shoulder, occasionally stealing a glance of the handsome stranger until he stands up and approaches you. Your heart beats faster as you look up at him. Why was he approaching you? Was he not the nice strange...

"Here..." He holds out a piece of paper to you with a soft smile on his face. Fuck even his voice was handsome. You hesitate for a second before you softly take it from him, which just makes his smile grow wider. Your eyes land on his sketch of the park... the lake, the trees, the flowers and you... You on the bench with your drink in hand, smiling as you take in the nature. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Your surprised eyes find his and you're met by a bashful smile. "I uh... It's a thank you..." He scratches his neck, his face blushing as he tries to avoid your eyes. "A thank you?" You ask confused, the small itch in your shoulder growing. You look up at him. Why would he thank you for sitting across from him?

"Yeah... The last week's... Have been crazy and you're the first person who treats me... normal?" He fumbles with his hands as your confusion just grows, brows knitted together. "My soulmark was released to the public after a mission and so many people got it as a tattoo and they hunted me down on my jogs and they waited for me everywhere and I was stuck in the tower and my friends wouldn't even spar with me and I felt so alone and when I was finally able to sneak out and spend some time outside you didn't even lift an eyebrow at Captain America sitting across from you so thank you" he rambles and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You didn't even recognize him. Not in casual clothes that seem a bit too big for him. He nervously fumbles with his hands again at your silence. "I..." "See I even signed it. If you don't want to keep it you can sell it" as he tries to point out his signature he grazes your hand with his fingers and both of you wince. The blinding pain in your shoulder was gone within a second but it was replaced with warmth. As your eyes meet his you realize it wasn't just you who feels it. His hand is still on his shoulder as he looks at you with wide eyes and his beautiful lips apart.

"Please tell me you felt that too..." He whispers, his voice almost breaking. You nod as answer and continue to stare at him. He lets his hand fall and gets on his knees in front of you, his eyes stare in yours so desperate you want to wrap him up in a hug and blanket and protect him from the world.

"I didn't even recognize you" is all you bring out and he laughs. A beautiful melodic laugh as his hands softly grab your free one. Thousands of little butterflies spread in your body, the tingly sensation wandering through you until it reaches your soulmark. "I'm pretty sure you have a little constellation of stars on your shoulder" the blonde still kneeling in front of you says with a smile that's brighter than the sun. You chuckle and bite your lower lip. "What makes you think so?" You tease. He licks his lips and squeezes your hand softly. "Because I have the same" he whispers as if it's a secret for just the two of you and maybe just maybe it would be if he would have used his brain a few weeks back.

You stare at each other for a while longer till the rain starts again. "Shoot! I have a cap you can wear uh..." The Adonis in front of you gets up and hurries over to his bench to get his things. You chuckle as he comes back and pull out your umbrella. "We can just share this and sit for a while longer" you suggest as you open it. He stops for a second but then smiles easily as he plops down next to you and offers to hold it.

You spend the afternoon talking, smiling and laughing. The conversation flowed easy and Steve even gave you a peek at his mark which was to no one's surprise the one you have too. Thus followed a lot of star related jokes from Steve. You laughed at every adorable pun and that seemed to spur him on even more. His eyes shining brighter with every laugh or giggle you gifted him, almost like the star littered night sky was trapped in them.

When the sun started to set Steve walked you home. He insisted that he did so because he wanted to make sure you're safe. You agreed, that was obviously the reason. Not the two of you wanting to spend more time together. And him holding your hand obviously was for keeping you safe too. And the kiss that you pressed on his lips when you arrived was definitely just a thank you. And the promise to see each other again after exchanging numbers was just part of your extensive security plan.

Steve slips into the tower through the door in the alleyway. He smiles at Stan before he takes the stairs, two steps at a time. He has never felt this happy and carefree before. He found his soulmate and you were the most beautiful and kind and amazing human being he knows. As he enters the common area he finds Bucky and Sam in front of a stack of paper and Natasha enjoying their aggregation.

"What's going on here?" Steve asks, his left eyebrow lifted. He grabs some water from the fridge and walks over to his friends. "It's all the soulmate applications that were filled out. We're going through them to see if maybe one of them is actually your soulmate." Sam explains and holds up one of the filled out forms. Steve smile widens. "But most of them are so obnoxious. Like this one" Bucky holds up another form. "I'm meant to be yours even if I had to get the soulmark tattooed." He reads, his frown deepening. Steve just laughs and takes the stack in front of his friends. He throws the stack in the recycling bin, much to the outrage of Bucky and Sam. He takes a sip from his water before the smile finds his lips again. "Well... Thank you for doing all this work but it was unnecessary. I found her and she's pretty amazing." His smile widens at the shocked faces of his friends.

"Excuse me, what?! You walk in here like nothing happened and then out of nowhere drop that bomb on us?!" Sam cries out. Steve chuckles which just seems to anger his friends even more. "Oh I'll hand your ass to you in tomorrow's sparring session!" Bucky promises as Steve skillfully avoids him. Finally Natasha just gets up and hugs him. "I'm happy for you. You deserve it, Cap." She says sincerely. "I hope you know that I'm doing a background check on her." Steve chuckles but hugs her back. "And that you're gonna break poor Clint's heart by not visiting him on his farm." Steve's laugh turns into a snort. "You mean I'm making him really happy because he now has an excuse to buy a new chicken? Can't have Cap Jr. without his soulmate. And I'm pretty sure she'll love the chicken once I take her for a visit." Natasha smiles fondly before she punches his shoulder slightly and leaves him to Sam and Bucky's complaining and investigations.

#captain america #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #mcu #mcu x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #soulmate au

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