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#mms skeptically
pumpkinsouppe · 1 year
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Hhhh I love tloz games where it shows that Link’s blind loyalty and trust can be way more harmful than good and it causes Link to forge his own path. That the goddesses never have his best intentions in mind so he learns to trust in himself
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lem-argentum · 4 months
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i can’t believe ix remake is real. they are going to put my wife in high quality graphics
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meezer · 6 months
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lucifer: hi my name is lucifer, I'm the DEVIL, I'm immortal and can not be hurt, I can traumatize people by just looking at them, I have insane charisma, I make constant references to "my father" whenever anyone mentions god, I'm weirdly obsessed with punishing people, my eyes glow sometimes and I can push people like 10 meters with the slightest touch
his detective lady friend: haha yeah sure buddy
his detective lady friend, later: holy shit. he's being so elusive but I think I figured it out... this guy might be the devil
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thebearer · 3 months
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could use a push |carmen berzatto x reader|
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prompt: sometimes carmen needs persuasion to finish his tasks. sometimes you have to persuade him.
part of the carmen x social media manager au. the two other works follow me and fall into me can be found here <3
contains: smut. slight voyeurism-ish?? oral male receiving. super sweet and smutty. social media manager!reader. carmen hates doing tasks lol.
“Carmen,” Sydney turned, carrying a large tray of vegetables that needed to be prepped, expertly dodging the other chefs working on the line. Carmen gave a huff of a grunt, not bothering to look up from his own prep, too in the zone. 
“Chef,” Sydney huffed, firmer this time, catching his attention when the tray smacked on the counter next to him. “Someone’s in the office for you.” 
“Me?” Carmen blinked, brows pulling in a deep frown. “No, not f’me-” 
“-Yes, for you, Chef-” 
“-No, that’s Richie’s job. Cousin,” Carmen leaned back, shouting towards the swinging doors. 
“Carmen, will you- there’s someone in the office for you. Ok? They’re here for you, not Richie.” Sydney muttered, shaking her head in annoyance. 
Carmen paused, looking at Sydney. “What’re you doin’?” He asked. 
“What?” 
“No, what’re you doin’?” Carmen repeated, eyes narrowed at her skeptically. “No-No one should be in my office. I’m not doin’ the interviews for bussers, that’s Richie, so who’s in the office? Hm? What’s goin’ on?” 
“Nothing’s goin’ on, jeez.” Sydney rolled her eyes. “There is someone in the office for you.” 
“Yeah? Is it-it’s Fak? Is he fuckin’ with me? Gonna walk in there and what? Gonna spray some shit on me like we’re fuckin’ fourteen-” 
“-What? No.” Sydney frowned. “I don’t- Look, I was told not to tell you who’s in there because it’s a surprise, ok? It’s not bad. Just- Can you go in there? I don’t know why they asked me to do this, but I’m clearly not good at the whole surprise thing, so just do me a favor and go see for yourself.” 
Carmen huffed, wiping his hands on the clean towel next to him, craning to see his office from his spot. He looked at Sydney with a deadpan expression. “If I get sprayed with some shit, Chef.” 
Sydney rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning to pass the prep to the chef beside her. Carmen looked carefully to see if anyone around him was lurking, hiding in the shadows to watch him get ambushed so they could have a laugh. He felt like he was twelve again, Richie and Mikey always fucking with him so he’d get red faced and embarrassed just so they could laugh at him. 
Twisting the knob to the office, Carmen let the door fall open before he stepped towards it. Thankfully, there were no signs of shit falling from the ceiling, nobody hiding in the shadows. Instead, sitting in his office chair was a much more pleasant surprise- you. 
“Hey,” Carmen’s face lit up, lips curling in a greeting. “What- I didn’t know you were comin’ today.” 
“I decided to surprise you.” You smiled back. “Ambush you, really.” 
“Ambush?” Carmen snorted lightly, shutting the door behind him. “What’re you ambushin’ me for?” 
You stood, letting your arms wrap around his waist in greeting, lips brushing his before he took your mouth in his fully, kissing you sweetly just like he had this morning. “Mm,” You sighed, pulling back quicker than Carmen would have liked. 
“I came to ambush you for content.” You batted your eyes sweetly at him, feeling his shoulders fall under your touch. “Because you were supposed to let me shoot the new menu items this week and you still haven’t.”
“Baby,” Carmen huffed, pulling a hand away from the small of your back to rub over his forehead. “I-I don’t- Why do I have to be in them?” 
“Because people want to see you, Carm.” You glared at him lightly. “They see Marcus and Tina and Sydney all the time, and they want to see you too. You’re the head chef.” 
“Yeah, but-but why? It’s so fuckin’ stupid.” Carmen grumbled, huffy already, the start of a bickering fight you’d had a million times before. To say Carmen was camera shy was an understatement. 
“Why is it stupid?” You put your hands on your hips. “People want to feel connected. They want an inside look. They want to feel like they know you and they’re a part of something. That’s what gets people to come.” It was the same argument, every time. Carmen knew it, he understood it, he just… Well, he didn’t like it. 
“I’ll prompt you on everything to say,” You grabbed at him, trying to coo at him, coax him into finally letting him do your job. It was easier before the two of you were dating, before he was comfortable, when he’d suck it up in the name of professionalism. 
“All you have to do is cook me a dish, and answer my questions, and that’s it! It’ll be done in no time, and you can pick whichever one you want from the summer menu.” You ran a hand soothingly down his arm, over his toned bicep, trying not to drool at the definition. 
You could feel Carmen swaying already, turning into your touch, teetering on relenting. “Does it have to be a video?” Carmen grumbled, looking at you with pleading eyes. “‘M already behind and I-I need to do some prep, and-” 
“-Don’t lie to me.” You frown at him. “I asked Sydney before and she said you were all caught up for the day. Ahead, actually.” You lifted a brow in challenge. 
Carmen huffed, turning to look over his shoulder, cursing Sydney in his head. “I know your games, Berzatto.” You poked his tummy lightly, trying to lighten his mood with playfulness. The last thing you needed was him to be so sulky during the filming, ruining the content. “Know all your tricks, so don’t even try them.” 
Carmen let out a half huff, lips pursing in a tight line in defeat. He was so pouty, petulant, really, but you decided against teasing him about it. 
“One video?” Your hand slid up his chest, cupping his cheek gently, pulling his eyes back to yours, heart fluttering when his gaze was on you. “One video and… and I’ll make it up to you.” 
Carmen’s heart stuttered, leaping with excitement he tried to swallow down. “Yeah? Make it up to me how?” He muttered, voice dropping low to a near gravel. 
Your lips twitched, pulling at the corners of your mouth in a wicked, triumphant smile. “If you do the video for me today,” You purred, slowly pulling away, slinking towards the door. “I’ll owe you something later. Whatever you want.” Your lashes batted in suggestive playfulness.  
Carmen’s palms itched with excitement, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat. “Yeah?” He tried to keep his voice steady, keep it from cracking to show his eagerness. “W-What’d you have in mind?” 
You shrugged sweetly, clicking the lock on the door. “Oh, that’ll be up to you, Chef.” You grinned, Carmen’s posture going rigid with thrill. 
“But if you promise after this you’ll do my video,” You stepped towards him, toe to toe with each other, though neither touched the other. “I’ll give you a little taste of what I had in mind for later.”  
Carmen swallowed, nodding furiously. He’d blame the blood rushing from his brain to his cock as the reason he agreed so easily, the reason he was persuaded without much fight. You lifted your brows in an amused question. 
“Yeah? You’ll do it for me?” You tilted your head to the side gently. 
Carmen nodded, a flush creeping up his neck. “Yes, fuck, yeah. I-I’ll do it.” 
You grinned, sliding your hands down his arms, towards his torso. “Thank you, baby.” You hummed sweetly. “You want me to give you a little sneak peek of what I had in mind for tonight? A little thank you for now?” 
Carmen bobbed his head furiously, swallowing a shudder when your hands slid over his lower belly, slowly towards his waistband. “You want me to give you a little taste then?” You whispered, a purr in your tone that had Carmen throbbing, aching behind the zipper of his jeans. 
“Please,” Carmen croaked, jaw tight trying desperately to stay quiet. 
You grinned triumphantly, hand sliding and cupping over his bulge, palming him through his jeans. “Alright, since you asked so nicely.” You batted your lashes at him, holding his gaze as you sank to your knees in front of him. “I’ll give you a taste.” 
Carmen’s head tipped back in pleasure, swallowing a breathy moan that threatened to escape, eyes darting around the small space of his office. The door was locked, the blinds shut, but still he had a nagging fear that Richie or Sweeps or someone would bust through the door, catching the two of you in the act. His veins pricked with tingling excitement at the thought, heartbeat thudding in his ears when he looked down at you through his lashes, watching you pull him from his boxers, pumping his length. 
“Mm,” You moaned quietly, soft lips pressing even softer, feather-like kisses up his shaft. 
“Do-Don’t tease me, baby.” Carmen whispered, voice tight in a groan. You looked up at him innocently, eyes rounded sweetly. “Please.” Carmen added. 
“I won’t.” Your breath ghosted over his cock, leaving him shivering at the sensation. The pad of your thumb swiping over his already leaking head, spreading his release around. “I’ll make it quick. Just relax, Carm. I’ve got you.” 
Carmen slid a hand over his mouth, muffling a moan when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, tongue swirling around the head. His teeth sank into his knuckles, head tipping back towards the ceiling at the sensation. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fu-uck.” Carmen muttered, your free hand pumping his length, slowly taking his tip past your warm lips. Your eyes stayed on him the entire time, rounded and eager to please, eager to watch him be pleased. 
Carmen’s free hand moved to the top of your head, cradling it gently as you sucked him off, cupping his balls and massaging them. You’d always been so good at this. He’d told you that from the beginning, heart nearly exploding when you’d smiled sheepishly and asked him, “really?” in the sweetest voice he’d ever heard. 
From then on, Carmen had never failed to sing your praises- in anything you did, but especially when you gave him head. Now, he fought back the urge to groan loudly, to look down at you and say filthy, sweet things that would have you squirming, thighs rubbing together. Anywhere else but here, he would have, but he couldn’t risk the others hearing. 
Instead, he moved his hand to cup your cheek, hollowed and full with his length, thumb brushing over your cheek bone sweetly. “You’re makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, baby. S-So fuckin’ good.” Carmen rasped, clenching his hips to keep them from bucking when you moaned around his lengths, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. He was close, you both knew it. 
You pressed the pad of your thumb gently down the seam of his balls, hitting a sweet spot Carmen didn’t even know existed until he met you, a breathy whine of a moan catching in his throat. 
“‘M close, baby. “M- Like really fuckin’ close.” Carmen whispered, brain beginning to fog, ears starting to buzz with a dull ringing that always came with his orgasms. 
You picked up speed, head bobbing at a fast rate, up and down his length, swallowing him further and further, gagging when you took him a little too far. You always looked at him with embarrassment, a little sheepish when you’d do that, like he didn’t beg for you to do it again, like he didn’t bust every time you did. 
“Shit, shit, shit, ‘M-” Carmen’s mouth fell open dumbly, eyes blowing and glazing with ecstasy, a strangled gasp and moan filling the room as he came, spilling his load down your throat. You kept pumping him through it, milking his length onto your tongue, hot release onto your taste buds while his body shook with pleasure. 
Carmen’s shoulders heaved, rounding with exhausted pleasure as he slowly came down off his high. You waited until he looked back at you, eyes meeting yours to swallow. Carmen nearly fainted right then and there at the sight. 
Thirty minutes later, you were set up with your camera, the two of you giggly and sweet in your own corner of the kitchen, while Carmen eagerly filmed your video. Even feeding you a bite when he was finished with the dish, beaming at your praise. 
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg
Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words
Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 
“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.
James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.
“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 
Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”
“We manage,” James yawns. 
You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 
“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 
“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 
You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 
“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 
This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 
“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 
You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 
“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 
“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”
James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 
It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 
You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 
“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 
“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 
That actually sounds rather appealing. 
“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 
“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 
“Like what? Watch sports?” 
“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 
“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 
“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 
“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 
“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 
“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 
“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 
“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 
He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 
“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 
“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 
“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 
“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 
“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 
Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 
“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 
“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 
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sanguineterrain · 4 months
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Hey, I love your writing, your Jason fics are always so tender and authentic
I was wondering if you would write something where Reader is pulled aside by someone and asked whether they're in danger (since Jason is pretty big and intimidating) and later they laugh it off because they find it absurd but it gets to Jason and perhaps brings some insecurities to the surface
this is actually devastating!!! thank you for requesting 🤌
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: wrongly assumed abuse and jason being gutted at the idea, hurt/comfort, reassurance, estab relationship.
****
"Chocolate is obviously superior."
Jason sighs, flopping against the diner booth dramatically. "What a shame to be so wrong. Vanilla stays on top."
"Vanilla is boring as hell, Jay," you say, throwing your napkin at him. He catches it. Of course. "On the milkshake hierarchy, vanilla is barely a step above whatever monstrosity a peppermint bark shake is."
"Buddy, I happen to like drinking toothpaste." He points a finger at you. "And that's my God-given right."
"It's an abomination is what it is." You take a long, pointed sip of your shake. "Mm, the taste of good choices."
Jason traps both of your legs between his under the table. You gasp and try to wiggle free, but his strength is merciless.
"If it's an abomination, why is it on the menu?" he asks, grinning as you squirm.
"Well, what else are they meant to serve you freaks?"
Jason gently tugs you forward by your legs. He leans over the table. You meet him halfway.
"This freak appreciates the thought," he says and kisses you.
He tastes like vanilla shake. It's not what you'd order, but you really don't mind kissing it off of Jason's mouth. Funny how that works.
He pulls away and releases your legs, then scoots out of the booth.
"Gonna take care of business. Don't drink my incredibly irresistible shake."
"I'll certainly try," you say, looking up at him with what are undoubtedly giant heart eyes.
Jason disappears to the restrooms. You drink your shake and focus on trying to craft the straw wrapper into a snake.
You're close to shaping it when a woman comes up to your table. You've never seen her in your life.
"Uh, hi," you say. "Can I help you?"
She glances around the diner before leaning down.
"Hey. Look, if you're... in need of someplace safe, there's a great shelter downtown."
Your brows rise. "I'm sorry?"
"I was in your shoes once too," she says, eyes wide. "You don't have to rely on a guy to get you on your feet. Especially someone like him."
You shake your head slowly. "I... what? I don't understand. The man I'm with, he's my boyfriend."
She looks skeptical. You turn to face her fully, because now you're properly bewildered.
"Uh, I appreciate that you're looking out for people, and I know stuff you're referring to is everywhere in Gotham. But I promise I'm okay."
"I know physical intimidation is scary—"
"Whoa." You hold up a hand. "Just because he's a big guy doesn't mean he's throwing me around. He's the gentlest man you'll ever meet. I love him and he loves me. No one is in danger."
The woman's mouth pinches. You don't even have it in you to be upset. You've never once felt afraid of Jason. But you forget how he looks to others, how he's twice or triple most people's size and covered in scars.
"Here's the number to the shelter," she says, slipping the paper under the salt shaker. "In case you change your mind."
She hurries out the door before you can respond. You stare at the card, then shrug. You suppose, if anything, you're happy there are still good Samaritans in Gotham.
Presently, Jason returns. He purposely makes his footsteps heard because of the countless times you've lectured him about scaring the shit out of you due to his habit of going stealth mode without realizing.
"Hello, dearest," he says. "I've returned from war."
"My hero. Did you wash your hands in battle?"
Jason slides into the booth and sticks his hand in your face. "Smell 'em and rejoice, baby."
You take his hand and give it a deep sniff. It indeed smells like soap. Not that you ever doubted your boyfriend's handwashing capabilities.
"Smells like... wrong opinions about milkshakes," you say, then kiss his palm.
He rolls his eyes. "I can see my absence has taught you nothing. Unfortunate."
"I'm stubborn. I'm sure you of all people can understand that," you say, smiling.
"Mm. Y'lucky you're cute."
Your food arrives, the waitress cheerily informing you that she hopes you enjoy your meal.
"I think she's the happiest person in Gotham," Jason says, shaking the ketchup bottle.
You take a fry from his plate. "Probably a Metropolis native."
"Y'know my fries are the exact same as yours, right?"
"Nope," you say. "Yours have special boyfriend cooties on them. Adds flavor."
"You're gross," Jason says, quite lovingly.
You make a heart with your hands. He returns it, then takes a bite of his burger.
You don't even register it when Jason grabs the salt shaker. You're zeroed in on your lunch and don't look up until he speaks.
"What's this?"
Jason's holding the shelter hotline card.
"Oh! Some lady came over and gave that to me."
"Gave it to you?"
You should clock Jason's tone and the way he's stopped eating completely. But the experience was so odd that you can't fathom Jason thinking it as anything but a mistake.
"Yeah. For some reason, she thought I was here drinking a milkshake with you against my will. Probably 'cause it's Gotham, and you're my BBB: big beefcake boyfriend. Little does she know, I'm the heavyweight boxing champion of Park Row."
You swirl your fries in Jason's ketchup. He doesn't even blink. Usually, he'd give you a raised eyebrow and pretend he's cross.
Jason's still staring at the card. You catch his legs with yours. He doesn't look up.
"Jay?" you ask, smile fading. You drop your legs. "Hey. Y'good?"
"Hm? Oh. Sorry, baby." He puts the card aside and smiles at you, quick and strained.
"Everything okay?" you ask.
"Yeah. Uh, fine."
"Jason." You lean over and grab his hand. "What's wrong?"
He swallows. You wait, the noise of the diner fading. All that matters is whatever's causing his absolutely heartbreaking expression.
"How could she think I'm hurting you?" Jason whispers, finally looking at you. "How could—I would never hurt you."
"Oh, Jay. Honey, that's why I hardly entertained her. It was so silly to think about. I was so puzzled at first that I couldn't even decipher what she meant."
"But what if... y'know, maybe she sensed something about me. Sensed violence. I get it. I'd–I'd be scared of me if I were a regular person."
"Jason, sweetie, no. No, no, no. I think that woman experienced some hard things in her life, and that caused her to see something that wasn't there. She had good intentions, but she was absolutely wrong. I know you have a past, but I've never felt unsafe with you. Never. I could never be afraid of you."
Jason gnaws on the inside of his cheek. You get up and slide in next to him, crowding him against the wall. You curl against his arm.
"You love me so well, I forget that most people see a monster when I walk down the street," he says.
You squeeze your eyes closed. Pins in your heart.
"You're not a monster, Jay. You're good. I know it. Your family knows it. You're a protector."
He takes a deep breath. "If–if you ever felt afraid of me, ever, and you wanted me to stay away, then you tell me so, and I'd leave you alone. No questions asked."
"Jason," you whisper. You wrap your arm around his neck and pull him close. The vinyl squeaks as you shift. "Jay, I love you. I don't want you to leave me alone."
"But if—"
"No. Please listen to me. I know you'd never hurt or frighten me. Sometimes, people are wrong. She was wrong about you. She was kind but wrong."
You sit like that for a bit, feeling each other breathe. Jason's hand grazes yours. You grab it, lacing your fingers together.
"I love you too," he says quietly. "Never felt anything but love for you."
You smile and steal another fry off his plate. He snorts.
"I know." You lean against his shoulder. "Never doubted it."
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trendywaifus · 1 month
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“ oh pup come on, just one kiss and a hug? “
“ feixiao—no, you’re sweaty and you just came back from lifting weights. “
you sighed, backing away from her open arms with a skeptical look on your face. feixiao’s ears nearly flatten and she cutely pouts. “ i’m not that sweaty. it was only an hour session. you’re making it seem like i ran 4 whole miles and came back sweating buckets. “ your brows curl upwards as you eye the beads of sweat rolling down her toned deltoids and biceps, glistening her creamy skin. you cross your arms over your chest, looking back up at her hopeful cerulean eyes. she offers you a crooked smile.
“ yeah, no. go take a shower and i’ll gladly give you all the kisses and hugs you want. “
shaking her head, she chuckles before taking a slow step towards you with a mischievous glint swimming in her shimmering eyes.
“ no can do, i want them now. i won’t take no for an answer. i tried to ask nicely but it seems like i’d just have to take what i want now. “
before you can even react, her sturdy arms are already wrapped around you, caging you in. “ ewww f-fei, st-stop! “ you shouted, half laughing. she presses your body close to hers, smiling brightly at the sounds of your laughter. “ i can’t do that one~ what’s wrong with a little sweating anyways? you’re my beloved mate. you shouldn’t mind it at all, mm? “
your lover presses obnoxiously loud, wet kisses all over your face. a few littered across your brows, forehead, the bridge of your nose—all over. “
“ muah. muah. muah. muah. i’m starting to feel a little better now. “ she mutters jokingly between kisses.
“ feeeii. “
“ now, now. i’m almost done. i’m missing a spot, aren’t i? can you guess where, pup? “ she asks sweetly, waiting patiently for your answer with a resting smile.
“ the shower is what you’re missing. “ you answer playfully, pressing your palms into feixiao’s shoulders as an attempt to break away from her embrace. she only tightens her hold around you.
“ wrong. but wow, i’m wounded by your answer, i suppose there’s only one way to heal me. “ she grins cheekily, gaze visibly lowering as she begin to lean in.
“ aeons, you’re such a little weasel. “ you try to push her face away but she easily catches your wrist. her breath fans against your lips as she chuckles again. “ and so what if i am? i got what i needed anyways. “
with that, feixiao kisses your lips and smiles in triumph as you melt in her strong arms.
“ chu~ “
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makethemhoesmad · 1 month
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love you till my lungs give out
paige bueckers x reader
word count- 2k(lord)
notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.
thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them
also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this
the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.
“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.
“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.
“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.
the second time, i know what i did.
“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 
“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”
she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 
“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.
“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.
“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.
“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”
i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 
the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.
“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.
“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.
“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 
“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 
she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.
the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.
“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.
“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.
“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.
“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.
“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.
“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.
this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.
i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.
“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.
“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 
“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.
sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.
i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.
“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.
“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 
“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 
“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 
“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.
“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.
“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”
at some point, she wins
“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.
“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.
“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.
“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”
after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.
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ajortga · 2 months
Text
clothes
pairing: sam carpenter x fem reader
word count: 973 (drabble!)
summary: sam loves showering you with affection, even if it means lending you her whole closet.
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To say that the weather in New York City is cold is an understatement. It was sunny in the afternoon when you went to browse around your favorite book store.
You had tossed on a jacket beforehand when you got into Sam’s car so she could help drop you off before running a few errands. It was off by the time you arrived. It was pretty warm, you thought your sweater might have been enough.
So you had given it to her and told her she could drop it off at home if she went. 
But now, with a hand holding a bag full of new books that were on your booklist, mother nature had certainly had a change of heart. By the time you started checking out and asked Sam if she could pick you up, it was cloudy and freezing cold.
“Pfft, gentle breeze,” you murmur to no one in particular as you walk out. Sam had told you you should’ve brought it just in case, but what’s the point? The aesthetic of you, the “mysterious girl” just looking at books and a Gracie Abrams tote bag hung over your shoulders wouldn’t be so aesthetic with a huge jacket tied over your waist.
Now that you think about it, you could’ve just put it in your tote. Too late cause your sweater was probably at home now. You didn’t want to have Sam say, “I told you so, baby.” You were too stubborn to go back into the store where it was warm.
After a couple of minutes, the familiar black car that belonged to Sam drove by and parked at the nearest open spot. Before you could follow it, she messaged you:
sammy<3: Do NOT even think about walking. I’m not making my baby girl walk in the cold. Change of weather, huh?
You roll your eyes, sigh as you sink back into the bench you were on and start looking through your books. 
After a few minutes, you hear someone whistle at you as you turn and see your girlfriend. She put on a leather jacket as she approached. “Hey, cutie. Successful book shopping?”
You bite back a shiver while you nod. “Mm… O-oh yeah!”
She eyes you skeptically, knowing you too well.
“I told you to wear thicker clothes,” she sighs, pulling you into her chest and wrapping her arms around you. “Aye-yai-yai-yai-yai. Here,” she takes off her leather jacket and holds it out to you.
“No, put that back on, I’m not letting you freeze.”
“Bitch, you’ve been freezing. I’m fine, baby, I promise. I’m fine with the cold and walking around the shops for another thirty minutes. But you.. You have the shivers as soon as you get into a room a degree lower than the one you were in. You’re crazy to think I’d let you freeze.”
Okay, now she was just telling you you had a low temperature tolerance.
“No way! I’m not letting you die out here!” You exclaim, you didn’t want her to freeze to death.
She was still holding the jacket in front of you, her eyes showing she wanted you to open your arms so she could drape it against you. “Says the one whose nose is literally tomato red and sniffling. Baby, I swear I’m fine. Come on.”
“No, I can do it!” You exclaim, exaggeratedly stomping around up and down the walkway. Sam just sees a little tiny person dramatically walking up and down as you put out your arms to make it seem like you were some buff guy.
Another gentle, but freezing breeze blows against you, like it was on Sam’s side. It’s not long before you’re holding back shivers and shudders. Your girlfriend raises her eyebrows.
You stomp a few moments more before you come to a stop, slowly turning to Sam with a pout. “Jacket?” You ask, voice small, so innocent and completely defeated.
Sam can’t help but laugh, “I knew it.” She helps you thread your arms through her leather jacket. It was a little oversized on you, she grins because of it.
You didn’t want to tell her that you probably wouldn’t give it back to her. She’d probably come around and search your apartment while you acted clueless, like it wasn’t hiding in your closet with all the other clothes you’ve stolen from her. Sam would never tell you that she found you asleep one night wearing her hoodie and clinging onto a giant teddy bear that she won for you at the fair. 
She found it cute, until she realized the teddy bear was wearing another shirt you stole from her. She practically jumped to cuddle you, feeling bad you had to pretend that Sam was with you on nights she worked late. 
As the jacket swallows you whole, you hug it tighter against yourself. It smells sweet and leathery with a hint of cinnamon.
It smells like Sam.
It makes you jump up and down happily. A grin plasters on your face as you turn to your girlfriend, opening your arms. You feel very warm now. It’s even warmer when Sam steps closer and envelopes you in her embrace, resting her chin on your head. She runs her hands through your hair and inhales the scent of your shampoo. If anyone can make your stubbornness fade away in a blink of an eye, it was Sam.
“C’mon, cutie. I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate when we get home, that sound okay?”
You nod as she scoops you up into her arms and begins walking you back to where she parked.
To say the least, you were smothered with affection when you got home. The best part was, Sam didn’t question when her leather jacket was gone from the place it was usually hung up the next day. 
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pearlymel · 3 months
Text
Cold bed—Alhaitham
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꒰ A very short fluffy fic <3 ꒱
꒰ The use of petnames ꒱: "habibti" and "dearest".
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Alhaitham sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and numerous books scattered around him. He seemed to be in a state of deep concentration, his eyes fixated on the documents before him as his hand swiftly skimmed through the pages. It was clear that he had been working for hours, barely pausing to even take a break. As the evening wore on, the room grew darker, the glow of the desk lamp casting shadows across his tired face. You, concerned for his well-being, decided to approach him.
"You have been overworking in the past few days," you utter out in the quiet space, slowly walking from behind his back then encircling your arms around his neck while resting your chin on his shoulder which made Alhaitham lean back in his chair, allowing himself to bask in your affectionate gesture. His shoulders slumped slightly, a gesture of surrender and acceptance of your concern.
"I'm aware," he replied in a monotone voice, his eyes still fixated on the documents in front of him. "There is much work to be done, and I cannot afford to waste time on trivialities."
"Mm, but our cold bed misses you," he could feel your apparent pouty lips against his neck, earning a small smirk curling up his lips in return. "Oh, habibti. Is it our cold bed that misses me or a certain clingy someone else?" He huffs out a chuckle, and you tighten your arms around him in return, "i could choke you right now, you know?" You roll your eyes and he only hums at the useless threat.
"Although I do apologize," he said quietly, reaching up to place his hand on yours, a gesture of affection. "I do not intend to neglect you, but these matters require my immediate attention."
This time you hum back in return, burying your face into his neck and planting sweet featherlight kisses along his skin to which he visibly flinched as your lips continued grazing his skin, a barely discernible sign of irritation, his focus broken by your affection.
"Your attempts to disarm me through affection are not unnoticed," he remarked, his tone hinting at a subtle irritation. "As you are well aware, dearest, I am attempting to focus on my work at the moment."
"I'm barely doing anything distracting." you reply innocently. Alhaitham raised an eyebrow, skepticism evident in his expression, "Barely?" he echoed, glancing at you skeptically. "You are practically draped over me like a limp leaf. Surely you can see how your presence alone might be a tad distracting."
You sigh at his words, choosing to just stay quiet in his presence, you do find it soothing sometimes.
"I suggest you find something else to keep you occupied while I finish my work."
"Come to bed with me to sleep, pleaseee. Just tonight."
Alhaitham visibly faltered at your persistence, his resolve starting to crumble. He knew that he could never truly deny you anything, especially when you used your most effective strategies against him.
"Fine," he finally relented, the corners of his lips curling into a small smile. "But only for tonight. I still have much to attend to come morning." You move back, patting your own shoulder in victory.
"and i win again."
"You are insufferable." He pushes himself back from the seat and stands up, only to see your hand out for him to slot his hand in, "You truly are a relentless force," he remarked quietly, "But I suppose I should not be surprised by now. Come, let us retire for the night."
As he led you both back to your room, his fingers intertwined with yours.
"aren't you going to give me a goodnight kiss?" You ask as you sit on the soft mattress of the bed, Alhaitham following after.
"Only one." He murmured, lifting a hand to gently hold one side of your face while leaning closer to give your lips a chaste kiss. "Two," you insist, already pressing your lips together before he could protest.
"... What can i do without you."
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kopilot-pop · 5 months
Text
[New Jeans x Oldest Member! Reader] - #3
-imagine.
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Summary: Silly little fics of you and the gorls. You’re basically the tired father figure in their lives.
Warning(s): Cursing, car accident?, bribing a worker?,!crack humor, Hanni has a stalker, you get violent, etc.
A/N: This is like really unserious lmao. I wrote it really lighthearted. Also, this was written over the course of the whole Ador vs Hybe situation. So please understand I’m slowly becoming more unhinged as the story goes.
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#1
You’re strong. I mean physically strong. All of New Jeans, hell, ADOR knows that.
Oh where’s Y/n unnie?; She’s out for a jog.
Unnie is your hand okay?; Yeah, I just had a sparring match today.
That’s just a part of your life.
Fans adore this about you, the girls adore this about you, and today, you’ve come to appreciate this fact too.
Especially when a stalker decided to show his face again at the airport.
It’s been about 2 months since you’ve last seen the man. He went viral on the news (by news I mean Dispatch) for being Hanni’s stalker.
The last time you met him - oh, it was ugly.
He snuck into a performance venue disguised as a staff member. You were the one that caught him lurking near the MC waiting room.
‘Hanni’s supposed to be in there.’
Five. seconds.
That’s all it took for Hanni’s scream to pierce your ear.
The stalker barged into the room, grabbed the girl, and attempted to drag her towards the exit.
You don’t remember much after that scene.
Actually you might remember punching his face something and throwing something him across the wall, but that doesn’t really matter does it?
It mattered alot to Dispatch, who got a hold of the security footage, and decided to share it for the world to see.
The whole situation cause alot of debates of “Oh he’s a stalker. He deserved it. Good job Y/n!” versus “Wow, you didn’t have to get that violent Y/n.”, and in the end, the company decided to put you on a short hiatus and a long scolding from the producer.
Currently, you guys are standing across a crosswalk in front of the airport. The six of you are scheduled to perform in Paris in a few days and decided to get there early to settle in. You all planned a short vacation before having a whole week of dancing after dancing.
So imagine your surprise to see the dirty little freak right between the paparazzis - with a broken camera, might I add - staring at your group.
After acknowledging his presence, you quickly turned to Hanni - hoping that she didn’t notice him yet.
Unfortunately, you were too late.
Hanni’s body was slightly shaking and you could see the fear in her eyes as she stares directly towards the area where the stalker is.
Instinctively, you rushed to her side, and held her waist with your arm.
“I’m not letting him get to you, bub.”
“I.. oh you saw him too?”
“Mm-hm, and I’ll sucker-punch him if he tries to touch you again, alright?”
Hanni giggles, “Nooo, I don’t want you to be stuck in our dorms again!”
“I think it’ll be worth it if I get to break his nose this time, no?”
Minji - overhearing your conversation - butts in.
“Please don’t break anybody’s nose today unnie.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Minji gives you a skeptical look and you give her an innocent smile.
When the crosswalk light turns green, the whole group starts to walk through the group of people, as security tries to make enough room for you guys to pass.
The six of you were just about to manage through the gates when Hanni’s pained scream cuts through the air. You snap your head towards your right to see the same stalker gripping a fist-full of her hair.
And in just a millisecond, a loud crack replaces the girl’s scream.
The paparazzis’ cameras went wild with flashes - all trying to capture how you grabbed the man by his collar and slammed your fist right into his nose. Your pupils were blown wide, piercing right through the stalker writhing on the floor.
“Y/N!!”
Minji was the only one quick enough to snap out of her shock and grab onto you before you could attempt to break anymore of his bones..
Yeah, guess you’re not making it to Paris.
———————————————————————
#2
“UNNIE!! Look at this!!”
Danielle happily skips over to the rack filled to the brim with different bunny plushies. You, her and Haerin all decided to go to a state fair that was happening only an hour away from the hotel.
Technically, you were dragged here by the two of them, but that doesn’t matter.
You watched as the girls looked through the pile of plushies while sipping in your smoothie.
‘Is this what parenthood feels like..’
When the two of them finally chose a bunny they liked, they simultaneously looked over to you… expectingly..
“What. Wait. I already bought us food?”
They nod.
“And hats, I bought us three hats.”
They nod, again.
They’re now directly under your nose, giving you those big puppy eyes. Sweat drips down your back, and it’s definitely not because of the Texas heat.
With a exasperated sigh, you reach into your back pocket and take out your card.
“Excuse me, how much for two of those plushies?”
“Oh, so sorry, but those aren’t for sale. You have to win 50 tickets to win two of them!”
The worker gives you a smile and continues helping out a family near the shooting range. When you turn around, Danielle has a clear pout on her face.
“Aww.. I thought I could buy them..”
“Not you, I could buy them.”
“Potato po-tah-to.”
For a moment you think of the choices you have. It’s either waste cash on a rigged shooting range, give up on the plushes, and.. oh.
“Can the two of you get wait in line for the bucket of cookies over there? Here-”
You hand over a 20$ bill. Danielle squeals happily and Haerin finally has a tiny smile on her face. The older girl grabs her hand and runs towards the stand.
As soon as they turn their backs on you, you slither over to the worker again.
“I need the plushies.”
“Wha- oh it’s you again. Look man, we have a policy that we can’t sell the prizes for c-cash.. wha..what is that..”
You quickly tuck a 100 dollar bill into his front pocket and give him an innocent smile.
“Dude, this isn’t a drug deal, I- ugh, fine, I’ll grab you the fucking plushies”
“Thank you :D”
You carry the two bunny plushies in your arms and a giant teddy bear the man gave you in return for a signature to give to his sister.
You awkwardly walk towards your groupmates while balancing the giant furball on your back.
“Y/n unnie!!! Oh my god! What is that?!”
Danielle looks clearly surprised, but you can tell she’s having a hard time containing her smile. Haerin’s trying her best to help you with the teddy bear.
“I.. uh…-holyshitthisisheavy- I hit the jack pot! Yeah, jackpot….”
You give them a toothy grin, not noticing the group of people taking photos of the three of you, and definitely not realizing the absolute fever Twitter is having over the pictures.
———————————————————————
#3
“I’m telling you guys, nothing’s gonna happen-”
A loud scream cuts off Minji as a ghost jumps out from the wardrobe.
Hanni and Danielle screams louder than the ghost, and runs into your arms in fear. You turn around to see Minji in the same situation as you - just with Hyein.
“Nevermind…” Minji rolls her eyes as the actor scurries off to a different room.
But her nonchalant behavior doesn’t last long when something under the bed grabs her ankle. She screams and - quite literally - jumps into your arms.
“WHY DID YOU CHOOSE A HAUNTED HOUSE FOR YOUR BUCKET LIST.”
The moment you let down a wide-eyed Minji, Hanni grabs your collar and shakes you; Pretty sure she’s trying to get revenge, but having absolutely no impact.
“Ack- I thought it would be fun..”
“FUN?! YOU THINK GHOSTS AND DEAD PEOPLE ARE FUN???!!!”
While Hanni growls at you with tears in her eyes, Haerin bravely opens the next door, only to be met with a doll dropped right in front of her face.
The shock causes her to let out a scream-
‘My ears are ringing.’
which you never expected from her - and run towards you to use your body as a shield.
“ALRIGHT, you guys stand behind me, and I’ll open all the doors, okay? That way I’m the one being threatened by the next ghoul or whatever…”
The girls nod their heads in unison. Hanni finally lets go of your collar to grip onto your left arm.
You cautiously kick open several doors, trying to find the exit, and on the third try you finally find another long corridor with a glowing exit sign at the end. The 6 of you slowly walk towards it but freezes when the buzzing sound of a chainsaw starting echoes from behind.
You’re the only one brave enough to turn around and see the clown standing in the middle of the room you guys just left.
“Okay, don’t panic but there’s a clown-”
The girls scream in unison as they sprint towards the exit like their life depends on it. You follow suit, and use your body to bust down the last door.
The whole group falls toward the ground together, and the younger girls naturally grab onto you, tightly closing their eyes in fear.
“Um… Congrats…?”
When you see the employee standing behind the counter, you sigh in relief that the haunted house is over.
“Guys, we escaped the house.”
They finally detach from you to take a look around their surroundings.
“Oh! Well that was nothing.” Hanni scoffs confidently, causing everyone around her to let out a deep sigh.
———————————————————————
#4
“We got into a car accident.”
“WHAT?!”
You jump up from the bed - almost dropping your phone - and check the contact name again.
“Yeah, I think Haerin unnie has a concussion.”
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.”
You quickly put the phone on speaker and fumble around to find your jacket.
“Yeah.. so since Haerin unnie got her license we decided to take your car out for a drive..”
“Wait, wait- MY CAR?!”
“Yeah, you said we can take it out whenever we want? Anyways, we decided to go to the beach… but the road was really messy, I think my phone is glitched, unnie.”
“HUH?!”
“We kinda went down this hill… blah blah blah… we hit a telephone poll- blah blah….”
“Oh my god.”
You rush out the door to the location Hyein has told you. When you arrive, you spot the girls and your BMW M3 that you recently acquired after begging your uncle for 3 months to sell it to you.
With a quick glance you can tell that - thankfully - the car is only a little scratched up, so you immediately turn your attention to the girl curled up in the driver’s seat.
Haerin’s head is against the handle with both of her arms covering her face. Her knuckles are almost white.
“Hey, hey, you okay?”
The only response you receive is a tiny groan from the younger girl.
“Hyein said you might have a concussion? Can you look at me sweetheart?”
“She’s been like this the whole time.” Hyein chimes in.
“The car can be fixed, it’s fine, just a scratch. But it’s more important to me if you’re fine, bub.”
With that a few seconds of silence passes and you finally get a tiny ‘I’m okay’ from Haerin.
“Alright then, let’s move you to the backseat so I can drive us to the hospital, okay? Hyein, get in the passenger seat.”
“Hell yeah! Shotgun!!”
You carry Haerin to the backseat, but as you try to get her seatbelt on, you finally notice the frown on her face.
“Haerin, I’m not disappointed you guys took my car out. I told you guys you’re free to do that. However, I am upset that you guys weren’t careful and got hurt. Okay? We can talk about that after we check if the two of you are fine.”
“What- me too?”
“YES, YOU TOO. YOU WERE ALSO IN THE CAR!”
Hyein pouts at your disbelief. You sigh and give Haerin a peck on her forehead, and hurry to your seat to get to the hospital.
“Put your seatbelt on bub, I’m speeding to the ER.”
“W-wait, you just told us to be caref-AHHH!!”
———————————————————————
A/N: This was fun to write lol.
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luvfy0dor · 4 months
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Soft Touches 'Nd Stuff ♡⁠˖
Warnings; Suggestive, cursing in a/n, I still only write specifically for BSD, my friends suggested characters from other fandoms, so credit to them; @ilovechuuy4 and @yaeeko and others not on tumblr
Description; Sleepy morning affection ;3
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Imagine laying in your bed with the sunrise visible through your window, dying the sky a pretty wash of pink, oranges and yellows all blended together. Your boyfriends arms are wrapped around your waist with his head burrowed in the crook of your neck and his chest rising and falling against your back. You mindlessly kept your eyes fixated on the rising sun while you waited for him to wake up, taking deep and steady breaths and basking in the peace and silence. Five minutes passed before you could feel his hand rub from your waist to your thigh and his breath on your neck, making you nearly shiver. "Mm.. goodmorning." He whispered, his voice scratchy from sleep. He momentarily rolled onto his back to stretch, kicking you while he stretched his legs and took on a starfish position. Once he felt physically refreshed, he curled right back up to you and kissed your cheek. "Goodmorning." You reply, reaching back to entangle your hand in his hair. "I had the funniest dream about you, last night.." he whispers with an audible grin, and his hands slide down your tummy to your abdomen. You let out a sigh, feeling his ticklish fingers against your skin. "Yeah? Was it really funny?" You ask, a little skeptical. He laughs under his breath and shakes his head. "Maybe not funny, but definitely fun." He leans forward to kiss along the back of your neck, his fingers hooking around the waist band of your pajama bottoms. "Can I show you what we did?" His voice sent more shivers down your spine, squirming in place and nodding. "Mhm.." you let his hands into your pants, feeling them start to touch you where others never had, and never would so long as he gets a say. His excitement was evident as you grinded your ass against his hips needily. "Perfect. When I'm done with you, you'll be glad I decided to tell you about it, sweetheart."
→ Dazai, Chuuya, Nikolai, Tachihara, I wrote this w/ Fyodor in mind but idrk, Belphie, Mello, Heizou, Kaeya, Tartaglia, Wriothsley, Alhaithem, Oikawa, Gojo, Jean, Gallagher, Blade, Boothill, Sampo, Aventurine, Argenti nd your favs!!
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A/n; hey chat sorry for the disappearance!! I had to take the AP World History Exam today!! It wasn't terrible to be quite fair!!! (it wasn't a cold war leq like I desired) (what the fuck was that dbq) (I'm going to kill myself) (not seriously obviously)(update from August chat i got a 5 im so dramatic)
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chilschuck · 6 months
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Chilchuck but we are his pretty wife, and we didn't abandon him this time.
Not only that, but we are also very caring and nice, and it's practically a surprise how we are with someone like Chilchuck.
I can picture him standing with a serious face and all gloomy, and then we are next to him beaming rays of sunshine (bonus if we are also blonde and a hafling)
They are literally the "sunshine x grumpy" trope
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhhh my god. so……..i was so happy with this cute request that i kind of ran with it LOL. this is such a good concept and i can picture this so well in my brain. i wrote a domestic lil drabble that i hope is okay, as my thoughts just went insane over this. WAHHHH i hope you enjoy and that this is okay!! thank you so much for your idea, anon!! <3
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— SUNSHINE: chilchuck x wife!reader.
꒰ rating: ꒱ sfw and soooo fluffy. reader is also a half-foot!
꒰ wc: ꒱ 675
✦ please i need more domestic bliss with this man. he deserves to feel so loved and happy. i tried to keep this light and sweet and playful bc i think he’d be grumpy but also. give this man the love he needs and he’ll thrive please chilchuck just one chance please pleas—
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“Chil?” Your voice was so soft and sweet, it’s honey-like tone melting him to his core. You had decided to surprise him with breakfast this morning, something you loved to do when you had him here with you.
If the smell didn’t rouse him, your presence certainly did. It was an understatement to say that you were his weak spot, a point within him that he tried not to dwell on too much. Especially when the sun hit you in that halo of light at just the right angle, seeping through the windows and making his eyes flutter. Waking up to you was an experience he felt he couldn’t get enough of, drunk off of your velvet words as you brushed the bangs out of his face.
“Mm?” Was his only response, leaning subconsciously into your touch with a gruff sigh. You only laughed, that twinkle in your voice causing his heart to stutter within his chest. Why must he be married to the human form of sunshine? Surely his constant grumpiness would deter you, but much to his amusement, it only made you grin.
“Do you want breakfast, love?” Gods, when you called him that, he could feel his ears burn hot. Finally fully opening his eyes, his gaze found yours, softening instantly. How he managed to find someone like you, he would never understand. Regardless, he sat up, pawing at his eyes to dust the sleep from them. “I’d rather have you.” You heard him grumble, cheeks rosy. Another one of those addicting laughs left you. He didn’t think it was amusing. “Fine, I’ll get up…”
You practically bounced in place, rocking on your feet in excitement. It wasn’t hard to see that you adored your husband, his sleep shirt wrinkled and hair messy from sleep making you bite your lip in glee. Chilchuck gave you a skeptical look, scratching the back of his head before stretching. The action reminded you that he did have a little height on you, your own size as a half-foot causing you to feel small in any context. His shirt rode up to expose the tummy there, causing you to leave your gaze locked at that spot for a moment.
“Are you really this excited for me to get out of bed?” He mused, grumpiness slowly ebbing away at the warmth completely radiating off of you. You felt yourself nod, wrapping your arms around his waist and peering up at him with that expression that always made him weak in the knees. “I’m always excited for my husband to wake up and join the living again.”
“Is that so?” Chilchuck grinned, his voice rumbling in his chest and tingling against your skin. “You want a grump like me awake at this hour?” You couldn’t help but feed into him, continuing to nod your head cheerfully. “Really? Then it would be a shame if…”
Before he finished his sentence, you felt yourself pulled down to the bed as he fell backwards, a yelp leaving you in shock. He held you in his embrace, nuzzling into your neck and yawning. “...I took you down with me. Oh well.” Obnoxiously fake snores followed his teasing reply, causing you to laugh in bewilderment.
“Chilchuck, are you serious? I had finally gotten you up! Everything that I made is gonna get cold!” Although you spoke with mock frustration, the longer you found yourself in his embrace, the more you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Huffing, you relented. “Not my fault that your breakfast is going to be freezing by the time you finally get moving.” Your own grumbling, voice muffled against his shirt, caused him to chuckle. Your head buzzed.
His playfulness this morning made you feel a little giddy, studying his face as the light filtered in. A few gray hairs were illuminated in the sea of auburn, something you found pleasure in. You had to remind yourself that you both weren’t as young as you used to be, but if you were able to continue spending this life with him, well… Maybe it wasn’t so bad.
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bau-muffin · 6 months
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“Pure Intentions”
Ship: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Rating: E
Category: Fluff
Word Count: 1,162 Words
Summary: You are an agent who is also spiritual and loves crystals. So, you decide to give your favorite boss man, SSA Aaron Hotchner, black tourmaline.
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Hotch really didn’t know why insomnia had chosen to haunt him on a Sunday night, but he felt the full extent of it when he stepped into the bullpen the next morning. He wasn’t really given to vanity, but he felt like his eyebags were eye-totes now, and even though he had downed a cup of coffee before leaving the house, he felt like if he was still for even a second, he’d fall asleep.
Of course the weekend he had off was when his mind barred him from a good night’s rest- the night before work, no less.
He had not been at his desk for more than ten minutes when you bustled into his office, your smile wide as usual despite being almost eight in the morning.
“Good morning! I was going to wait closer to lunch, but then Penelope told me a case came in, so I decided to give this-“ you stopped to actually look at him, and even though an amused smile was pulling at his lips, he looked so exhausted. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked how you were doing first.”
“I’m not sick, just tired,” Hotch said kindly, “what do you have?”
“Black tourmaline! I know you’re not much of a spiritualist, but the low down on it is that it sponges up negative energy! And I mean… I know you don’t exactly have a choice, you know, to be or not to be around negative energy but…” you shrugged before admitting, “It also reminded me of you too. Also, again I know you don’t put huge stock into it, but I also charged it for you.”
You put the shiny black chunk on his desk, almost shyly. He picked it up, studying it and turning it over in his hands. You half expected him to pull his reading glasses out to look at it, and if he had- well, you couldn’t rightly be held responsible for the noise you might have made.
“This reminds you of me?” Hotch asked skeptically, his brows knitted slightly.
“Mhm! It’s a bodyguard type crystal. And… I guess you have that sort of… vibe? To me anyways,” you added on a little less than tactfully as you were visibly becoming fidgety, your hands smoothing down your skirt.
“You see me as the bodyguard type.”
You put your hands on your hips, an eyebrow raising. “Did you or did you not become overprotective when I said that my car alarm was going off in the parking lot and you insisted on stealthily going towards the car first with your pistol? Or did I hallucinate that?”
“I’ve seen some things in my time, and I know malevolent people would target a woman who’s alone when she’s leaving her workplace,” Hotch said defensively. You only smiled.
“Whatever you say. Regardless, that’s for you. Maybe, one day, I’ll get a keychain for you.”
“Thank you, that was… actually thoughtful and sweet of you. You’re right that I don’t put a whole lot of stock into this… sort of thing,” he admitted as he turned the crystal over in his palm again, “but I think… I think the weight of intentions are real.”
“Maybe those intentions will carry you home safe from this case, then. Judging from the groaning sounds coming from Garcia’s cave, I’m thinking it’s a doozy. By the way…”
“Mm?”
“Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee before you go in to briefing?”
“That would be wonderful of you, thank you. One sugar-“
“-and no cream. I know how you make your coffee, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner,” you teased.
Hotch shook his head. “The full government name.”
You turned to walk out when he called your name, and you turned back to him.
“Can you come to my desk for a second?”
You complied, going to his desk with a nervous giggle. You thought he was going to speak, but instead he simply rose from his seat and kissed your cheek.
You touched your flushing cheek with a slightly shaky hand. “What was that for?”
He shrugged. “Just a thank you for being as thoughtful as you are. Truly… you make working here a bit easier.”
“Aw, you’re going to make me cry, so I’ll laugh instead.” You were going to turn to flee, but boldness filled you and you leaned up to kiss his cheek, except he moved, and you kissed the corner of his stern lip.
“Uh-” you backed away from him.
“Don’t panic,” Hotch ordered calmly- almost too calmly- “it’s not your fault, it was mine for reacting too quickly.”
Your cheeks flushed hot red and despite his command to not panic, you immediately fled the scene, leaving behind a confused but slightly amused Aaron.
A few minutes later, JJ entered his office with his cup of coffee in one hand and sat it on his desk, the other arm full of file folders. She gestured with her head towards the bullpen, “Hey, um, Agent-“
“I know,” Hotch said with a minuscule smirk, sipping the coffee, and almost immediately moaned aloud. True to your word, you knew exactly how he takes his coffee. He kept glancing towards the crystal sitting on his desk, and when Garcia called for him to come to the briefing room, he carefully slid it in his pocket.
On the jet, after all the details of the case had been discussed, Hotch leaned back in the chair, his fourth cup of coffee of the day in his hand. Even though he made his coffee exactly the same as always, it didn’t taste nearly as good as the one you made for him. He took the black tourmaline out of his pocket and held it in his hand. It works on a jet, right? It’s closer to the sun, it has to be like the best charging method.
“What do you have there?” Rossi asked from across him, looking up from a book- a compilation of Garfield comic strips over the years.
“A crystal. I think it’s… black tourmaline?”
Reid, of course, overheard this and had to jump in with, “you know, within pagan and spiritual circles, black tourmaline has protective properties, banishing negative vibrations, and it’s also supposed to be grounding.” He looked at the crystal in Hotch’s hand. “Oh yeah, I’ve seen this crystal on that agent’s desk. She and Anderson talk about them all the time, and apparently she keeps some of them in her desk, as does Anderson.”
“She and Anderson are good friends,” Hotch volunteered. “She’s the one who gave this to me.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” Rossi commented, sounding too innocent for Hotch’s liking.
“She is,” Hotch agreed simply, not taking the bait.
He and “that agent” were going to have to have a conversation when he got back home- he was entirely too intrigued by you. Perhaps he could ask you what crystal was the best for asking someone on a date.
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Wonderwall
Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read
A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.
Masterlist
Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.
These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.
You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise. 
“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.
“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”
“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”
“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?” 
“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head 
“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”
“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”
“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”
“But you don’t ha–”
“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”
“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”
“Your… brother-in-law?”
“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.” 
You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”
“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.  
Maria has, once again, fixed your problem. 
—-
RING… RING… RING… 
Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”
“Miller,” a deep voice answers.
“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you. 
“Speaking.”
“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”
“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”
“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”
“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”
—-
Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”
"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?
"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?" 
Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”
“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”
“She’s good at that.”
“Thanks again Joel.”
“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.” 
“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”
“You too.”
After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach. 
“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door. 
Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else. 
You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.
"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."
"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.
“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”
“What?”
Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.” 
___
A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.
The doorbell rings. 
Okay, okay, you got this.
A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders. 
“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside. 
“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.” 
A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room. 
“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”
“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.
“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.” 
“Sure thing.” 
As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh. 
Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night. 
“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”
He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.” 
“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle. 
You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress. 
You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.
“Ready?” you ask. 
“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. . 
—-
Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in. 
The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.
He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.
Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day. 
You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house. 
People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?
You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.
Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here. 
“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”
“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”
“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion. 
___
The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him. 
Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own. 
Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day. 
As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt. 
The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.
The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times. 
You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.
You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence. 
“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride. 
Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you. 
The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar. 
You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.
A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.
“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down. 
“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”
“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”
“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” . 
“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.
“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy. 
“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”
“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.  
“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”
“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.
“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.” 
“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.
“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality. 
The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look. 
You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves,  shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented. 
Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts! 
The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.
They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…
Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.” 
You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.” 
“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.
He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting. 
Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties. 
“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper. 
You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body. 
Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.
The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel. 
Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor. 
Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness. 
“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”
The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham. 
Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same. 
“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug. 
If only he knew…
You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple. 
“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you. 
“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.” 
“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds. 
You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.
The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.
“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”
“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”
Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”
“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”
Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket. 
Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.
The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.
“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.
“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”
You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.” 
“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.” 
Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years. 
“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind. 
“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes. 
“I-I’d like that too.” 
Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”
“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.
“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”
“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice. 
From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests. 
Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?” 
“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.
You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.
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luveline · 7 months
Note
need need NEED more hop x reader w el they are the CUTEST
“So she’s coming?” El asks. 
Hopper pushes a glass of orange juice in her direction. “Mm-hm.” 
“And she wants to see me.” 
“Yeah, kid, she wants to see you.” 
Eleven’s hair curls just under her ears. Hopper hadn’t suspected her hair would be curly once it began to grow, but it waves gently, and tighter the longer it becomes. He doesn’t know how to take care of it. He only just taught her how to use shampoo and conditioner without leaving all the suds in. 
She scratches it. “What are you looking at?” 
“Nothing.” He ruffles her hair. “Eat your breakfast. You can get changed when you’re done. You need me to help you find something?” 
“No. I like choosing.” 
Hopper knows. She isn’t good at matching yet, but she’ll get there. 
She eats her breakfast too quickly, doesn’t drink her juice, and doesn’t put her plate in the sink before she goes, but Hopper doesn’t bother getting mad. He’s trying to be less moody. He’s also trying to be understanding; she’s learning to be a normal kid. Most normal kids are slobs. 
“Can we have dessert?” El shouts from her room. 
“You can have a snack later.” 
“Please?” 
“You can have some chips once you get dressed. Are you still hungry, or–?” 
“Snacks,” she says, turning on her radio. 
Hopper nods, laughing to himself when there’s a knock at the door. He’s been waiting to see you all weekend, and he walks to the door with a terrible smugness about him to let you in. 
“Hello,” he says, wedging the creaky frame open with his shoe. 
“Hi, handsome.” You look up into his eyes, fresh-faced like you’ve had a good scrub and dressed for a day in the house in cuffless sweatpants and a hoodie he thinks might be his. “Wow, nice shirt, hotshot. What is that? The Hawkins Police Department fun run of eighty two? That’s vintage.” 
He leans down to kiss you hello. 
“Oh, hi,” you flirt. 
You’re confident when you know you’re loved, he’s found. Still the homespun woman he knew you to be, but affectionate once you’re comfortable. He smiles into your mouth and pulls you tight to his chest, lifting you off of your feet for a millisecond before placing you back down. 
“Where’s my girl?” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. 
“El?” you call. You slide around him to find her but turn back, “Did you ask her about the hugging?” 
“She says it’s fine.” 
“Like, she wants to?” 
It had been a strange conversation. Hopper is used to telling El things, or being told things by her. He didn’t ask her what she likes for breakfast, he just kept guessing until he found the right stuff. She never asked him if she could sit in his side during movies, she just inched closer until he put his arm around her. 
“She wants to,” Hopper says. She’d seemed perturbed by the question, sure, but it ended with her happy little smile through a handful of popcorn. 
“El?” you call again. 
“Kid! Your best friend is here!” Hopper shouts. 
Thunder from her bedroom, a door swung open and slapping the wall. “Y/N?” she asks, the skirt of her dress swinging as she pauses in the doorway. 
You smile and step forward. You’re tentative but excited all the same, laughing as you wrap your arms around her shoulders, and pat her back. “Hi, beautiful.” 
“Where have you been? It’s two weeks.” 
“Yeah? I didn’t mean to not see you for so long, I’m sorry.” 
“Hop says you have lots to do.” 
“There’s a leak in my bathroom,” you take her by the shoulders. “Aw, this is nice. When’d you get this? It’s light and summery.” 
“Hop… from a catalogue.” 
You raise your brows at him, grinning. “That’s nice. How many did you get?” 
“We got five.” 
“Five! From the catalogue!” You hold her hand. “Hop must really like you, huh? Who can blame him?” 
El looks down at your joined hands. Hopper feels his skeptic heart softening. “He likes you, too.” 
“But do we like him?” you joke, letting go of her hand to put your arm behind her back instead. You give Hopper a look. 
“What?” he asks. 
“I was thinking we’d go out for milkshakes?” 
Hopper bites his tongue. El has a birth certificate now, she’s his daughter, she can’t be taken, but going out with her into the world draws stares and derision alike. People can tell she’s abnormal, and he can’t stand that. She doesn’t deserve to be gawked at for talking a little slowly, or messing with stuff she doesn’t understand. 
But he doesn’t want her feeling punished for those things either. 
“Get your jacket, El.” She beams, rushing for her room. “She’s gonna love the jukebox,” Hopper says. 
You meander back into his arms, kissing his stubbly cheek. He pretends to nudge you away.
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