#I’m so in love with him is that obvious I think it’s obvious

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: sleepy af

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“You need a box, doll?” Bucky flutters his fingers toward your plate, “you don’t gotta finish all that.” 

You look down at the untouched half of your sandwich. You’d barely poked at the pesto salad on the side either. You can’t help it; your stomach is swirling like a storm. Aside from that, you’re so self-aware that you make certain each bite is tidy and small.  

You bring the napkin to your lips before you answer, “oh, sure, I guess. Um, thank you.” 

“You have a big breakfast?” He wonders as he lifts his glass, squinting at its emptiness. 

“I...” you sniff. You didn’t eat at all. “I’m too nervous.” 

You cringe as your honestly flows free. You don’t know why you said that. Maybe it’s the similarly empty glass in front of you. He smiles, his dimples showing handsomely on his bearded cheeks. 

“You don’t gotta be,” he sets the glass down, his forearm across the table. “Is it me? I make you nervous.” 

You look away and cup your chin. You purse your lips and inhale slowly. You dare to face him again. You nod into your hand. 

“What about me makes you nervous?” He wonders, his eyes sparkling. It has to be obvious. So obvious that he must be teasing you. 

“You know,” you murmur. 

“Genuinely curious,” he clears his expression and sits back, “we’re having a good time. Good chat. So... you’re nervous, why?” 

“Because you’re...” your brows squiggle, “you. I’m just me.” 

“And what’s so bad about being just you?” 

You scoff, “I think... maybe you made a mistake. I’m not... anything.” 

“What does that mean?” He prompts. 

Before you can answer, Hailee appears. The slim server offers you a refill. Bucky waits for you to answer first. You decline and he puts his hand over his own glass. 

“We’ll take the cheque,” he says and she flits off to do his bidding. He returns his attention to you before you can shrink further, “well... what do you mean?” 

Your eye drift evasively. He just latches on and doesn’t let go. It’s overwhelming. You watch Hailee as she taps the tablet on the bar top across the roof. You glance at Bucky again. 

“I’m not tall or thin or a supermodel,” you say quietly. He leans in as he tilts his head thoughtfully. 

“If I wanted that, that’s who would be sitting here with me. I don’t mind that you’re a little small. It’s... I like it, actually. And a supermodel? Doll, those types got nothing on you.” 

You touch your cheeks then drag your hands away, “thanks, but...” 

“But?” He echoes. 

“Nothing. Nothing,” you assure him meekly, “I just... I’m not sure about all this.”  

Hailee once more returns. She hands Bucky the bill and he doesn’t even look at it as he slides his wallet out of his pocket. He hands her his card and the slip of paper. Once more, she’s off. 

“Not sure?” He says. 

“Sorry, I just...” once more you look at the server as she swipes his card. When you look back, Bucky’s watching you intently, “please keep your money. You paid for lunch, that’s enough.” 

“But doll--” 

“Please, I don’t feel right taking it,” you put your palms out and drop your hands, “thank you for lunch but I’m not cut out for this.” 

“Hm,” he clicks his tongue and leans his chin on his knuckles, “don’t decide right now. I get it. It’s a lot at once. So think about it and get back to me.” 

“I... I’m telling you,” you wilt, “I don’t think... I’m not what you think I am.” 

“I have no idea what you are, doll,” he extends his fingers under his chin, “but I like what I see and I want more.” 

You shakily bring your hand to your neck. He can’t mean it. He can’t want you. No way. If you say yes, how long does that last? You didn’t come here for lunch or an ‘arrangement’. You need a job. You need something sustainable. 

Besides, you never thought you’d ever consider being a prostitute. That’s what he’s suggesting, isn’t it? You’re pathetic but you have some standards. 

You sigh. You said no once, maybe more, maybe not firmly enough, but he’s not hearing you. So you will ‘think about it’ and repeat yourself later. 

“Alright,” you agree as you lean back and pull your hands into your lap. 

“All I’m asking for is a chance,” he says. Your heart pulses tightly. He’s asking you? “Let’s get your leftovers packed up and I'll take you home.” 

“Oh, uh, I can get a cab--” 

“Nah,” he waves you off, “I’m here. Merv’s gotta get me back to the casino as it is.” 

🃏

“You’ll call me, won’t you, doll?” Bucky asks as Merv stops outside the curb of your mother’s house. 

You peek up through the tinted window and back at the man beside you. He shamelessly has his arm stretched over the seat above your shoulders, the scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. You nod dumbly before you process his words. 

“Yeah, I will,” you assure him as you undo your seat belt and untangle your purse from the strap. 

“Don’t leave me hanging,” he pulls his arm away and brushes your shoulder then down your sleeve. 

“I won’t, like I said... I’ll think about it,” you reach for the handle and he hums. 

“I had a good time. I like talking to you, doll.” 

You stop yourself from fleeing like you so desperately want to do. You turn back to him. You’re struck by him, not for the first time. Someone like him noticed you and did all this. It feels like you’re drowning. You can barely think straight. 

 “Me too. It was really nice,” you breathe. 

He stares at your, almost expectantly, and his lips curve slightly. Are you forgetting something? Heat speckles over your cheeks. Is he leaning in? 

“Hey, don’t forget your leftovers,” he sits back and reaches to the other side of the seat, picking up the box. 

“Oh, thanks,” you take it, your fingers touching his. 

“Don’t let me keep you, ‘cause I will,” he winks, “I’m sure you got someone waiting for you.” 

“Uh, yeah, my mom won’t be home yet but...” you suppress your irrelevant thoughts. You’ll give the sandwich and salad and to Roxie. She never complains for free food. “Yeah, er, thanks.” 

He chuckles and claps his hand down on your leg, “too sweet, doll. It’s my pleasure and there’s a lot more where that came from.” He squeezes and removes his hand, “just making a last-ditch case for myself.” He inhales and his shoulders rise and he fixes his collar, “have a good one, alright? Take it easy, think...” 

“I will,” you affirm once more, “er, bye.” 

You open the door and barely keep from tripping onto the curb. You peer back one last time and attempt a smile, trying to hide the sinking pit in your chest. You don’t need to think about it. You simply cannot give him what he wants. 

You shut the door and back up. You stand cluelessly and wait. When the car doesn’t move, you spin and scurry away. God, how much more awkward can you get? 

You resist the urge to look back as you let yourself in through the front door. The TV babbles from the next room as you twist the lock. Roxie lazes across the couch as the fan oscillates over her. The summer heat has the space stuffy and sticky. The rented house doesn’t have central air and the portable AC crapped out last year. 

“Hey,” you come up to the back of the couch, your anxiety still buzzing behind your ears. You feel different and you feel like she’ll sense it in an instant. You almost want her to say something. 

She doesn’t look away from the screen as she grumbles back at you. 

“Um, mom’s not home yet, right?” 

“Don’t think so,” she yawns, her arm draped above her head against the arm rest. “It’s like three. You sleep all day?” 

You frown. She usually sleeps later, granted, she works until sunlight most nights. 

“No, I had an interview.” 

“Huh, Wendy’s?” She asks. It’s probably an innocent question and a fair assumption, but it still cuts like an insult. 

“No, uh, whatever, I don’t think I got it.” 

“Too bad,” she says. 

You leave her. She’s too enraptured with her reality TV binge. You suppose if you were just waiting to start working, you might just want to shut off too. That’s exactly what you want in that moment. To stop thinking about everything. 

It’s not just Bucky and his offer or whatever you should call it. It’s about your mom and Roxie and being the resident disappointment. You don’t like being dead weight but it seems like it’s all you’ll ever be. There’s more than just yourself to think about in this and yet you just can’t see yourself saying yes. 

You don’t really know what you’re saying yes to. What is it exactly that Bucky wants from you? Sunny lunches and conversations about disco music? You don’t think that’s it but you’re too afraid to think about the implication behind his proposition. 

So you won’t. You won’t-- you can’t accept it. You can’t bring yourself to do... that for money. If you did and your mother ever knew the truth, you shudder to think. No, you can tell an easier lie. 

Sorry, mom, didn’t pan out. Again. But I’ve been applying all around. I’ll get something. 

🃏

The first text Bucky sends, you respond to. It’s the same day as your interview. No, that’s not what it was. He sends a good night and you echo the sentiment. It’s easier to pretend behind a screen. 

You don’t sleep well despite his tidings. You toss and turn and don’t drag yourself out of bed until noon. Your mom’s already at work and you can’t stand to face her. Not since you told her it was another dead end. Roxie’s snoring in her room. 

You go out on the back steps and sit in the sun. It’s all muddled. You know you shouldn’t. You won’t. That’s not you. And even if you could find the courage to say yes, you’re just not that girl. You aren’t the one to be flaunted on a rich guy’s arm. Or the kind to go for manicures and to wear layers of contour. And that’s what he’ll want, even if he says now, it isn’t. Men just want pretty things and you’re not. 

The days pass in a similar idle daze. Every night, he texts. A little back and forth but you say you’re tired and check out after his usual, ‘sweet dreams, doll.’ Two days, three days, four, five, six. A whole week and you know that you have to say it. No. It’s almost as hard as a yes would be. 

When the ‘good morning’ pops up in your notifications, you’re frozen. You can’t even fake it. You can’t hit the automated reply generated by the app. You just lock your phone and put it in your nightstand drawer. You’re a coward, just like you’ve always been. 

You scroll through the job boards. You’ve been spending most of your waking hours trawling them. The postings don’t come as quickly as you apply. Some, you’re sure, you’ve submitted your resume to at least twice. Well, that shows dedication, right? 

You hear your mom come home just after five. You finally sit up from your chronic hunch and groan at the pang between your shoulders. Ugh, that’s not good. You get up and come out as your mother sighs and drops her purse on the table. 

“Hey, I took some drumsticks out,” you say, “I’m gonna do the buffalo sauce.” 

“Oh, hon, that’s amazing, I’m so tired,” she drops into a chair and props a foot on her knee, rubbing her arch, “I need new insoles.” 

You watch her guiltily, chewing your lip. Even if you’re not going to say yes, you almost wish you’d taken that thousand dollars. She wouldn’t have to do overtime so much. You cross your arms. 

“What do you want with it? We got some of the crinkle fries or--” 

The doorbells chimes and you hesitate. It isn’t often it rings. Not for anyone by the landlord on an impromptu visit. You peer over at the same time as your mom. She sends you a curious look as she stands. 

She hobbles away and you feel guilty for letting her. You shy away and wait by the counter. You listen to her footfalls and the schlock of the front door latch as she slides it back. It opens with the usual squeak and you hold your breath as you listen. A low drone meets your mother’s exhausted hello. 

Oh. It wouldn’t be... It can’t be. You assure yourself that you don’t recognise the timbre but even your denial isn’t that strong.  

Slowly, you make your way to the hall and creep down towards your mom as she keeps the door half-way shut against her. It’s him. You hear him say your name. Oh gosh. 

“I’m just following up on her interview. I called but maybe her battery died?” Bucky says. 

You wince and near your mom. 

“Uh, yes, she’s here, I’ll just go--” 

“Mom,” you interject and she jumps in surprise. 

“Oh,” she trills with laughter, “there she is.” 

She lets the door open as you step up next to her, your chest fraught with dread. You stare at Bucky as his blue eyes bore into you. Your mom touches your elbow gently. You’re suddenly overly conscious of your pajama pants and baggy tee. 

“I’ll let you two... chat,” she retreats and leaves you there to his mercy. You can’t beg her to stay without giving yourself away. 

As she heads back down the hall, you step outside and draw the door shut. You know better than to trust her not to eaves drop. How many times had she listened through the doorway when Roxie had one of her boyfriends over. 

“Hey, doll,” Bucky crosses his arms. Is he mad? Does he know you were ignoring him or does he really think your phone died?

“Hi, uh...” 

“You didn’t answer my texts,” he intones. 

“Um, yeah, I... I’ve been... distracted.” 

He nods, a skeptical wrinkle in his forehead, “sure. It's been a week, lots of time to think.” 

You gape up at him. He wants an answer. Now. You have one, but you just can’t say it. You’re silent as tension roils in the humid air. He swoops back a dark lock but doesn’t break his gaze. 

“Look, I... I appreciate your offer and everything else but what you’re asking... if my mom knew...” 

“Hm, yeah,” he puts his hands on his hips, “I thought of that too. You’re a sweet thing and I can see she loves you. It’s unorthodox but I only wanna take care you. Not everyone will understand that.” 

“Right, so I don’t think--” 

“Well, I think she’d be more suspicious if you walked in there and told her I came all the way here not to offer you a job,” he insists, “don’t you?” 

“Y-yeah, but--” you sputter. 

“So, she doesn’t need to know why I’m here, does she? You can tell her you’re working at the casino.” 

“Sure, but I don’t...” you shake your head and look down. He’s right.  

If you tell your mom you missed out on another job, you don’t think you could ever look her in the eye again. It wouldn’t just be another let down but an actual lie. You have an opportunity here. Maybe not the one you thought, but it’s money. After years of living off your mom’s hard work, you owe her. What’s a secret to her not having to work twelves? 

“We get along, don’t we?” He asks. 

You nod. He’s been less than unkind. You can’t really name a single fault on his part. 

“So, I don’t get it. The money, it’s just a bonus,” he explains, “don’t think of it as me paying you to spend time with me, so much as us enjoying each other and both getting the perks from that.” 

“But... but...” you wet your lips with your tongue and clamp them tight. 

He’s cornered you. If you had a few more hours, you could’ve found the strength to take your phone out and type out your rejection but face-to-face? You’re hopeless and you think he knows that. He watches you expectantly. He isn’t hoping, he knows. 

You blow out between your lips and turn your head away, “she can’t ever know.” 

“Doll, for you, I'll keep my lips sealed,” he says, “whatever you want, you got it. That’s the deal.” 

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #casino au #all in #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

[chaldeanu]

unthinkable behaviour ノ dr. ratio

ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . requested by @hwaitham ノ thank you kindly for this request, coco! i hope i did well with his characterisation in such scenario as i’m already too deep in my own lore with him hehe but this one brought me back to look at his behaviour in the game ♡

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.9k ノ gn reader — sweet casual fluff . library romance . reader loves books and studying here ノ dr. ratio is overthinking just because he wants to invite you on a date ノ mostly just his thinking process . but he’s lowkey smitten :3

he looks at the dust flickering in the air, eyes unmoving while his thoughts wander in the speed of light.

“excuse me…” he hears a faint voice calling him from the depths of his mind, quickly focusing his gaze at your hunched form and seeing you pointing a finger at the sculpted visage by his side. “dr. ratio, yes? you’re sitting without your mask…”

he forgot to put on his mask — unthinkable!

“you’re correct. but the mask is to let me think clearly. this time i succeeded in doing so without it.” he adjusts his pristine collar, strands of violet hair falling over his forehead at the movement.

what makes him confused about this moment is that you’re here again, back with some titles hidden in the embrace of your arms.

your face changes into a peculiar expression, and he immediately takes mental note of it. you consider him handsome, it’s obvious. he wants to talk to you more, but instead of doing so, he shifts back his head, causing the rays of light to twinkle over his dazzling facial features, then adjusts the golden laurel above his temple.

now, back on track of his what-ifs and what-nots, he still hasn’t grasped on why and how exactly you managed to bring his entire attention.

dare he say he’s acting irrational? no, it’s too early to call it like that. of course, there must be a logical explanation to his absent-minded state. which of your qualities he finds in you attractive? or, should he mention first — intriguing? let’s not jump to conclusions that he already placed you within his tastes.

brief evaluation leaves him with an image still too vague for his liking, as if he has taken no steps towards solving the case of being enthralled by meeting you here earlier.

he skims through his memory back to the morning meeting at the library.

your answers? silly. but you didn’t seem like a fool to him. eager to hear more, actively listening to his words, leaning closer so you didn’t lose any details of his speech. of course, he enjoyed being in the spotlight of your attention, his ego all sparkly for the rest of the day thanks to your fascinated smile.

his preferred rule of keeping his words few didn’t work. you pulled so many out of him and he wasn’t even angry — quite the opposite. unable to call you dull for wasting his precious time, he basked in your curiosity, surprisingly so scarce even around the university’s grounds. no wonder he met you in the library. books here are certified proofs of expert knowledge, something that went through corrections, editions, multiple readings. they must have made you stop, right? so you couldn’t be dumb. he may even say — more ambitious than some attending his classes, for he hasn’t seen them not even once at the library.

was it perhaps the way you looked at him? if eyes were the window to the soul, what would he see in yours? glint of youthful stubbornness mixed with intelligence, beauty he still tries to deny that speaks to him more and more. he caught a glimpse of his reflection on your corneas. in your eyes, he looked much better than in the mirror.

how absurd is that? yet another thing he doesn’t understand. why would you, a person who can meet the gaze of anyone else entering the library without hesitation, waddle away from being recognised by him? he noticed the hitch of breath, flutter of your lashes, second of daze — as if he caught you off-guard with his stare. is it the fear or perhaps admiration? an aspect that begs to be unravelled, that calls to him, yet he still hasn’t had enough time to dwell on it.

“is everything alright?” your voice brings him back to reality. again. your features are tinted with a hint of concern. “you were spacing out.”

“of course i was. that’s what brought me so many achievements.“ he doesn’t hide his astonishment at your remark.

you turn around to see if there are other people in the library, but there are none. are you worried someone might judge him for being absent-minded for a moment? or is it because you two hold a private conversation?

you peer at him with a puzzled expression. you most likely have no idea about the vast expanse of his expertise in the fields of science. he frowns, then sighs. he doesn’t wish to offend you by telling you that you need to improve your understanding of the situation. once again, he’s not sure about the proper answer either.

“would you like to join me for a coffee during the lunch break?” he offers instead, finding no better solution than testing how you respond to the unexpected.

taking in the possibility of you being absolutely taken aback by such a proposition coming from him, he still hopes for a positive reply so he could observe your reactions and profile your personality further. he looks at you expectantly, perhaps a bit too intensely.

“i… if you want to,” you blink in surprise, processing the question and then nod with a shy smile. “sure…”

did he actually stutter you? a subtle grin curves his lips at the sight of the same thing that you gave him before — the opportunity to take the lead, to teach, to watch, to analyse and grasp you better.

#—writing. #hsr x reader #hsr x you #star rail x reader #star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #gn reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you

[doromoni]

Gear Shift Failure | MV1, LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x presenter! Reader , Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader

Genre : Fluff , Angst

Sub tags : Mutual Pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late.

Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?

Face claim : Sofia Wylie

A/N: Upon receiving many requests, here’s the continuation you lovely goblins 🤍. Also I am still continuing the Clash of Champions ~ i promise (finals end this week!!)

Part 1.

You fought the smile that was forming on your face, as you re-read your conversation with Lando from yesterday.

It has already been a week since your interview with Lando, yet you somehow found yourself in constant communication with the young British Driver. You weren’t going to deny that you enjoyed spending time and talking to him. And maybe going out on dates with Lando would do you good.

“ Ok, so I have a friend and she has a dilemma”

You suddenly broke the silence in the room. You were in your designated office inside Sky yet again, but this time you had the older drivers lazying around your space. Some with a book in hand — while the rest just played on their phones.

“What’s your dilemma muñequita? “ Fernando asked as he set down his phone, giving you his entire attention.

“Not me Nando! My friend” you exclaimed at the Spanish world champion who was lounging on your couch still munching on the chips he found in your stash.

“Mhm… yes your friend. Continue, sweetie~ “ Lewis urged you to speak, as he settled further into your couch right beside Fernando

“ Yes, let the girl speak! What is it Liefje” Nico added as he clutched your oversized plush into his arms, a half-opened book dangling in his hands.

“My friend likes this guy right? The two of them are very close and they share this connection that to others seems more than a friendship- and at one point my friend thought that he felt the same with her a—“

You once again didn’t finish your sentence when Nando interrupted you once more.

“Really? What happe-“The Aston Martin driver was invested

“LET THE GIRL SPEAK!”

“FERNANDO! “

“MATE, I SWEAR!”

They all collectively scolded the Spanish driver — prompting him to laugh and raise his hands in surrender

“Ok. So my friend thought that the guy that she liked was starting to like her back. But not a week later, the guy that she liked was rumored to have a girlfriend. And he started to avoid my friend…. This was 3 months ago by the way.” You finally finished your story, and now you look at their reactions

Fernando, Lewis, Nico, and Valterri had all fallen into thinking.

“So how long is the guy and the new girl going out? And how does your friend feel” the quiet Finnish driver gently asked you.

“Oh, officially for a few weeks, I guess? My friend felt hurt of course. But it gets less painful overtime… uh she said that to me”

“Oh. That’s good for your friend, liefjie! By the sound of it she slowly moving on” Nico uttered, a sense of comfort rushed through you

“How is your friend now, Is she feeling ok?” Lewis asked empathically

“ She’s great, and you’re right Nico. She slowly moving on.”

“So what’s the problem muñequita?”

“Well, another person had asked her out and she feels guilty because she doesn’t want to use him to get over the guy she likes” you explained to the 4 older drivers.

“WHO ASKED YOU OUT !? Young lady tell us this instance!” You didn’t expect Lewis’ outbursts — you expect Nando to react that way, but not Lewis!

“It’s not me!!” You tried to bluff once more

“Y/N, we know it’s you” Nico explained with a smile, while you pouted as they all chuckled.

“OK FINE! It’s me” You utter as you gave up the act.

“So I assume the guy you were talking about was Max, right?” Valtteri asked, finally speaking.

“I’m very obvious aren’t I?” You said defeated, as you stood up from your seat and wedged yourself beside Nico.

“Everyone with a pair of eyes knew something was between you and Max, “ Nando said as Valterri nodded in agreement.

“Young lady, you haven’t answered my question. Who asked you? Is it another driver?” Suddenly you felt like you were on the hot seat — as all their eyes focused on you with eyebrows raised. It felt like you were being questioned by your dad.

“Uhmm yes, it’s another driver… it’s Lando” You said as you picked on your nails. A shy smile graces your face.

“ He finally had the balls to ask huh?” Nando snickered

“What?? You also knew?!” You asked flabbergasted. You surveyed the room and saw all of them snickering amongst themselves.

“He did ask for my permission, sort of… it was just jumbled words that didn’t make sense then” Lewis explained as he visibly got less tense.

“Lando asked permission from you?? What are you, my dad?” You asked amused, come to think of it Lewis was sort of a father figure to you. Being that he always supported and guided you ever since the start of your journey in Formula 1

“Well, you sticking around me like a toddler in your first year here doesn’t help, sweetie.” Lewis could only laugh at the memories of him taking care of you. Memories like Lewis driving you around, giving you food, telling you to talk to others.

“And what are you guys? My uncles?” You asked the 3 drivers, who only shrugged and nodded.

“Well, should I say yes to Lando then?” You asked dropping all pretense and just laying it all out

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Liefjie” Nico advised

“Yeah try something new, Dear. Max had his chance and he didn’t take it. So go have fun with Lando!” Fernando added, patting your hand.

You set your eyes on Valtteri — who only nodded his head with a smile.

“ You have our approval, and we’ll support your decision, sweetie! Do what will make you happy” Lewis said comfortingly

the.Y/N

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris , maxverstappen1, and 472,002 others

the.Y/N Apparently, @lewishamilton is my father?? I was only made notice now, ok I guess.

lewishamilton thank you for the flattering pictures , sweetie 🥲

the.Y/N oh no worries, pops! More to come I swear🤍

user1 Y/N please don’t dogshow the old man 😭

user2 HAHAHAHAAH I swear Y/N is a different breed

user3 Awwww! I always loved it when Lewis calls Y/N sweetie.

user4 The grid father and daughter pairing 🤍

landonorris Oh, You weren’t aware?

the.Y/N No, I was not :)) . I was made aware when someone asked for permission.

landonorris well glad to be of service

lewishamilton @landonorris get your act straight! I already approve

landonorris @lewishamilton will do my very best, sir. Thank you 🫡

the.Y/N I hate and love you both 😮‍💨

User1 Approve of what Sir Lewis?? Lando is approved for what??

mercedesamgf1 family photo with Roscoe when?

the.Y/N already have tons of it in the gallery 😛

You continued to scroll past your feed and Kelly’s post appeared …

kellypiquet

liked by maxvestappen1 and 638,073 others

kellypiquet Happiest when with you 💙

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maxverstappen1 💙

You knew that you shouldn’t feel jealousy or anger, but you couldn’t help but frown as you saw Max and Kelly acting all sweet. It still stung that you didn’t mean anything more to Max, all the memories you’ve made you’ve looked at rose-tinted, shattered.

So you strengthened your resolve and focused all your thoughts on your work. You then remembered that you had a date with Lando. You went back to your conversation a while ago

Then slowly, without noticing, a smile bloomed on your face at the thought of Lando Norris.

One date with Lando turned into two, two turned into three, then four and five.

the.Y/N

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, and 629,920 others

the.Y/N So much fun , laughs , and food 🧡 10/10 would do again!

charles_leclerc you aren’t sneaky with that orange heart y/n

the.y/n 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton stay safe and go home early ~ i’m watching you two.

the.Y/N hehehe will do, promise

User1 Ms. Y/N are you seeing someone 🧐

the.Y/N I dunno~ maybeeee

User2 ok! Im invested. Who is it @the.Y/N?? Please spill

User2 this is so Lando Norris coded I swear.

User 6 I know!! Golf and karting? Could they be more obvious. Ughh I ship it🧡

User3 you look sooooooo pretty Y/N!! who ever’s dating , I hope they could fight . 😤

liked by landonorris

User3 LANDO NORRIS LIKED MY COMMENT??? HELLO?!

User4 Lando????!!

You were progressively forgetting your feelings for the Dutch Red Bull Driver . How can you not? When Lando Norris had been showering you with so much love and affection.

Then finally, Lando asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes. You were ready to let someone else in your heart— and this time you were sure that there was someone to catch you when you fell.

your story close friends

viewed by landonorris , charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 , and 35 others

story replies

charles_leclerc I made this couple 💪 It was all MEEEE.

landonorris 🧡🤍 someones getting bolder ey?

maxverstappen1 haha i’ve been replaced as your bestfriend 😂

landonorris story

viewed by the.Y/N , charles_leclerc , carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 , and 5,628,926 others

the.Y/N And I was bold? Ok soft launch ~ Kudos mr. Norris! I won’t go down without a fight tho 🫡

charles_leclerc someones being braveee

carlossainz55 Landino! Are you and y/n ready to share to the world then?

The two of you kept everything on the low, yet you didn’t keep it a secret — only very select few knew. Lando and you wanted to enjoy what you two had to yourselves first. Everyone outside your circle thought that the two of you were just friends.

But that didn’t stop either of you from posting online.

Max saw your posts and the feeling of something clawing in his stomach resurfaced. He didn’t like it one bit. It has been 2 months ever since he found out that Lando held feelings for you. And it has been a month since the two of you properly spoke. And if he were honest to himself, Max missed your presence dearly.

Kelly didn’t have anything in common with him. And most of the time, he grew bored and he just wanted to crawl back to his sim and drive constantly.

Max missed talking about everything and nothing with you. He missed how you shared his interests and how the two of you explored every one of them. Max just missed… You.

The longer he stared at his phone screen, the deeper his anxiety rose. He didn’t like what he saw, not one bit. He needed to do something about it.

***

You are lounging in your Boyfriend’s condo, dressed in a hoodie that you stole from his dresser. Soft music played on the centralized sound system.

Lando was inside his streaming room live on Twitch, while you made your way into his kitchen and started to cook dinner for the two of you. Lando did love your cooking.

Then suddenly your phone rang and to your surprise it was Max calling. Without any further thought, you picked up the call.

“Hello, Y/N?” You heard Max’s voice on the line, the usual butterflies present in your stomach were now absent. You didn’t feel the bubbling sensation you used to feel when Max unexpectedly called.

Then suddenly, you heard Lando shout nonsense, probably at his best mate. A smile grazed your lips as you heard your boyfriend’s shout in the distance.

“Oh, hi Max! What’s up?” You asked curiously, balancing your phone on your shoulders as you took out the ingredients from the fridge.

“Where are you, right now? No one’s answering the front door” Max’s reply startled you. Why is he at your house all of a sudden?

“What? You’re in my house… uh why?” You asked, a tone of confusion present in your voice

“It’s Wednesday, Movie night remember” You were filled with even more perplexity for the Red Bull driver. The two of you haven’t talked one one-on-one for nearly a month, not even through chat. Movie nights with Max were long forgotten.

“Max…. We haven’t had movie night in 3 months.” You replied carefully.

“Uhm, we can start again?” You sensed the hopelessness in his voice.

“I’m sorry Max, I’m at Lando’s right now… and I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate it if we suddenly continued movie nights”

“You’re at Lando’s? Y/N its already la-”

“Max I think it’s best if we kept our distance… yeah?” You suddenly interjected, clearly stating your boundaries.

“What?! Why?” Max asked incredulously

“Max … you have a girlfriend! I don’t want to create any misunderstandings. And I don’t want Lando to have doubts … considering that I used to have feelings for you before. But we can still hang out … but in a group setting”

You didn’t mean to spill everything and tell Max of your past feelings for him, but you found yourself relieved of letting it out of your chest. Now you could truly say that you have moved on.

There was silence before Max had finally answered. “Oh… ok. I understand”

“Bye Max” At that you ended the call, leaving that part of your past behind.

The sound of the call ending echoed in Max’s head. The words you’ve said slowly dawned on him.

You liked him? Since when? Suddenly understanding and relief filled Max. He realized that he liked you more than just a sister. He didn’t look at you as just a friend. He suddenly understood the emotions that he was so afraid to explore before. What he felt for you was something so strong that it scared him. It wasn’t like what he felt when he was with Kelly, no. But with you, He felt vulnerable, He felt like everything was on the table because you understood him so well.

Then suddenly Max froze, as if cold water was dumped all over him. You said liked … past tensed. You didn’t like him anymore. Max was suddenly filled with dread, chest hurting as if tons of weight pressed on it.

He had his chances in making you his, and his alone. Max Verstappen maybe the fastest driver on the grid , but outside the track — he had failed to switch gears from making you from a friend to much much more. He had lost you and it was all his fault.

landonorris

liked by the.Y/N , mclaren, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc , and 1,639,829 others

landonorris the world should see the forever view of my camera lens. Love you , stranger 🧡

tagged @the.Y/N

the.Y/N I love you more, stranger🧡

taglist: @spookystitchery @bibissparkles @newlifeforus @steamy-smokey @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @charizznorizz @evesfile @j-lesca @gr1mes-cc @ironmaiden1313

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 imagine #red bull racing #mclaren #max verstappen #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #lewis hamilton #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando #lando x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #mv1 x y/n #mv1 fic #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #mv1 angst #lando imagine #lando norris #formula 1 fanfic

[literaila]

Hey, I don’t know what you make of love triangles but I’ve always wondered how Typical Family would look like if reader once had a “not so obvious” crush on Geto and the two almost looked like a couple except Geto only saw her as a friend and Satoru doesn’t actually start to “see” reader until he sees how broken up she is after Geto’s betrayal. Kind of looks like the thing between Sasuke/Sakura/Naruto (ahem Except Sakura takes the less toxic path). You don’t have to indulge in this nor does it have to be canon to your original story but I’m just curious 🌚

now i dont think satoru was ever jealous of suguru because 1. suguru is all-knowing and 2. suguru is a literal big brother to you and there is only platonic admiration there.

but. you know who satoru is jealous of? nanami kento.

okay, there’s really no arguing—the boy needs a haircut.

he also needs to stop letting you hang off of him, and taking you out to dinner (because you find his interest in food a bit bizarre, and funny), and making you laugh all of the goddamn time.

satoru may be the strongest, the prettiest—but he has the disadvantage of being older than you. it’s not often yaga sends the two of you somewhere together—or any of the first years with the seconds.

and it’s just not fair, okay?

the only reason you even train with satoru is because he’s the only person who can see your technique, the only one who has a fair fight.

in fact, the only reason satoru gets to hang out with you at all is because you like everyone else. your classmates like suguru and shoko—and tolerate satoru.

and maybe it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he sees you standing a little bit too close to nanami. maybe it makes him feel like his world could collapse—disappear—right in front of him.

he does not want to endure being subjected to your schoolgirl crush on a boy who can’t even be bothered to cut his hair. and what would you see in him anyway? are brown eyes preferable to his outer-worldly blue ones? is satoru’s hair just not yellow enough?

…is nanami your type?

all of this to say, it’s definitely not satoru’s fault that he just accidentally threw nanami across the courtyard.

it’s the boys fault, obviously, for daring you to wish him good luck, for saying something so funny before they began that his smug face is still so pleased from making you laugh.

it’s not satoru’s fault.

but he does realize his mistake when instead of aweing over him like he’d wanted—you rush to nanami.

satoru is standing there, a rare frown on his face, looking down at his hands like they’re going to give him some answers.

“are you taking your anger out on the first years, now?” suguru asks, dryly, looking over to where you’re checking nanami’s pupillary response.

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” satoru grumbles, feeling even more betrayed.

what does that kid offer than he can’t?

“you know you could just talk to her, right? you don’t need to beat nanami up to prove a point.”

“if he wasn’t so weak i wouldn’t have—“

and then you’re walking back to them, nanami’s arm slung over your back as you half carry him. his face is already puffing up. “where’s shoko?”

you give him a look with unbridled rage. satoru can already feel the scolding coming on.

“i think she had a meeting with yaga, or something,” satoru answers, giving you his best innocent look.

it does nothing.

suguru inspects nanami. “do you need help?”

“no,” you frown at the boy hanging on you and sigh. “i’m taking him to the infirmary. i don’t know where yu went, but if you see him will you tell him that we left?”

“sure.”

suguru nudges satoru. “uh, yeah. we’ll tell him.”

you nod sternly at them both. “thank you.”

and then you’re walking away, even closer to nanami than you were before.

satoru is already pouting. it doesn’t take much.

“you’re stupid, you know that?”

“he asked me to—!”

“he wanted to learn. not get a concussion for no reason.”

satoru waves a hand. “he wont even remember it tomorrow.”

suguru is smirking at him, looking like he knows something that satoru doesn’t. “because he has brain damage?”

“because shoko will heal him.”

suguru only shakes his head. “i’m going to find haibara. he probably got lost again.”

satoru nods but remains there, with his arms crossed.

seriously, nanami kento of all people?

*

meanwhile, you’re lugging kento up onto one of the tables in the infirmary, feeling like you should’ve forced gojo to carry him the whole way.

you would’ve—if the sight of him didn’t make you want to rip your hair out.

…for a multitude of reasons, of course.

“okay. you okay? how’s your head?”

“bruised.”

you snort, pushing his hair back so you can see the black eye that’s already developing. at least it won’t get the chance to turn purple, you think.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why gojo did that.”

kento laughs, leaning again away from your hand. you wonder if it’s his possible concussion, or if what you said was really all that funny.

you’ve only gotten him to laugh like… three times.

“you can tell him that i’m not interested in stealing you away.”

“gojo?”

he nods.

“why would i tell him that?”

nanami’s eyes closed. he looks like he’s aged years in the last hour. “are you naturally ignorant, or are you trying to distract me?”

you cross your arms. “what do you mean?”

“whatever’s going on between you and that white haired freak, just leave me out of it.”

“going on? there’s nothing going on. gojo is just an idiot—“

“seems like it’s spreading.”

“are you sure you’re okay, ken? i think you’re going crazy.”

nanami sighs. you can practically see his eyes rolling under his eyelids. “where’s shoko?”

you look around, biting your lip. “i don’t know… i thought she’d be here by now. i’ll go check the classrooms.”

he nods.

“don’t fall asleep, okay? i mean it.”

“just hurry.”

and you turn around the door, more questions running through your head than when you walked in.

*

satoru is still standing there, contemplating his life choices (of which there have been few) when you’re running back across the courtyard.

but you slow as you near him, your eyes filled with intent.

and maybe he was waiting for this.

“you asshole,” you say, hitting him on the shoulder—which he allows because any moment of you touching him is one that satoru wants to savor. “what were you thinking?”

he stands there, completely still, for just a moment more. you’re here now. with him. who’s with nanami then?

still, he shrugs. “i just forgot how weak he was.”

“oh, you forgot? you forgot that it was training and kento isn’t some special grade curse you—“

“is he dead?”

“what? why would you say that?”

“if he was really a special grade curse he’d already be dead.”

“you’re so arrogant,” you grind out, shaking your head at him. “and reckless! kento probably has a concussion.”

“then why aren’t you looking after him?”

“i—what?”

“why are you here yelling at me,” satoru gestures to himself, a grin forming on his face. “instead of making sure that he’s okay?”

“i—“ your mouth opens. then closes. “i went to go look for shoko and i didn’t think that you…” you shake your head again, frowning.

satoru just smiles at you.

he likes you a bit flushed and angry anyway.

“stop smiling at me like that!”

“what? i’m not allowed to smile now?”

“no. after today you’re not allowed to do anything. you’re lucky i’m such a good person or else you’d be six feet under—“

“you expect me to believe that you would actually kill me?”

“if i didn’t have a moral obligation, yes.”

satoru laughs.

“shut up,” you say, hitting him again. “i’m angry enough that i could do it.”

he shakes his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder. he has to make up for all of the time that nanami got to cling to you—has to repossess this, or he might go insane.

“that’s not why i’m laughing.”

“get off of me.”

“you wouldn’t kill me,” satoru whispers, right in your ear, delighting in a shiver that you can’t hold back. “even if you could. you like me too much to do it.”

you push him off of you, scowling. “i do not like you—“ you insist, only slightly breathless. “you just beat up my friend for no reason.”

“friend?”

you scoff, crossing your arms and looking up at satoru like he’s a demon sent straight from hell—just to torment you.

have you ever looked at nanami like that?

no, satoru thinks, you haven’t.

“yes, friend,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, “i know you’re unfamiliar with the concept but really. why is everyone acting so weird today?”

satoru’s grin is almost blinding. there’s no one else you get so worked up over. no one else who you would pause just to yell at.

“c’mon,” he says, instead of answering. he pushes himself back onto you, pulling you close by your waist. “i’ll look for shoko with you. you can tell me about how much you like me on the way.”

“gojo satoru, i will still murder you—“

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen

[lovrre]

Agreement Prt2

I wrote half of this to Need by pinegrove ♫

Art Donaldson x fem black reader

Prt1 here

Word count: 3k

Warnings: smuttt,unprotected sex, creampie,slight breeding kink if you squint. cursing (ofc) slightly domestic relationship (not with Art)and probably some other stuff.

Summary: Despite being engaged to one of the top and richest tennis players in the US, you feel unfulfilled. But everything changes when you transfer schools and meet Art Donaldson, who just can’t quit you.

Author note: I’m so glad I finished I was scared I wasn’t, but your comments gave gave me motivation. Thank you pookies 🫦 I like this one a lot more than the first one. Arts also very obsessed and in love in this one.

After twenty minutes, you finish your meal, alone. You decide to leave through a back exit to avoid the paparazzi waiting outside the hotel entrance. You stumble upon a narrow hallway and carefully make your way out, trying not to attract any attention. When you reach the entrance of the restaurant, you open the door and are greeted by a charming and seemingly empty establishment. The cozy yellow lighting, old pictures, and paintings on the walls, along with the white tablecloths and wooden woven chairs, remind you of an old Italian restaurant you and Art used to go to. You see moving in your peripheral and catch a glimpse of familiar golden locks.

You walk closer to see Art and Patrick sitting at a small square table with a vacant seat, you assume is reserved for you. Patrick with a full plate of food and Art without. "Patrick?" You question, your voice filled with suspicion as you creep towards the table. He looks back at the sound of your In voice, a smile forming on his face as he stands up, “What the hell are you doing here?” You ask, taken aback going in for a hug. Patrick returns it with a laugh before releasing from the hug slightly to look at Art.

“Ask him” You look between them confused. “I asked him to come here” Art states, adjusting in his seat. “Why?“ you ask clearly confused with the situation, “someone could see” you add your gripping the back of your chair almost afraid to sit down. “I bought the place out for an hour, it’s just us” Art reveals looking up at you. “You what?” you exclaim, a bit louder than you intended.

“I’ll explain everything in a minute, just sit” Art laughs, gesturing for you to sit down. You let out a sigh, reluctantly pulling out your chair. “Ok tell me what is going on” you say, slightly impatient. “We’ve got a plan for your marriage situation”, Patrick says, mixing his ice tea with his straw. “A plan?” you repeat, still confused. "Yes, a plan," Art confirms with a nod. Patrick takes a quick sip of his tea before opening a tan folder that he hadn't noticed before. “The private investigator dropped these off at the dorm the other day”, Patrick says, pushing the open folder towards you.

Inside were pictures of your fiancée , kissing all types of women. The worst part is, it was so obvious, he didn’t have a care in the world, every photo taken on different days in different settings. Outside, inside in the morning and at night, all different women.

You knew you shouldn't be upset, but you were, not because he was seeing other people behind your back, shit you were doing that same with Art, but it was the fact he acted holier than thou. That he continued to try and control you while actively putting your agreement at risk. “Wow…” you mutter.

Shuffling through the photos. “That’s not even all of them” Art says.

“Yeah… I accidentally left the other ones, but these are the most important ones. There’s also some paperwork underneath with names, time stamps and dates on stuff” Patrick ads. “How isn’t this everywhere?” You ask, furrowing your brow. “The investigator thinks he’s been paying them off,” Patrick says, taking a sip of his drink.

"Not that I don't want you here, but couldn't you just have faxed these over?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah... but then I'd miss the match," Patrick says with a grin, taking a bite of his food. "Plus, I would never miss an opportunity to help my best buds."

"Okay, so what are we doing with these?" you ask, holding up the pictures in confusion.

"We're going to spin it," Patrick replies, still chewing his food. "My plan," Art reminds him, "my bad," Patrick laughs, still chewing his food. You couldn’t help but smile, you’d missed the three of you together.

"We're going to spin it," Art repeats, making you smile wider. "Is this why you're training with my father?" you interject . Art nods in response. "Why didn't you tell me any of this last night?"

Art didn't say anything, a knowing smile spread across his face. Patrick looks between the two of you "freaks," he jokes, "Anyway... how do you plan on spinning it?" You ask, ignoring his comment.

“We lean into the infidelity, take a couple of photos of you crying, the two of you arguing, or something like that release them”, Art explains confidently.

“But… I don’t see how this stops us from getting married, it’ll just look like I got cheated on,” you say, scrunching your brow.

“We’re hoping this, plus me winning today, will be enough to persuade the media against him?”

“You believe you can win?”

“I do,” he nodded.

“Okay… I’m down.”

“Told you,” Patrick added, still drinking his tea.

“Are you especially thirsty or something today?” you ask, tilting your head slightly watching him slurp down his tea. A second one untouched, waiting for him.

“I am actually, thank you for noticing,” Patrick says with a big smile before taking another sip.
You notice Art's eyes drop to Patrick’s plate for a second time while you two are talking.

“You should eat.”

“What?” Patrick says, looking between the two of you who seemed to be having your own conversation. 

“No, I’m okay,” Art says, shaking his head.

“Mike had French toast for breakfast, I think you could have-“ you cut yourself off, looking down at Patrick’s plate. “Egg and sausage.”

“You guys aren’t talking about my food?” Patrick asks, slightly disturbed by your conversation.

“Patrick, I can buy you some more damn eggs,” you assure him as Art pulls the plate from under him.

“What just happened?” Patrick asked, looking around confused with no food in front of him.

Your phone rings, and you look down to see who it is. “It’s my Dad,” you inform, excusing yourself you answering the phone as you walk out of earshot.

The two of them watch your backside as you walk away. “She still looks good”, Patrick bites his lip, leaning over to Art.


“Careful, ” Art warns.


“What? you guys can joke about but I can’t?”


“Exactly”, Art laughs, plucking him on the head.

~~~~

With a dig, the elevator door opens, releasing you to your floor. You walk to your room, opening the door with your key card. Mike is packing stuff away in his duffle bag, getting ready to see your father. You don’t acknowledge him walking past him into the bedroom,leaving the door open. You sit on the edge of the bed carefully taking off your heals, you stand up and unzip the back of your dress with ease. The dress gracefully falls into a pile at your feet leaving you in only your underwear. You step over your dress and begin looking through your suitcase located in the closet. The sound of footsteps causes you to look up to see Mike in the doorway watching you.


“Where are you going?” Mike asked, leaning on the door frame slightly. You don’t answer right away looking for your dress under your neatly folded clothes. “There’s a press meeting with Art Donaldson's team, My Dad thought it’d look good if I’d came ” you say, moving more clothes around. “You didn’t come to mine” Mike states still watching you search.

“You didn’t ask me to” you responded, pulling out a light pink dress from your suitcase. There’s a beat of silence as Mike watches your actions "and you need to change for this press meeting?” Mike asks, raising an eyebrow. "No, but I want to” you say, standing up. When you see mike's eyes roaming up and down your body, you suddenly remembered you were only in your underwear. 


“Can you turn around or something” you ask, scrunching your face up in disgust. “I’ve seen more than this” Mike chuckles before obliging and turning around. You roll your eyes by stepping into your dress. “I’m sorry for how I acted this morning, I’m just stressed,” he admits.

" Really?," you hum, pulling up the straps of your dress.

"I don't want to be that guy," Mike responds, still facing away.

"But you are constantly being that guy..." you mumble, but Mike hears you. 

"I won't anymore. I want this marriage to work y/n, I.”


You release a heavy sigh at his word. “You can turn around now ” You announce zipping up the side of your dress. Mike turns around and watches as you sit back on the edge of the bed putting on your heels. “You’re still going to that thing?” Mike asks with a confused expression. “What about that conversation gave off the vibe that I was no longer going?” You say pulling your stiletto over your heel.


Mike goes silently for a moment watching you walk toward the bathroom. “Like you need more makeup?” Mike scoffs. “Be honest with me are you fucking him?” He asks from behind you in the doorway while you remove a bit of smudged lipstick. “are you serious right now?” You ask staring at him through the reflection in the mirror. “I’m not a fucking idiot, I saw the way you looked at each other, and I get the feeling that’s wasn’t your first time meeting” 


“Only god knows what you’re doing at that college” you can’t stop your self from laughing. “I think you’re projecting” you say walking past him towards the door, picking up your purse on the way. “Where the fuck are you going?” Mike calls out, following you. 

You swing the door open and step out into the hallway. Mike trails behind and tries to grab your arm to pull you back inside. “DONT TOUCH ME!” You yell yanking your arm back. “C’mon Don’t make a scene” Mike says looking around. 


“You have some fucking nerve, you know that? Your friend Isabel came up here earlier looking for you, I’m guessing you guys have a lot of fun In Detroit” you say with a smile. “When were you in Detroit again…my birthday? You ask rhetorically, Mike goes silent for a moment before responding.
 "I don't know what you're talking about," he says, trying to keep his voice down. "You don't?" you question. "What about Sarah, Kim, Kate, Alex? Do you not know them either?" Mike opens his mouth, then closes it. "Yeah…" you drawl, 


"they meant nothing to me... I just needed to get it out of my system before fully committing. I want this to work, I want this to be real, y/n," Mike says, trying to corner against the door in a situation similar to the one you were in with Art last night.

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," you respond, attempting to push past him. He grabs you again using his strength. You had forgotten how strong he actually was. “Last warning” you say looking up at Mike. he can tell by the look in your eyes you’re serious, he doesn’t know exactly what you’re going to do but something in his gut said don’t test it. “Let. Go” you repeat one more time before a voice interrupts you.

“Is everything ok?” Patrick asked from the end of the hallway. "Yeah, everything's fine," Mike reassured with a smile, gently releasing his grip on him. "We'll continue this conversation later," Mike says, forcing a tight-lipped smile as he presses the elevator button. "No, we won't," you smile back with a wave, as the elevator door chimes and he leaves. "Are you okay?" Patrick asks, walking up to you. "Yeah, he wasn’t going to hit me, he knows better," you laugh. "I was actually more concerned about you hitting him," Patrick jokes.

“I got the picture though” he smiles, showing you a camera and clicking through the images of your altercation with Mike.”These are good, you should take them now, I’ll call Art and tell him I’m on the way” you say, pulling out your phone.

“I’ll miss the game” Patrick states with a slight pout.

“Not if you hurry.”

~~~~~

"I won't keep you much longer, just a few more questions," the female interviewer says, holding the microphone up to Art. "Was the training for this upcoming match particularly challenging?" Before the interviewer could finish her sentence, Art was shaking his head. "Not necessarily, different for sure, but not harder."

"As of now, can you confirm or deny the rumor that you have started working with Olympic Coach Dylan Y\L\N?" the interviewer asked, lifting the mic slightly closer to his mouth. "Ummm," Art hesitates, accompanied by a smile. "I think I can. Yes, Dylan is my new coach."

"So you and your opponent today have trained under the same coach?" the interviewer asks, scrunching her brow. "Yes, we have," Art nods. "One more question, is there any special woman in Art Donaldson's life right now?" the interviewer asks with a smile. The sound of camera clicking intensifies, catching Art's attention. Intrigued, the interviewer turns around as well. "She is beautiful," Art says absentmindedly, staring in the direction where you're coming from. You give small waves to friends as you walk in. "That's your opponent's fiancé... and I guess also your trainer's daughter?" the interviewer says, looking confused and turning back to face Art.

"Really?" Art asks, faking shock with a dazed expression. "Yes," the interviewer nods. "I mean.. I meant what I said, She is beautiful," Art said with a laugh, causing the interviewer to join in. His eyes never leaving you. "Does your coach know you have a crush on his daughter?" the interviewer joked, chuckling. "He might now," Art says with a laugh before giving a quiet , "Nice meeting you," as he walks away out of frame.

A short while later, you find yourself reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby table, inserting one of those adorable green straws they had. Just as you're about to take a sip, a voice catches you off guard from behind. "There you are," Art says, a smile lighting up his face as he jogs towards you. As he approaches, you can't help but notice how close he gets, almost too close.

"You're not exactly great at keeping secrets, huh?" you chuckle, taking a step back. Art smirks, "Can't two friends have a conversation?" Peeking over your shoulder at the ongoing interviews, you reply with a straw in your mouth, "We're not even supposed to be friends. You're supposed to be my Dad's client, or from what I heard your crush." You laugh, recalling a question from one of the interviewers. "You're going to get us caught," you whisper quietly into the straw.

"I understand. I can't stand next to my trainer's daughter," Art nods, "Orrr, my opponents, fiancé, but maybe can I stand close to my crush?" Art asks.

 “I think you could, yeah” you nod trying to keep the smile on your face. “Crush it is,” Art says with a smile taking a step forward, yet still maintaining a slight distance. “Did you get the pictures?” Art asks his eyes falling down to your lips. “Yeah, we got them," you confirm with a nod, unable to hide your smile when you notice his lingering gaze. “So we’re in the clear?” his eyes still fixated on your lips, as if he's ready to pounce. "Not yet," you laugh, taking a step back. "We have to wait for them to go to press." Art throws his head back with a strained laugh, and you can't help but watch his Adam's apple bobs up and down. You hadn’t realized until that moment how much you wanted him, it was an all consuming need.

“Just one day," you murmur, unsure if you're speaking to Art or yourself. "Just one day," Art echoes, his eyes now fixed on your neck, his finger brushing your curls away. You watch as he exhales shakily, looking at the fading hickeys on your shoulder, barely hidden by makeup. "Just one day," you remind, removing his hand from your chest. "Just one day," Art repeats, tearing his gaze away to look back up at you. "Your car is here, Mr. Donaldson," a man in black approaches and announces.

“One minute” Art says, gesturing for another second. The man nods in acknowledgment and walks away. “Come with me?” Art asked. “I don’t think that’ll look good.” You alluded to the countless people with cameras surrounding you.

“I couldn’t care less” Art says, shaking his head slightly. “I’d kiss you right here, if you’d let me ” Arts words catch you off guard, and you take a deep breath to try to steady your heart beat. 

“This planning stuff is more for you than me, so you can feel more comfortable. And I’m perfectly fine doing it,’s just …” he trails of his eyes falling back down to your lip. "Alright, I'll come," you rush out, convincing yourself it's to prevent him from kissing you right then. But deep down you knew you just wanted to be near him. You follow closely behind.

Art swiftly enters the car before you lean up, capturing you with a kiss. Before you could even fully step inside, his hand gently grasped your cheek, drawing you closer to his lips as he guided you into the vehicle. Lost in the intensity of the moment, you surrender to the kiss. practically falling inside. The sound of the car door closing behind you brings you back to reality, but the kiss continues to deepen. Suddenly, the driver rolls up the partition, creating a sense of privacy.

A sense of responsibility tugs at you, and you reluctantly break the kiss when Art's hand starts to wander up your bare leg. "We can't," you whisper, "We don't even have a condom," you add, hoping the driver couldn’t overhear.


“You’re right” Art mumbles, sitting back against the seat trying to catch his breath. “ I lost myself for a second” Art laughs, attempting to slow his heartbreak. ”After the game I’ll come to your room” you nod, looking forward trying to gather yourself. “Don’t talk about that, talk about something else” Art says his voice coming out more strained. “Like what?” You turn around and ask. Your eyes landing on the strained erection in his pants. “Oh!” You say, snapping your head back forward. The familiar ache of your core comes back, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to control yourself.


Against your better judgment, you take another peak. His hard shaft still straining against the fabric, you could damn near see the veins on his dick. “Can I?” You ask in a voice barely above a whisper. “Y-yeah” Art replies with a nod agjusting in his seat. You rub your hand back and forth against the Arts bulge while listen as his breath becomes more and more ragged.


Art makes a low moan and that’s enough for you to begin unzipping his pants. Against his better judgment he stops you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah” you nod breathlessly, fumbling with his pants, pulling them down until his dick springs free. When you begin pumping his shaft, he takes in a sharp breath which causes you to smile. You savor the feeling of his heavy dick in your hand, trying to combat the thoughts of his thick long length inside you. When Art's hips buck into your hand, you fold. “I need you inside of me”, Art opens his mouth to protest and then closes, watching as you bunch up your dress around your waist, pull your panties to the side and straddle him. He grabs your waist with one hand and lines himself up with your entrance with the other. 


You sink onto him with a little too loudly of a moan and Art does the same. Opening his mouth for a sloppy kiss, he doesn’t wait for you to adjust to his size, moving you up and down his dick by your waist. ”shit I-“ Art groans out a wave of pleasure hitting him.
“-I can’t go back to condoms” he moaned, scrunching his brow in pleasure. You laugh and Art quickly retaliates by slamming you hard down on him. You let out a loud moan reflexively using your hand, trying to pull off slightly.

Art moves your hand out of the way, holding you down on him by your waist. “I’m serious”, Art grows leaning forward for another kiss while returning to his previous, rhythm. His words cause you to squeeze around him, and he lets out another low ground throwing his head back, breaking the kiss.



“I’m not going to last much longer” Art says breathlessly. “Just a little longer baby” you coo, leaving kisses on his Adam’s apple down his neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that” you moan feeling his pace fastest. “I do?” you feel Art smile against your cheek. You nod, falling into the crook of his neck enjoying the feeling of him fucking into you. “I want you to cum in me” you whisper, kissing the crook of his neck. “Fuck” Art groans, throwing his head back again. “You’re going to kill me” he states with a strained laugh.


You feel your release building so you decide to taunt him. ”you don’t want to fill me up?” You ask innocently, removing your head from the crook of his shoulder. Look down at him with lust, filled eyes. “Don’t” Art warns, his grip on your waist tightening, “you don’t want to give me a baby?” You huff out trying to keep your voice steady literally feeling him in your stomach. “Fuc- shit shit shitttt” Art moans holding you down onto him filling you up with his cum. His moans echoed through the car, the poor driver. 


“Fuck,” Art states after a minute. “Yea fuck,” you laugh, leaving a kiss on his cheek. “I think I might have a breeding kink”. Art laughs, “Me too,” you say with a smile, leaving another kiss on his head. You feel him twitch inside you, and knowing Art, you knew he would be ready for round two in a minute. You try to get off, but he holds you tighter, keeping you stationary. 

“I want it to stick” he smiles. Oh his smile, you rolled your eyes. You loved him, you knew it now, and you had a feeling he did too. You had been lying to yourself pretending you liked you didn’t care as much as he did. But at that moment you knew you never wanted anyone but him.



You glance out the window to see you were seconds away from the stadium, and then you notice your father standing on the sidewalk. “Oh my god! MY DAD HERE” you say, scurrying out of Art's lap. Art looks out the window, seeing your father standing on the sidewalk expectingly. “Shit” Art huffs, sitting up slightly, pulling up his pants, you take a wet rag next to the champagne and quickly wipe the inside of your leg. You quickly fix yourself before rushing to wipe off any remains of your lipstick off his mouth with your hand.

"Oh no, do I have lipstick on my mouth?" you ask frantically. "Nope, all clear," Art replies with a grin, planting a quick kiss on your lips. "Art," you warn, settling back in your seat. "My bad," Art chuckles, getting ready to exit the car. The car come to stop and your dad Yanks open the door.

"Hurry up, we're late. Mike's already inside," your Dad urges, When he sees you, his expression turns puzzled.

"We were heading in the same direction, so we decided to ride together," you explain before he can say anything. Your dad eyed you both suspiciously. "Alright, let's go," he says, ushering Art into the building. You wanted to say goodbye or wish him luck, and you could sense Art wanted to as well but it would be just too obvious.

You step out of the car, rummaging through your wallet. You tap on the driver's window, and he rolls it down. "Sorry about that," you apologize, handing him a 100 dollar bill before heading into the building.

Once inside the stadium you sit next to your Dad’s team which was now also partially Arts team and somehow also Mikes. Your phone buzzes and look down to see a familiar unsaved number.

“I think your Dad on to us”

“What did he say?” you text back anxiously your fingers moving fast on the keys.

“Nothing really, but i think he knows”

“Did he seem mad?”

“Not really”

“That’s good” you send, letting out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

“Good luck :)” you add before stuffing your phone in your purse . Almost immediately your phone dings and you pull it back out.

“You gave me enough of that in the car ; )” you can’t help but smile at his corniness.

“You’re nasty.”

“Not as nasty as you” you’re about to laugh at his message when you hear a voice directly behind you. “You guys are actually freaks” Patrick says with a laugh jumping over the seat so he was directly next to you. “I applaud you guys for staying consistent at least” Patrick says lightly hitting you on the shoulder. “Can you mind your business” you say rolling your eyes, stuffing your phone in your purse.

“Actually I’ve been minding you two’s business all day with no pay by the way” Patrick adds. “So I think I’ve earned the right to be a little nosy” Patrick says making a pinching gesture.

“So you delivered the pictures?”

“Yes” he responded with a nod

“Thank you” you express your appreciation, turning your attention back to the court.

“Do you think he’s gonna win” Patrick asks leaning in slightly, curious to your answer.

"I hope so, but I don't know. I haven't seen him play in a while," you admit with a weak smile, the reality of the situation sinking in. "I really hope he does win," you mumble.

Author note : GUYS FEEL FREE TO COMMENT I LOVE READING COMMENTS

#black reader #art donaldson x black reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson #challengers fanfic #challengers #Art Donaldson breeding #patrick zweig #Spotify #challengers fic #mike faist #mike faist smut #art donaldson x female reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson fic

[solarmorrigan]

space au neighbor au steddie

So I wasn't actually sure what a space AU is meant to entail, so I hope a little vaguely Star Trek-inspired AU is okay?? This was a challenging combination, but it was fun!

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 22. Space AU + 11. Neighbor AU

cw: vague mentions of injury, mentions of background character death

-

Lieutenant Steven Harrington transfers from the U.S.S. Nora and onto the U.S.S. Forrest about six months into the Forrest’s mission. He works in security. He can usually be found stationed somewhere on the ship, but sometimes he’s called up to go planetside.

(He’s also too pretty for Eddie to believe he’s one hundred percent human, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Eddie knows all of this because Harrington gets the previously vacant room right next door to his.

It isn’t bad, really; sometimes the sound of someone shuffling around on the other side of a wall that had previously been silent is comforting. Much as Eddie loves the hum of the ship around him—you can’t really work in engineering and not be a little enamored of the sound of the engines purring—sometimes human noise is what he craves.

(Particularly out here in the void of space. Eddie loves his job, loves working in the guts of a starship, but he wishes sometimes it didn’t come against the backdrop of an endless dark nothingness.)

Eddie doesn’t have reason to see Harrington very often during the day, but they work the same shift rotation, and they catch each other coming back to their rooms now and then at the end of a shift. They mostly exchange nods or waves, brief pleasantries if one of them is in the mood, but that’s really it.

At least, that’s really it until a few weeks in, when Eddie gets back to his room and sees Harrington still standing outside his own, mashing the buttons on the keypad and swearing quietly.

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks as he draws up at his own door.

Harrington lets out a long sigh. “Uh, yeah, just–” He shakes his head. “Apparently if you get your code wrong too many times in a row, the keypad locks you out. And you can’t get into your quarters. Which is… great.”

“You forget your code?” Eddie can’t help but ask.

“No,” Harrington snaps, then softens a little, looking sheepish, even a little embarrassed. “No, I just– sometimes the numbers get a little jumbled.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m gonna have to go find someone from maintenance to reset this and let me in, so…”

“Nah, don’t bother. You’ve got in-built tech support right here.” Eddie gestures for Harrington to move aside and crouches down in front of the keypad to reset it; doors and security locks aren’t technically his remit, but it’s not like they’re hard. It’s the work of moments to get the keypad to unlock, and Eddie shuffles back out of the way. “Go ahead and try it now.”

Harrington steps up to the keypad and slowly punches in the six-digit code that should get him into his quarters, and this time, instead of beeping angrily and flashing red, it chirps and gives him the green light. His door slides open and Harrington sighs.

“Thank you,” Harrington says, turning a smile so bright on Eddie that he momentarily forgets how to function. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah, t’weren’t nothin’,” Eddie says for some insane reason, slipping into a ridiculous accent like he does when he’s running tabletop games in the rec room with a couple of other guys from engineering.

If Harrington thinks he’s being weird, he mercifully doesn’t mention it. Instead, he sticks a hand out towards Eddie, still smiling. “I’m Steve, by the way. I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, taking the hand to shake (Steve’s hands are big, and strong, and warm, and Eddie tries not to think about it).

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. And not even for the obvious reasons,” Steve says, nodding towards his door.

“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says.

He then realizes that he’s still shaking Steve’s hand. He lets go, but Steve is slow to draw back. They’re quiet for a moment, both unsure how to end the encounter, before Steve lets out a little huff of a laugh.

“Well… have a good night,” he says, backing away towards his door.

“Yeah, you too,” Eddie says again, wondering where the hell all his eloquence has gone to.

With one last dorky little wave at Eddie, Steve disappears inside his room, and Eddie does the same.

They talk more, after that. Whenever their schedules coincide, they spend an extra few minutes outside their doors, learning more about each other, bit by bit. Eddie talks about why he’d joined up with a starship even though he really hates space (he’d had to get out of his small-minded hometown), and Steve talks about how he’d ended up really enjoying his work even though he’d only joined to appease his dad (captain of another ship, one Steve prays he’ll never, ever be assigned to).

Their conversations edge past five minutes, past ten, past fifteen. Eddie talks about his uncle, who taught him at least half of everything he knows about fixing things, who had encouraged him to reach for the stars. Steve talks about his best friend in the galaxy, who works up in communications and speaks “about a million languages.” He mentions that they’d met as ensigns, both stationed on the U.S.S. Butterscotch, but he doesn’t say much more than that (and Eddie won’t make him; he knows the story already. The ship might have had a ridiculous name, but the fate that had befallen it had been anything but: it had been taken over by hostiles and eventually gone down in flames. The number of survivors had been abysmal, and fact that Steve is here at all is a small miracle).

Steve learns that Eddie loves music and roleplaying games. Eddie learns that Steve has a knack for avoiding medical staff after altercations planetside and for brushing off minor-to-moderate injuries.

He’s not as good at avoiding Eddie, however, who makes a point of dragging him down to medical one evening after spotting a still-bleeding gash on Steve’s arm.

“One of these days, you’re gonna come back with something you can’t walk off,” Eddie warns him, “and I’ll be there to say I told you so.”

“Well, as long as you’re going to be there, I guess it won’t be so bad,” Steve replies, and Eddie tries not to be swayed by the flirting.

When Eddie turns out to be right, though, he doesn’t even have the heart to say I-told-you-so, which he feels a bit cheated about later.

The evening starts out so promisingly: Steve and Eddie are loitering outside their doors, Steve gravitating further and further into Eddie’s space as they talk, and Eddie is just about to pluck up the nerve to invite Steve inside when Steve’s communicator goes off.

He frowns, pulling it from his pocket to check the message, and his demeanor immediately turns serious. “I have to go,” he says, and apprehension prickles at the base of Eddie’s skull.

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Steve offers Eddie a brief smile. “We can pick up where we left off as soon as this is taken care of.”

Eddie wants to ask just what “this” is, but he finds out soon enough. The promising evening turns into a hellish night with too little sleep and too many hits to the machinery for comfort, under attack from some unknown, hostile force. When things finally calm down and reports start rolling in, things aren’t as bad as they could be. No casualties, minor damage to the ship, and minimal injuries. It sounds reassuring, until Eddie finds himself standing next to Steve’s bed in the infirmary.

“I’m going to be fine. Stop looking at me like that,” Steve says, even though his eyes are closed and he can’t possibly know how Eddie is looking at him.

And the thing is, Eddie knows he’s right – Steve might sound an awful lot like he’s in pain right now, but the medical tech on the ship is top of the line, and the staff is equally good. Steve will be fine, but that doesn’t give Eddie any comfort right then, realizing how lost he would feel without his and Steve’s hallway conversations every day.

How lost he would feel without Steve.

It scares him– for a moment, it scares him enough that he wants to run from it, to put a halt to things before they get too serious, before this really hurts him. But even more than that, there’s a feeling greater than the fear: one of rightness when he’s with Steve, a feeling that’s worth the risk, that’s worth holding onto.

Eddie reaches out and takes Steve’s hand where it rests on the bed.

Steve cracks his eyes open to look at Eddie.

“You know…” he says slowly. “They said I should be fine on my own by tomorrow, good to go back to my own quarters, but– I’d feel a lot better if there was someone nearby. Just in case.”

“Like someone right next door?” Eddie asks, a tease of a smile beginning to grow on his face.

“Maybe a little closer than that,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand in his own.

“I think I can do that,” Eddie says, finding that he’s prepared to do a lot of things, if it means he can keep Steve close.

#tea42 #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddiesteve #stranger things #you don't need to know star trek at all for this #this is like knock-off star trek. store brand star trek #it's there so that steddie can be gay and awkward in space #solar wrote #answers from solar

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ꒱ 김동현

summary : you and your boyfriend were truly opposites, but the saying has always been that they attract, hasn’t it?

genre : fluff, leehan x afab!reader, college!au, slice of life tws : language, zombies (yeah..), pet names, mentions of not eating (could be linked to a eating disorder but also idrk) author notes : cringe couple alert (that should be me) word count : 1.4k

your hands were covered in clay, grey-brown coating your skin. you could feel the uncomfortable, but familiar feeling of it drying on your wrists, and you were glad you wore something you were okay with getting messy; because today you had done so many pieces, you were covered in muck.

you had just finished a vase, the bottom a thick sphere, tapering off as it furthered to the top. you spread the wire, after picking it up from beside you, and ran it along the stone. you picked it up carefully, grabbing the damp sponge to smooth out any finger prints.

pottery was your hobby, and you were glad you majored in art. you loved doing pieces on the wheel, and you loved sculpting unconventional things. it never felt like homework to do, and you often found yourself forgetting all about time and spending hours in the schools basement; dusty and dirty, haired tied back, back and shoulders sore, and sweats caked over.

that being said, you also often forgot to have meals as collateral to your happiness, spend time with your friends, and do things that people would deem normal. you hated the saying that you weren’t like other girls but truthfully you’d rather be in this dimly lit room than a club, like the people your age were.

but there was also one person who refused to let you starve to death in this poorly decorated room. and truthfully, he hated the flashing lights just as much, if not more than you did.

“y/n,” you looked up, a smile plastering to your features at the sight of your boyfriend who had been doing work on his computer waiting for you to finish for the last however long, “you’re done?” you nodded, moving the piece to the side, preparing to take it over by your others waiting to get glazed and fired. “it’s pretty.”

“i was thinking about painting little fishes on it and putting it inside our apartment after it gets graded, what do you think?”

“only if you eat first.” he stated, making you laugh in response, “going to die in this ugly place one day, y/n. i swear i’m going to find your body, and that wheel’s still going to be spinning.”

you walked over to the sink, opting to listen as you felt your stomach growl at the thought of eating something for, maybe, the second time today.

“my girlfriend would be a zombie, oh my god, an artsy zombie. wait, what does that even mean?”

you tried your best to scrape the clay from under your nails, however you both were used to finding it in weird places — laughing about it like it was an inside joke.

“actually, i think you might be hot like that. imagine all the rotting skin — you’d never have to do skincare ever again because it’d be falling off all the time — messy hair, but i think you’d hate this being your forever ghost outfit.”

you made a grossed-out face at his obvious jokes; however if he had said this to, or around, anyone else, it would’ve seemed genuine due to his monotone nature and straight face.

“you’re so strange, donghyun. if zombies were your type, i could’ve done my makeup differently.” you pinched his cheek with wet fingers, “but i love you anyways… even if you wouldn’t make a hot zombie.”

“what?” he exclaimed, “no way you think this!”

you were taken aback, “i didn’t know you were so serious about us being zombies… we could be a silly-little zombie couple if you want.” you giggled.

he scoffed, “how romantic, y/n. truly,”

“shut up.” you stuck your tongue out at him, “what’d you bring today?”

he took out a glass container; because he refused the plastic ones, saying something about the consumption of microplastics and fish long before you two had even entertained the idea of being in a relationship, to which you replied save the turtles and thrusted your fist in the air.

“leftovers from last night.” he stated, uncovering the pizza you two had shared over a couple episodes of game of thrones. you were late to the hype, but you liked the show nonetheless. he had fallen asleep on top of you after your hand had made its way into his shaggy hair, half an episode in, small snores echoing against the drama.

you two woke up on the couch in the morning.

“do you want me to heat yours up?” you questioned, motioning to the microwave that was probably older than either of you. “you know i’d rather have it cold as leftovers… but if you want me t —”

he took a bite, focusing back on his laptop, “don’t worry about it, love.”

you, too, took a bite, “what are you even working on?” you asked curiously, looking over his shoulder.

his face was inches from yours when he turned, “can you chew any louder in my ear?” you scoffed, pushing his head lightly to the side, and mocking an obnoxiously loud chew at him. it was probably the least sexy thing you could do. he laughed, “it’s my research final. twelve pages. i’m writing about aquaculture and its impacts on the environment — did you know that they’re actually bigger than agriculture? not that either are greatly sustainable.”

you admired how different you two were, but you loved listening to him go on and on (and on) about the ocean and fish, even if you had no idea what anything truly meant. he really did suit being a marine biology major in your eyes. his enthusiasm was your enthusiasm.

you did love his little fishtank though. and despite him denying it, you knew he loved that you named them all.

“my final is much better than yours,” you laughed, watching his eyebrows furrow behind his glasses, “all i have to do is make a couple pots — which we’re gonna use for our herb garden after! our green onions and garlic are getting so big!” you cooed, “i was thinking about using their old pots for our basil and rosemary plants, do you think that they would work?”

he took his last bite, using both hands to type now, “i think that would be fine, love.”

“and we can use our new vase as our table centerpiece? your mom’s going to come over for dinner soon, i think she’d like it — maybe i’ll make her one.”

he knew that once you put your mind to it, there was no stopping you, “i’ll get you some pretty flowers for both of them.” he was just glad that you had eaten something before the idea popped into your head.

you pondered, “what’s her favorite color, baby? do you think i should make her a couple mugs or a vase? or a cutesy little plate collection? or a pot? fuck it, i’ll just do them all, she has a gar —”

“y/n,” he cut your ramble off, “you’ve already made her a cutesy plate collection for christmas, and a mug for mother’s day, and a couple pots last semester.”

you pouted, “but those plates are deco —”

“make her the vase, love. her favorite color is purple.” he smiled sweetly, “i’ll help you paint it after you’re done turning it. we can give it to her as a slightly-early birthday present when she comes over, yeah?”

“we’ll get her calla lilly’s, right?” you pleaded.

his hand rested against your cheek, taking a break from the keyboard, “yes, and you can tell me all about the meaning while we stand in line.”

you grabbed his wrist, “great… now c’mon!” he eyed you as you pulled him up with you, “you made me watch that fish documentary with you the other day, so i’m going to show you how to make this vase now.”

“baby, i have three pages left,” he tried to compromise, but you blocked it out, “i’ll just help you paint it.”

“no,” you whined, which he found more adorable than annoying, “she’d love it so much more if you helped me spin it, don’t you think?”

he knew that there was no use arguing with you — after all if this whole art-thing didn’t work out, law had always been your alternative.

“fine,” he gave in, sitting down on the stool as you happily skipped over to grab him an apron and collect an adamant amount of clay, “but if i find clay inside my keyboard after this, you’re in for it.”

“terrified. so scared. i’m shaking in my boots, donghyun.” you shuddered playfully, “i guess you’ll actually get what you want if that happens — a zombie girlfriend — luckily for you, this zombie girlfriend of yours has a toothpick and a lot of love for her living boyfriend.”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

#kpop #kpop requests #kpop writing #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpopidol #kpop bg #romance #bnd x reader #bnd fluff #bnd imagines #bnd #bnd leehan #bonedo #boynextdoor #leehan #kim donghyun #boynextdoor leehan #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor donghyun #bnd fic #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor fanfic #bnd fanfic #kpop fluff #kpop x reader #kpop boys #kpop drabbles

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Why do you keep laughing? - Azriel x reader

Summary: you got drunk at Rita's and ask Az to come get you, so he takes care of you, leading up to you being desperate for your mate.

A/N: I wrote something like this for Lucien, and I loved it so I decided to write this for some other characters too :) I think I'm gonna do some good old angst for Az next (but with a happy ending), you can send me ideas if you want to xx

Warnings: suggestiveness, drunk reader

“Azzie!” you screech, running into Azriel’s arms when you finally realize he's walking through the front door of Rita’s. Az’s suspicions were right, you were indeed very drunk. Luckily, you called him through your bond to pick you up. “What are you doing here?! I didn’t expect you” you blush shyly like he hadn’t been your mate for the last 50 years.

So that makes your excitement clear, you didn’t remember calling him. “You called me to pick you up baby” he explains, stroking your back slowly. Az startles when you let out a sudden scream. “Ah! I love this song! Please come dance with me” you squeal, not waiting for his answer, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him with you on the dance floor. It was obvious you were way to drunk to properly dance, but with him holding you it wasn’t that bad. You started moving together, both smiling broadly. Azriel couldn’t help but melt when he saw the look of pure joy on your face, happily moving around.

He got even more excited when you turned around and started to rub your ass against him, slowly but sloppily grinding against him. You pulled your arms around his neck behind you. His shadows were dancing around you too, twisting around your legs and your stomach, trying to pull you even closer to him. You've always loved dancing like this with him and Az was sure he loved it even more.

He grabs your hand and turns your front into him again. You cry out a shout of happiness as you let him spin you around, but Azriel knew the move was a mistake when he saw your expression, your smile gone and a weary look on your face. “You okay baby?” he asks concerned. “Little nauseous” you breathe out. “Wanna go home baby?” he proposes. You nodded. “Do you wanna winnow with the nausea or do you want me to fly you?” “I’ll try to not throw up when you fly” you sigh.

While you’re flying home, your face is comfortably placed in his neck. “Hmm” you hum into the warm and soft skin. “I l-love you, and I loved d-dancing with you” you stuttered drunkenly. “I love you too baby” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your head. 

When you get home he gently places you on your bed, pressing a kiss on your flushed cheek. “You take such good care of me baby, my sweet Illyrian boy“ you whine lazily, grabbing his cheeks between your fingers. Az can’t help but get flustered. “C’mon, let’s get you some sleeping clothes” he says while lovingly rubbing his thumb over you cheek. “You’re sooo sweet, I have a little secret... I wanna- I wanna date you” you mumble shyly. Azriel leans his head back and barks out a loud laugh, making you look very confused and hurt. “Why are you laughing, it’s not funny” you whine, tears forming in your eyes and lower lip trembling.

“You are my mate y/n, we’re married” he laughs. “Oh my god, that’s amazing Az, I always wanted to be your mate” you squeal, pulling him in for a big hug with such forse he falls into the bed with you. “I’m so happy” you sigh in his ear, your eyes teary. Your happiness makes his heart pound in his chest. With him laying on top of you, your face pushed in his neck, it seemed like his smell suddenly made you feral.

You started placing kisses over his neck. “Please Azzie, wanna ruin you” you try, but he only laughs, even though he can’t help but blush a little because of your words and the kisses. “Why d-do you keep laughing, I’m s-serious, you look soooo good in those Illyrian leathers baby” you stutter annoyed. “Your drunk baby” he objects. “Doesn’t matter, I want you so bad, please” you whine, pulling him closer on top of you. “Next time sweetie” he promises, mustering up all his self control.

“But.. but I.. I wanna make a child with you. Please I want to try, don’t you?” you confess. Az freezes on top of you. Where dit that come from? Since when did you want this. You’ve never really talked about this before. “You really want that?” he questions. “Yes let’s try” you whisper, but it comes out too softly and your eyes are already closing. So Az laid next to you, pulling you close to him. Promising himself he will ask you about this tomorrow, when you're in a better state.

You place your hand on his chest with a sigh, rubbing over the muscles underneath his shirt. “No, no sleep, still want you Azzie” you mumble, trying to grind on his leg. “Tomorrow, I’ll make it up to you, I promise” he smiles. “You’re gonna ruin me tomorrow?” you say sleepily. He can’t help but laugh at your choice of words. “I’ll ruin you tomorrow” he chuckled in confirmation. “Good” was the last thing you whisper before you fall asleep in your mates arms. And let’s say, he kept his promise the next day.

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger

[hattiewritesalot]

am i allowed to cry?

Eris Vanserra x fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly harsh punishment from his father, Eris is left choking on his own emotions, and the guilt that comes with them. Pain is weakness, until it comes to his mate, Y/N. Set before the events of ACOTAR

Warnings: parental abuse, mentions of Beron 🤢, lots of angst, lots of hurt/comfort. unedited lol

A/N: I’ve had this idea in my head for ages and I figured I should finally write it (title is from guilty as sin by Taylor Swift)

———————————————————————————

Eris’ shaking hand clutches at the cloak he’s wrapped around his aching form, stumbling and limping back to his chamber, desperate to get somewhere private before, Cauldron forbid, any of his brothers see him.

The lashes on his back sting with the force of a thousand needles, the prickly pain curling around his spine and puncturing his muscles.

They’ve never hurt like this before. Maybe he’s getting weak.

Eris Vanserra would rather die than be known as weak, but right now? With gory gashes up his back? With bitter tears pooling at his lashlines? With a broken heart to match the shattered fragments of his childhood? He’s nothing but weak.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

He’s a dishonour to his family, to his court, to his people- to his mate. His precious mate, with her soft hair and sweet smile. She’s always been too good for him. His father himself had uttered it under his breath the moment he’d introduced Y/N to his family.

He hopes she isn’t in their chambers.

He hopes she’ll never see this weakness that has possessed him.

He shoves the heavy door open, eyes darting around the vacant room. Thank the Mother, Y/N must still be on her evening trip to the library. He moves quickly, tossing the bloodstained cloak on the floor, and turning towards the mirror.

The pale skin of his back is torn, the crimson of his blood coating just about every inch of it, covering the splashes of freckles and old scars.

Eris can’t control the tears that start to trickle down his cheeks.

This is dreadful. Not the gashes, those he’s used to. But the tears. He’s not allowed to cry. When did he become so weak!? When did he let himself become so susceptible to the raging emotions that have taken hold of his soul? When did-

“There you are, I was wondering when you’d be back-“ Y/N walks out of the bathroom, a bright smile on her face, but she’s too quick for him to hide.

Her face falls. She sees the blood. She sees the wounds. She sees the tears.

She sees the weakness.

Eris can’t speak. The only thing that comes out of his mouth is a loud sob.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

But then, her gentle voice fills his ears, and her hands cradle his face, lips kissing away the tears on his cheeks. “You’re okay.” She murmurs. “You’re gonna be okay, honey. I’ve got you.” He sobs harder. She fetches a cloth, hastily soaking it with cold water, and starts to swipe at the blood on his back, letting him bawl into the crook of her neck like a baby. “I’ve got you. Let it out, Eris. You’re allowed to cry.” No, he’s not. He’s weak. Weak, weak, weak-

“You’re so strong, baby.” She whispers.

…what?

“You’re so strong, so brave. You’ve been holding this in for so long.” She kisses his hair, continuing to gently wipe the blood away. “My strong mate, I love you so much.”

“No-“ He chokes out. “No. I’m weak.”

“Why do you think you’re weak, Er?”

He frowns. Isn’t it obvious? “I’m crying.”

“You just got beaten by your father. I’d be surprised if you weren’t crying.”

“But still, I shouldn’t be crying. I shouldn’t be weak.”

“I cry. Do you think I’m weak?”

He gapes at her. “N-no-“

“Exactly. Case closed. You’re not weak either.”

He’s silent for the next ten minutes while she treats his wounds. He watches her pretty face, pondering what he did to be so lucky to be her mate.

When she’s done, she pulls him down on the bed with her, positioning him to lie on his stomach between her legs. She twists his red hair in her fingers. “So strong.” She repeats. And the heir to the Autumn Court says nothing, nuzzling his nose into his mate’s neck. If she thinks he’s strong, then by the Cauldron, he supposes he is.

———————————————————————————

i am an eris vanserra stan first and then a person

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris vandaddy #eris x oc

[zeroreasonstocare]

Cont: established relationship, bottom!suguru x top!gn (I think) reader, handjob (m!receiving), overstim (m!receiving), dacryphilia if you squint, porn with plot (I think??), reader was tired of suguru's shit, mentions of aftercare

word count: ~1,200 words

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST TIME POSTING IM SO SCARED!!!1! This was brought to me in a vison (not really), and I needed to write it down, and I decided to share it! I don't expect a lot of attention from it but I hope whoever reads this enjoys. <3 (thank you @nanathott for encouraging me to post this!! I love your posts sm!)

ꨄMINORS DO NOT INTERACTꨄ

You hate the silent treatment. You two had been like this the entire day, Suguru ignoring you after an argument. You apologized after sleeping in the empty bed the night before, and he hadn’t said anything. You know that now it’s just him trying to piss you off; it’s obvious by the small smirk he has on his lips as he ignores you. You both are on the couch after a second day of silence from him. He reads as if nothing is wrong as you stare at him and pout, thinking of ways to get his attention.

“Suguru, I said I’m sorryyy,” You whine.

No response.

He flips the page of his book and keeps reading. You groan in frustration and stare at him, waiting for him to lift his gaze. He never does. You two sit there for ten minutes until you groan dramatically again and get off the couch, heading to the kitchen to make food. He doesn’t even acknowledge you.

You cook his favorite food, set the table for him, shut his book, and make him eat dinner with you. He doesn’t acknowledge you while eating. He is set on keeping silent just to piss you off. Suguru finishes eating, not even thanking you for cooking his favorite meal.

“Um, Suguru? Aren’t you forgetting something? A ‘thank you’, maybe?” You put your hands on your hips and give him a look.

Still, no response. 

You grab his chin and make him look at you. He presents that stupid smirk to you and you can’t stand him anymore. You pull him into a kiss and he happily accepts, trying to take control of the kiss but you don’t let him. You tug onto his hair- not roughly, but enough to prove your point- and he lets you take control of the kiss, letting your tongue slip into his mouth and explore his mouth. He groans into your mouth and puts his hands on your waist, teasing the hem of your shirt.

You pull back and look at him. “So now you wanna acknowledge me? Tell me ‘thank you’ for the dinner.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“For?”

“Thank you for making my favorite meal.”

“And?”

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you even after you apologized.” He rolls his eyes and smirks as he says this.

“You don’t look so sorry. Maybe I’ll have to make you.”

You grab his arm and drag him to the bedroom, sitting him on the bed and holding his neck as you kiss him. He hums into your lips as you kiss him, and he grabs your waist again. You push his hands down onto the bed and he looks at you. 

"You don't get to touch me while I'm punishing you, baby." You frown and go to your drawer. "Undress, Suguru."

He removes his clothes and curiously watches you over at your drawer, wondering what you're grabbing. 

"What is it, baby? What are you grabbing?" He asks, sitting on the bed in just his boxers. 

"Just some lube and maybe a few toys." You grin mischievously. 

"Not much of a punishment if you're getting me off, baby."

"Trust me, you'll see what I'm planning." 

You walk to the bed and tug off his boxers, his semi-hard cock resting against his thigh. You get some lube on your hands and start jerking him off, thumb grazing over his sensitive tip as he instantly hardens and his dick stands at full attention. He groans and tilts his head back as you continue your slow pace. 

"Baby, how is this punishment?"

"Oh, you'll see soon." You grin.

You continue to jerk him off and fondle his balls, the curse user's hips bucking against your hand. He runs a hand through his hair and watches you bring him closer to orgasm. The dark-haired male is a little worried that you're planning to edge him, so he doesn't fully get his hopes up about cumming just yet. You continue, though, much to his surprise, and he cums, tilting his head back and pretty groans escaping his mouth. What does surprise him is that you keep going after he cums, and he shoots his hands to yours, but you give him a glare. 

"Baby, you-" he sucks in a sharp breath, "you're overstimming me..." 

You don't listen, continuing to jerk him off. He groans and runs his hand through his hair again. You pull a second orgasm out of him quickly and he bucks his hips into your hand as you milk him. You keep going and he brings his hands to yours, stopping your movements. That draws a "tsk" out of you and you grab your cuffs and look at him. 

"I said this is a punishment, didn't I?"

He lets you cuff his hands behind his back and his body jolts as you go back to jerking him off. Your hands get tired, though, and you grab your vibrator, washing your hands as he gets overstimulated by the vibe. you sit next to him and open your own book, reading like he was earlier and ignoring his whimpers. 

"Baby, please, I'm sorry, I- ff-fuck- I'm sorry for giving you the silent treatment, please it's too much..." Suguru whines. 

His apologies and whimpers fall on deaf ears as you continue to read your book, text friends, and even turn on a video on your phone. He cums again and feels tears stinging his eyes. 

"Baby, I can't- fuck- I can't take it, it's too much, I really am sorry for ignoring you all day, I- ff-fuuuck." The dark-haired male reaches another orgasm as pretty tears start to stream down his cheeks. 

His sniffles and pretty cries draw your attention as you look at the mess before you. His hands clawing at the cuffs behind his back, body spasming from the intensity of his orgasms, face so precious as he cries from the overstimulation, it almost makes you want to stop and coddle him. Almost. You shut off the video you were watching and reach for the vibrator, which Suguru's eyes light up, thinking you're going to turn it off. You grin and turn up the intensity, and he cums again, his body shaking as he begs for you to turn it off. 

"Fuuck, baby, I can't- can't take it, too- fuck- too much!" He cries. 

You watch another orgasm drip out of his leaky cock, which makes you finally turn off the vibrator, uncuff his hands, and gently clean off his white-stained lap. 

"Aw, you learn your lesson now?" You coo and pepper kisses around his face. 

"Mhm... promise, I learned my lesson..." He whines.

You lay next to him and gently run your fingers through his hair as he slowly comes down from the overstimulation you put him through. The larger male nuzzles into you and you wipe his tears.

"You want to shower now or later, baby?" You whisper softly

"Later, need to nap..." He says meekly. 

"Let's sleep, then. I'll get you water after the nap and then we can have some snacks or dessert before we shower, yeah?"

"Yeah..." He mumbles and falls asleep while you play with his hair and plant little kisses all over his face. 

#suguru geto smut #suguru geto x reader #bottom suguru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut

[radiofree-america]

I’m bored so here are songs that remind me of my friends

Pittsie @pittsie-boy

For obvious reasons

Neil @first-unmanned-flying-desk-set

He just needs a break, okay???

Todd @social-anxiety-and-poetry

Phenomal at writing words, bad at saying them

Knox @knoxious-overstreet

Bro just has a lot of love to give

Charlie @phonecall-fromgod

Idk he just gives these vibes

Cam Cam @therealrichardcameron

OKAY SORRY SORRY SORRY LAST ED SHEERAN JOKE I SWEAR ACTUAL SONG:

Yeah he ratted on us but ya know what I forgive him for reasons

Chris @miss-chris-noel

Once again this should be obvious

Ginny @ginnylovestheatre

Idk this just seems like you Ginny

And last but certainly not least

Matt @neutron-star-collision

(Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer)

I dunno there’s just something about you that really draws me to you *shrug*

All my buddies and pals feel free to do similar posts to this or add onto this one💛💛

#steven meeks #meeks can speaks #gerard pitts #neil perry #todd anderson #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #richard cameron #chris noel #ginny danburry #matt the exchange student #dead poets society #dead poets society rp #Spotify #SoundCloud

[bbbuckaroo]

i think the entire 911 fandom situation is very interesting to witness because we've been saying this for years: buck and eddie girlies would have been at each other's throats all this time if their common ship hadn't united them. i think the current takes show incredibly well that the same people who hate bucktommy simply wanted eddie to have the queer storyline, with or without buck. i do understand that. people can have favorite characters and want them to have specific storylines. but now, from a narrative standpoint, bi eddie and buddie seem very unlikely to ever happen in canon. buck girlies get to enjoy canon bisexual buck kissing a man on screen and being in love while they cannot and probably will never get that for eddie. at least not with a man, and let's be real, that's all the hardcore antis seem to care about. i think now, given all that has happened in s7, we're finally seeing people's favoritism unveiled (not that it wasn't obvious the entire time) and there is less unity on where the story should go for buck and eddie. suddenly, i think for the first time ever, hardcore buddie shippers are truly forced to actually view buck and eddie as individuals that live alongside each other as besties while having their own separate lives. it's funny to me that antis act as if people have "abandoned" eddie. he is getting heavy focus in s7? he is still a main character? shouldn't people be happy that his character is further explored and his trauma is hopefully finally worked on? i feel like i appreciate canon eddie more than many eddie girlies do just because many eddie girlies seem to enjoy a highly fanonized version of him only. and that fanon version is being shattered, due to bucktommy and now with eddie being confirmed to still love shannon, the love of his life. it's good for the 911 ecosystem. i hope this adjustment period will end soon, and people will finally calm down about the buddie agenda.

I truly did not even think about Eddie vs. Buck being such a huge trigger for the drama, which I why I love these constructive discussions. And I agree that if not for their friendship/the discussion of Buddie it could have created a lot of tension (“Buck’s getting more screen time, they’re making Eddie look like the bad guy, it’s not fair this and that”). It’s one of the reasons I suspect that small radical group may end up imploding because if they’re not getting the attention they want from us they’re going to start fighting amongst themselves.

I agree that if not to Buddie the idea of Eddie being queer would have never come up but then again I’m not sure any girlfriend would have been good enough? It’s a double-edged sword. And I think the show has amazing queer representation and adding another character journey so similar to Buck’s would seem too repetitive and do a disservice to the others because it would feel like a trend.

I did a post a while ago with a bit of a rant about how Ryan seems so excited about his future character development (think he’s ready to portray some good angst) and it was automatically brought back to Buddie. How is journey is really about Buddie and how it goes back to that. And talk about a disservice. You’d think people would be THRILLED for Eddie to get his own individual storyline but alas no.

I haven’t always been an Eddie fan, I may be biased towards Buck but whether it was intentional or not, I always found him to be a bit selfish and his relationship with Buck a bit more one way or another. Which could be me totally misreading it but this sesson?! OMG I’ve fallen in love with him again. He’s so silly and playful, the basketball scene where he’s doing that little head bop makes me all sorts of 😍😍😍. I feel like it’s a true representation of who he js and that’s probably why all the Shannon drama is coming up, he’s going back to himself and that brings back a lot of repressed trauma. Ryan has done phenomenal and is vulnerability as a “macho” man is so needed to be seen nowadays.

I agree as with everything you’ve said, it’s time to focus on the characters as separate entities who will always gravitate back to each other. No matter how bad a fight Eddie and Buck have or will have, they have such a special (platonic) relationship that I adore. Thank you so much for your ask, it brings up so many good points and definitely offers hope that these sorts of mindsets will drive us to continue to push the positive and ignore the negative!

#911 show #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #platonic buddie #i’m not anti buddie #i’m anti bullying and bullshit #great insight #oliver stark #ryan guzman #with a side of tommy and shannon #i feel like they’d be all sorts of sass together #anon ask

[mazzystar24]

i feel like you’re the right audience for this but i’m rewatching gilmore girls and buck and eddie are so luke and lorelai coded sometimes. christopher is rory and shannon is christopher (sorry shannon i love you). ana is max medina.

BABE YOU HAVE DEFINITELY REACHED THE RIGHT AUDIENCE ISTG I THINK I MADE LIKE 167283 POSTS ABOUT THIS

Like eventhough Chris is Rory in this situation I feel like buck is more loralie and Eddie is way more luke, so like plot wise it’s the other way but dynamic and character wise DEFINITELY Luke=Eddie and loralie= buck

Like there is something about the yapper/ fond of the yapper, the one who believes in fate and the universe/ the one who thinks it’s all bs, sunshine/ grumpy, needs attention to survive/doesn’t like attention dynamic that is just RIGHT

Plus like loralie- fucked up and complicated relationship with her parents where she never felt seen by them, troublemaker when she was younger, has a tendency to make things about her/ take things personally, kinda needy and like loves attention, yapper, adhd coded in my opinion, ran away from home at a young age to then find herself in another place and build this sort of found family dynamic, emotional attachment to a jeep, has a tendency to sometimes get control freak, micromanaging mode

All of which are very buck things

And Eddie is so luke for obvious reasons like the sort of need to kinda drag things out of him a little more, endlessly fond and supportive, would rather die than talk about his feelings, like just that sturdy energy idk

And rip Shannon but I have mixed feelings about you and you do fit the Christopher role: like left their kids with no contact✅technically has like a reason of being young scared etc but still went NO CONTACT WITH THEIR CHILD✅ their love interest romanticises their relationship eventhough in reality it’s not a good relationship ✅

Also omg Rory as Chris just works so well cos it’s like that smart beyond their years and supportive energy (cough cough both had a player era too)

I see your Ana as max and I raise you Tommy as Rachel, nothing overtly wrong but they’re just not the right person (if he has the Rachel send off I’d die of joy)

TAYLOR IS JASON (digger) LIKE THE SAME ENERGY OF BEING A BIT COLD AND CLOSED OFF AND SHIT AND THEN BETRAYING THEIR TRUST BY HURTING THEIR FAMILY - actually depending on how Tommy goes his personality also fits Jason too like the kinda closed off energy works

Marisol is Nicole cos Nicole pisses me off 🙄 (like we haven’t seen Marisol enough for me to hate her but you know what edy made me hate her because seeing her face and hearing her voice actually physically makes me vomit) but like lbr personality of a wet towel, underdeveloped, moved very quickly then moved back then moved quick again then imploded

Omg tho if we get any form of luke and loralie build to buddie I would love it like I made a post before about the “I feel like I’m never gonna have it- the whole package” “you will” “you don’t know that, how do you know that” “ I just do” conversation but also the luke and loralie first kiss would be so scrumptious for buddie

I’m gonna shut up now cos I feel like I yapped too much but yes I love you sm because you absolutely clocked me right with this ask

#911 #buddie #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz #911onfox #evan buck buckley #buckley diaz family #asks open #send asks #send me asks #answered asks #asks #my asks

[hearted-anon]

headcanon that Changbin’s thighs are something that he’s really insecure about, which is why he rarely so often sits on the other members laps. He enjoys when the others seek comfort in him, but never likes it when he’s the one who has to sit on others, despite enjoying it to the max.

the other members know this well, and enjoy making him feel less secure with what they enjoy most.

this was 588 words, wasn’t supposed to be that long but oops.

“Changbin~ C’mere.” Changbin heard a voice echo throughout the hallways, snapping to its source in an instant. He was met face to face with the leader, who was patting his lap with a comforting smile, arms wide as an invitation. Changbin’s heart sank, he wanted to so bad, dash into Chan’s arms and sink into his lap, let his hair be run through and comforted, but he couldn’t.

He was too heavy, thighs too big to accommodate to Chan’s wants.

Noticing the younger’s obvious hesitance, the older pouted, pulling out the cutest puppy eyes ever to beg Changbin over. Curse him for knowing that Binnie will never not give in to puppy eyes, he’s fallen victim to them no matter how many times it’s been used, even Minho had started using that tactic to get his way.

Waddling over, poor Bin was simply standing in front of Chris, refusing to move or sit down completely onto the older’s lap. He gulped, watching the arms of comfort that he so desperately wanted, but knew he couldn’t get due to his size and weight.

“Bin, if you don’t sit down, I’ll make you. You’re not too heavy alright?” Chan insisted, making Changbin cave with a long sigh. Slowly, he placed himself onto Chan’s lap, arms wrapping around his waist tenderly that made him melt. Chris smiled happily, enjoying having the member in his lap like his favourite stuffie.

All was well, till Changbin made the wrong decision to try and get up. He squirmed slightly at first, not enough to be noticeable. Then he outright tried to push his legs of Chan, making him grumble in annoyance. The leader pushed his thighs back down, before continuing to snuggle into his neck with a content sigh.

Then it happened again, and this time the older wasn’t so lenient. Grabbing the younger’s thighs, he instantly squeezed and scribbled all over them without mercy, still squishing them to force changbin to remain nicely seated onto his lap.

“WAHAHAHIT! HYUNG NOHOT THIS! PLEHEHEASE!” Changbin begged through boisterous cackles, but Channie had no reply, simply continuing his torture over his favourite doughy thighs. He loved to admire every part of his members, even if they needed some persuasion for it. If Changbin wouldn’t listen to his instructions, he’ll make sure he would.

“Hm? Thighs are so pretty aren’t they? Seated on my lap so prettily, tell me you look pretty.” The leader demanded, shooting a stern glare to the rapper in an instant. Changbin flushed under the praise, shaking his head rapidly in denial of the older’s sweet words. He regretted it as fast as he did it though, feeling the fingers slip to the underside of his thighs, scratching tortuously gently with blunt nails.

“AAHAHAHHA! HYUNG! HYUNG PLEHEHEAHAHA!” Changbin screamed for mercy, pounding at the older’s back as his face was muffled into Chan’s shoulder, kicking out his legs in a futile attempt to ward off the fingers.

“Nah ah, tell me what I want to hear.” Chan replied with a soft smile, not letting up in the slightest. He enjoyed seeing Binnie so flustered, so happy that he was getting the body appreciation he deserved, maybe he would do this more often.

“I-I’M PREHEHEHETTY! STAHAHAHAP PLEASE!” With that, Chan let up, rubbing soothing circles onto the rapper’s back as he heaved for air. His legs dangled off Chan’s lap lazily, too worn out to even move himself off the older’s lap.

Maybe next time Changbin would think twice before getting off someone’s lap…

#lee changbin #..? #ler channie #ler skz #technically #I love them #stray kids tickle #kpop tickle #skz tickle #let me out #body appreciation #:((((

[2af-afterdark]

The Cure That Ales You

Fandom: What in Hell is Bad? Content: Leviathan x gn!MC (you/your), dub/noncon A/N: You know, sometimes I want to be transported into the games I play because they are escapist fantasy for me, but, as an asexual, I am sometimes glad that I am not in WHB. MC is sex-happy and loves their situation (mostly) but… I just think of how awful it would be if they weren’t into sex or didn’t want to have sex with a particular person but they didn’t really have a choice in the matter since they literally need it to survive in Hell and refusal may either kill them or make them so ill they cannot keep their deal with Satan, which would kill Minhyeok. It’s kind of a shitty situation to be trapped in if you aren’t 100% up for sex with, well, anyone and everyone at any given time. So, you know. That’s what this fic kind of is. Consider this your warning. Word Count: 1003

You closed your eyes as you cradled your face in your hands. The sensation of nausea flooded your head and left your legs uneasy beneath you. Your stomach twisted and turned and rolled over itself inside your body. The world spun and twirled in random patterns around you, shapes faded in and out of view, and colors blurred with smells and textures.

This was the sickness that came with having your energy depleted to the point of concern. It was like being a wet clay jar, left to dry under the harsh rays of the sun to crack and chip until it couldn’t hold anything inside of it. Hell itself was tearing you apart because it knew you didn't belong.

Once the sickness was too much to bear, you stumbled and collapsed. The ground did not catch you. Instead, you fell forward into something firm. Through your hazy vision, you could just barely make out Leviathan glaring at you from over his shoulder as you held yourself up using him as a cane.

“Who said you could touch me?” He asked rhetorically with murder in his tone.

Despite his obvious anger, you were grateful that he insisted on walking in front of you as he dragged you from place to place. It had unknowingly put him in the perfect position to catch you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you tried to pick yourself back up.

Your efforts were for naught though, as attempting to push yourself up only had you stumbling anew.

No one – citizen or noble – ran to help you, despite your clear distress. If you had to guess, no one in Hades would dare to upset their envious lord by moving to assist you when it was clear that he was guiding you. Although, what he was really doing was dragging you along with him while you were in his kingdom because he still didn't trust to leave you alone.

You couldn’t see it through your blurry vision, but the judgment radiating from his stare burned holes through the very soul that felt like it was being torn apart inside of you.

He huffed in annoyance. “If you're low on energy, say so.”

You shook your head, regretting the decision immediately as a new wave of nausea overcame you.

“I’m fine.”

It was an obvious lie, but you could make it true. All you needed was to get back to Gehenna or Tartaros and one of the devils there would take care of you. Gehenna was home to the friendliest devils you knew whereas Tartaros’ residents were so devoted that sex with them was filled with laughter and smiles as well as pleasure.

“Do you think that because humans can lie in a way devils can't it means you can lie so blatantly?”

“No. I just-”

You couldn't finish your statement as Leviathan grabbed you around your hip and pulled you closer. If it was anyone but him, the gesture would also feel romantic. The one grabbing you was Leviathan though, so you knew his actions were about pulling you around and controlling you.

“I'm sorry. I’ll see someone to get energy.”

You weakly pushed against him but it did nothing.

“You don't need to go to anyone else. I'm already here.” His other hand snaked up your neck, gripping it tightly. “Bring us to your room.”

“I don't want-”

“What you want is irrelevant.” His coffin appeared out of the ground behind him. “We can go here if you prefer.”

It wasn't a genuine offer. Even in your inebriated state, you could tell that his words were a threat. Either you brought him to your special place – the illusionary realm given to you out of kindness by Satan that also served to remind you of why you fought so hard in Hell – or he would drag you into the same coffin that he had nearly locked you away in forever when you first met him.

Through your hazy mind, you brought him to your illusionary room. If you had to be brought somewhere, you would rather it be somewhere you were comfortable. His coffin was only filled with bad memories.

The pillow was soft beneath your head, though it offered no solace in your current state. Even lying on your back, it felt like you were going to fall through the bed and crash to the ground.

Unlike when you invited others to this space, you were careful to keep your clothing on. This wasn’t a passionate love affair or even a fun tumble in the sheets. The only way you could think of Leviathan was as bitter medicine.

Everything that happened – the hand that clawed down your torso to tear open your shirt and expose your chest, the knee that nestled itself between your legs to force them apart, his grip that tightened around your wrists and guided your hand to his throat – blurred together. You tightened your grip around his throat, trying to push against him to push him away from you. Even in your sickened state – feeling like you were being torn apart – you didn’t want him. 

The haze in your mind was only matched by that in his eyes as you began to choke him. That expression reminded you of what he had said only moments earlier.

What you want is irrelevant.

He was terrible to know that he was right. No matter how much you protested, you were currently in a state that could generously be described as dying. Leviathan was the only one with you – although you could assume that Foras had been nearby as always. Whether you liked him or not, whether you wanted him or someone else, Leviathan was the only option you had if you wanted to get better; if you wanted to have the strength to keep your promise and free the devils of Hell.

So you turned your head to try and stare at the wallpaper you knew all too well to remind yourself why you were here at all.

#2af writes #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #afab fic #cw dubcon #cw noncon

[postazkabansiriussupremacy]

Happiness. Sirius Black x Reader

Reader has been ignoring Sirius and he wants to know why.

Set during Bill and Fluer’s wedding in Deathly Hallows.

CW: nothing really. sirius comforting reader bc she’s scared of the war and distancing herself from him. easily solved through communication

“I get the feeling you’re avoiding me.” Sirius says as he saunters toward you. You’ve barely looked at him, much less spoken to him in over a week now and Sirius can’t figure out why.

He thought your last rendezvous went spectacularly. First Sirius brought flowers to your home/safe house. You cooked a lovely meal together, sharing stories and laughs. Then the night ended blissfully with a little love-making.

He’s gone over it in his head at least a dozen times now trying to figure out what’s caused the sudden shift in you, and he can’t come up with anything. He couldn’t imagine a better night if he tried.

Even now while he stands right next to you, you only glance at him before turning your eyes back to the dance floor. You shrug, giving him a false smile. “‘Course not. It’s just been a busy week.”

Sirius doesnt buy it for even a second. You’re right, it has been a busy week, but there’s no reason for you to be ignoring his gaze like this unless you’re upset with him. He can’t help but feel a little nervous that you don’t want to continue seeing him.

“Ah, that’s all?” He says, standing next to you as he clearly feigns his understanding of the situation. “And here I was thinking you didn’t love me anymore.”

At his words, he watches you fidget and shift your weight from one foot to the other. You scoff quietly, “I’ve never told you that anyway.”

Sirius smiles and rolls his eyes—not that you’re looking at him enough to notice anyway. He leans in closer. “Not with your words, but in other ways.”

And he’s right. You two may have never verbally spoken your love for one-another, but your actions make it more than obvious.

He sees a small tinge of pink color your cheeks. You meet eyes with him long enough to glare and grumble out a “Don’t be crass.”

“My apologies.” He chuckles quietly, holding out a hand for you to take. “Will you dance with me?”

Thankfully, you take him up on his offer. Putting your hand in his, Sirius guides you to the dance floor. With one hand holding yours and the other resting on your hip, Sirius leads in swaying you to the music.

As he’s never been one to beat around the bush, Sirius gets straight to the point. “Do you regret what we’ve done?”

“No.” You answer without hesitation, which makes Sirius feel a little better. You purse your lips and look away as if thinking of something, so he gives you a moment of silence to gather your words.

“It’s just scary, isn’t it?” You sigh, finally looking at him. “First it was Dumbledore, and then Mad Eye passed not even a couple of weeks ago. Any of us could be dead within the next week.”

Sirius nods understandingly, feeling a little relieved he wasn’t the direct cause of your distance. But he also knows there isn’t much he can say to comfort you in that aspect, although he’ll do his best. “Unfortunately that is a possibility, but I’d prefer you spoke to me about it rather than shutting yourself away.”

Still holding Sirius’s hand, stepping and swaying to the music, you come closer and rest the side of your face on his shoulder. Looking around at the other wedding guests as they dance, drink and laugh, you speak softly, “I’m sorry. This kind of stuff is wonderful, it just feels a bit strange to be doing in the middle of a war.”

“It does,” Sirius agrees, sliding his hand from your hip to the small of your back. “But in times like these we need to find happiness wherever we can.”

You smile. “Then I suppose I’m happy to have found you.”

Sirius chuckles softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He kisses the top of your head. “So you still love me then?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I love you too.”

#i didn’t proof read this #i’m not going to either #🫡 #sirius black #sirius black x reader #post azkaban sirius #post azkaban sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction