#events assume you know everyone and are friends with them already and work from there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsleclerc · 6 months

Text

just the three of us

charles and his girlfriends eventful Saturday afternoon

Charles Leclerc x reader

warnings; pregnancy, doubt in a relationship ?

w/c: 1.5k

based off this request

You smiled over at Charles, noticing the small but chubby baby girl babbling in his arms, your smile growing wider as you heard your boyfriend mimic her incoherent babbles. You had been with Charles for 3 years now, already engaged - no wedding plans yet, but you were working up to it - but you noticed that Charles had been avoiding the one very important talk with you; kids. The thing you wanted more than anything, but the very thing that he all but refused to talk to you about; you felt terrible for thinking it, but it made you feel like he didn't want them with you, especially as you watched him entertain the baby he held in his arms.

"Hey, are you okay?" Your friend asked you, noticing that your smile had disappeared from your face, almost longingly looking over at Charles. You shook your head of your negative thoughts, giving your friend the best reassuring smile you could muster in your heartbreak for the future that Charles may or may not see himself having with you.

"Yeah, just distracted," You smiled, leaning forward to take a sip of the mocktail that your friend had made for you, you had made the suggestion to her since it was her gender reveal, it would have been fair for everyone else to be able to enjoy a drink while she couldn't. She smiled at you, leaning forward to rest her chin on your shoulder, following your gaze over to where Charles stood holding another one of your friends baby's.

"He's really good with her," She commented, looking at you with a grin. "Have you guys talked about kids yet? Cause that one is meant to be a girl dad, Y/N." She sounded so certain. You didn't know, though. Yeah, he was meant to be a girl dad, it was so blatantly evident in how he was with the now squealing baby he was tickling in his arm - His reluctancy to at least acknowledge your want for a child had you doubting that he was going to be one with you.

"He won't talk to me about it, (Name)," You told your best friend, frowning as you thought of him leaving you. "What if he doesn't want them?" Your voice was breaking as you spoke. (Name) had been your friend since you were both little girls, you had dreamed of having your babies be best friends like you were, assuming you would both be lucky enough to have girls on your first try. She sighed, wrapping her arms around you to hug you and try and comfort you.

"He'd be stupid, then, love," (Name) assured you, she knew how you were a bit of an over thinker at the best of times. "He wouldn't have asked you to marry him otherwise, yeah?" You sniffled as you nodded, quickly drying your eyes of tears before your mascara started to run and Charles would be able to tell that you were upset. "Charles loves you so much, Y/N. Maybe you should talk to him about it, he's a guy, he might be nervous to bring it up to you." She suggested, you knew that she was right, she always was and you knew that.

You knew that.

Maybe now you wouldn't trust your friend so much.

You had excused yourself to the bathroom, and as you were walking past your lover and your friends, you had heard him tell another party goer that he wasn't sure if he wanted kids.

Oh.

You swore as you heard every word leave his lips, that another piece of you crumbled. Thankfully for you, you could hide it well enough that you would be able to get home without Charles suspecting that you had heard him, that you would blame your puffy eyes on a poor nights sleep. You couldn't believe it - You weren't mad at Charles, no, you never could be, he was your boyfriend, soon to be husband; but clearly, never the father to be of your children.

"That's nice for your friend, a little girl," Charles beamed, his hand on your thigh as he drove the two of you home to your Monaco apartment. You hummed and nodded, unable to meet his eyes for fear that your resolve would crumble, and you would burst into tears. "Are you okay, mon Ange?" He asked you, concern lacing his voice as he took a moment to glance over at you, noticing your down mood.

"Yeah I'm um," You scrambled to think of an excuse. "I'm just tired, is all, I promise, my love." You quickly assured Charles, hoping that he wouldn't push you any further. He hummed, remembering that youhad been up early that morning, but only because you claimed that you had a stomach bug, caught from one of the girls that you worked with.

"Oh, okay," He seemed content with that excuse. "We can go to bed and get cosy when we get home, yeah?" Your heart swelled at his offer - Charles career meant that he was often gone for extended periods of time, and you could sometimes go a whole month without seeing him, so the offer of having time with just him made you want to start crying.

It soon became clear that your emotions were getting the better of you, however.

As Charles pulled into the garage of your apartment building, putting his Ferrari into park, you started wailing. Charles, concerned, reached over to hold your shoulders, an attempt to try and calm you down.

"Woah, it's okay, love, just breathe," Charles coaxed you, trying to calm you down enough so he could make some sort of sense about what had made you so obviously upset. "It's okay, my love, just breathe, I'm right here," He knew it was working when your wails quieted down to mere sniffles, and you rubbed at your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan. "Can you tell me what made you so upset, mon ange?" Charles asked you, his eyes gleaming with concern for you.

"I-I just love you so much and I miss you a lot when you're gone," You cried out, sobs wracking your body. "A-and I heard you say to one of our friends that you're not sure if you want kids and it just made me really sad because th-there's nothing I want more than to have a baby with you because I really love you." It clicked for Charles why you were so upset for the remainder of your friends party after you had gone to the bathroom.

"No, no Mon Cherie, it's not like that at all," He explained to you, grabbing your hand and holding in his own. "I want a baby with you too, more than anything. I just wasn't sure if it would be fair on you since I would be gone so often. I didn't know how to bring it up to you without upsetting you, but please know that there is nothing I want more than a little me or you running around." You looked up at him as he held your face in his hands, he always found himself admiring the little things about you, his beautiful girl, the love of his life.

"Y-You're not just saying that?" Your bottom lip wobbled as you spoke, looking up at him with wide eyes. He shook his head and placed a small kiss on your lips, you knew that he was serious, Charles could be a lot of things sometimes, but he was never insincere. "Well um," You sniffled as you looked down, fiddling with the frayed end of your cardigan sleeve. "I did want to tell you in a more romantic and nicer way," Charles tilted his head. "I'm pregnant."

The two words hung heavy in the air, you and Charles staring deep into each others eyes, you noticed the tears bubbling in his own and yours followed his hand as it made its way from your cheek down to your stomach.

"We have a baby in there?"

His voice was gentle, breaking as he felt the tiny, but their bump of your tummy. You tearfully nodded, a smile growing on your face as one made its way onto Charles' own. He let out a greatful sob as he leaned over, wrapping both of his arms around you, minding to be gentle, even if you had little to no bump, that was his baby.

"We're going to be parents, Charles," You cried, looking at your lover, who's eyes held nothing but love and adoration for you as he leaned forward, locking both of your lips into a passionate, and heated kiss.

Well, maybe your best friend was right.

notes: lowkey hate this but we'll move on from it x

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles lechair #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fluff

1K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 4 months

Text

Someone Sane

Max Verstappen x reader // Strawberry Wine Pt II

Strawberry Wine Series // Masterlist

Part Two to Always Walk Me Home (would recommend reading AWMH first)

Summary: You and Max have a shared love for strawberry wine. The rest of your friends think you’ve got bad taste. Or: @vetteltea read Always Walk Me Home and asked for more about the strawberry wine, and then I ran with it. So this is also a bit of a prequel, really 🍓

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication

You walk through the front door of the apartment, shucking off your coat and slipping off your shoes. Max Verstappen’s apartment is a shoes off household. You’ve learned that in the two and a half months you’ve known him. You can hear your friends in the kitchen, laughing loudly about something. One of Max’s cats- Jimmy or Sassy, you can’t tell them apart- is sitting in the hall, watching you curiously.

You’re the last one to arrive. You’d had to work late, had told them to get started without you. You bend to pat the cat on the head on your way past. Everyone is gathered in the kitchen, standing around the island. Someone yells your name enthusiastically when you walk in. Your friend Louise, the one who’d introduced you to this friend group, shoves a wine glass in front of you. It’s not full, just a half glass of something pink.

“Try it,” she says.

Her eyes are wide. Everyone is staring at you. This feels like some sort of initiation. You smell the cup- you’d have assumed it was a rosé, but there’s a hint of something else there. Trusting your friends to not have spiked it with something, you take a cautious sip. Strawberries. It’s strawberry wine. Sweet and sugary. Next to you, Louise laughs. You furrow your brows and stare at her.

“What?” You ask.

“The wine,” she says through a giggle. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

You take another sip. She raises her brows.

“No?” You say, before you down the rest of the glass. “No, that’s good. I love strawberries.”

Her jaw drops open. The rest of the group erupts into chaos. Someone calls you batshit insane. You look around in bewilderment.

“Thank god,” Max says, taking your glass from your hand. “Someone sane is finally here.”

He’s holding the bottle of wine in his hand. You don’t know Max very well- he’d been a friend of a friend up until a few months ago, when Louise invited you to a party and then kept inviting you to events. You’re… friendly. He intimidates you a bit. He’s smiling at you now, though, as he pours you a full glass of the wine.

“They all think it’s awful,” he says, shaking his head in disappointment. “I was going to drink the whole thing by myself. It would’ve been sad.”

You blink and laugh, taking the glass back from him. “Cheers, then, I guess?”

He picks his glass up from the counter and clinks it against yours.

…..

“Does anyone want wine?” You call out from your kitchen into the living room.

It’s a quiet night. Not everyone was able to make it, so you’re at your apartment. There’s a football match playing on the TV that nobody’s really paying attention to. There’s a few people playing some sort of game of cards that you didn’t even try to understand. Everyone else is just sitting around and chatting.

“What kind?” Louise calls back.

You open the fridge and laugh. “Never mind.”

“S’that fucking strawberry shit, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” you say in a singsongy tone.

You turn around, reaching for your corkscrew. At the very least, it means you won’t have to share with everyone. Just-

Max calls out. “Bring me a glass? And maybe just bring the bottle in here?”

Someone is making fun of him for it, you can hear it from the other room. You do as he said, though. You hand him the glass, having already poured the wine into it. Then you turn to head back to your original seat. Max reaches up with his free hand and tugs on your wrist.

He pats the open spot on the couch next to him. “Sit here? So we can share the wine.”

Your face grows hot, but you nod and come around to sit next to him. He’s potentially the only one watching the football match- you think his favorite team is one of the ones playing. You feel a bit out of alignment for a moment. You’re in your own apartment, on your own couch, but something about him asking you to sit next to him has thrown you off kilter. You take a breath and try to relax. He doesn’t mean anything by it. You’re overthinking it.

You settle back into the couch by your second glass. By Max’s second, he throws his arm over the back of the sofa, his fingers just barely brushing your neck in the process. It’s nothing, but it makes you shiver anyways.

…..

Max is out of the country on your birthday. He’s in Spain for the Grand Prix. He’ll be back soon after, though, and then the next race is in Monaco. You’re already buzzing with excitement, chatting with your friends about outfits and plans and events throughout the weekend.

The night of your birthday your friends take you out to dinner. It’s a Monday night, so it won’t be anything too crazy, but it’s nice to know they’re thinking about you. You have good food, better wine, and then Louise invites everyone back to her apartment to hang out for the rest of the night. You’re in her kitchen when you hear the front door open. It strikes you as odd- you’d all walked here together. Though you suppose someone could be leaving, or popping out to get some air. You’re reaching into the fridge when someone clears their throat. You turn over your shoulder and find Max.

“Hi, birthday girl,” he says, voice soft and scratchy. He holds up a bag. “Brought you a present.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, because you swear his plane didn’t land until 8:00, and it’s only 8:30. You sort of want to hug him, but he’s not a very touchy person, and you’re not sure you know him well enough yet. You cross the kitchen anyway.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. “You were in Spain.”

He laughs. “It’s not that long of a flight.”

“Yeah, but…” you blink up at him. “You had a busy weekend. I didn’t expect you to come over.”

He tilts his head at you. “It’s your birthday.”

He says it like that’s enough explanation. To him, maybe it is. He may not be a touchy person, but he is the type to show up for his friends. You’ve seen examples of it everywhere- he’s the first to respond in a group chat, the first to show up to every party. It’s a side of him that you don’t think the rest of the world gets to see very often. You’re honored to somehow be a part of it.

He holds the gift bag out to you. “I don’t think I’m going to stay long,” he admits, scrubbing at his scruff with his free hand. “I’m exhausted. But I wanted to at least stop by.”

You take the bag. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to.”

Inside the bag you find a soft, light scarf, similar to the one Louise wore the last time you saw Max. You’d complimented it, asked where she got it- she’d answered a boutique in Spain. You gasp, running the fabric through your fingers. It’s cream colored, and you wrap it around your neck happily. Then you realize the bag still feels heavy. You reach inside again and your fingers wrap around the neck of a wine bottle. You know what it’s going to be before you even pull it out.

You hold the bottle to your chest and smile up at him. “My favorite.”

He’s smiling a bright smile, has been since you took the bag from him. It makes his cheeks squish and his eyes crinkle. The look he’s giving you is warm and soft. Your heart thuds wildly in your chest. It’s just him being friendly. That’s enough, really, isn’t it? Max picks his friends carefully. The fact that he’s here, that he made such an effort to be here with you for your birthday, is enough.

You uncork the bottle and pour two glasses- one for you and one for him.

It’s not until the next morning that you notice the embroidery on the end of the scarf- a tiny pink strawberry, hidden in the corner.

…..

Your apartment is packed to the brim with people. Your friends are here, your friend’s friends are here, people’s siblings and cousins. What started as a small Grand Prix afterparty has turned into a bit of an overwhelming event. The guest of honor isn’t even here, and likely won’t be. He may have showed, had told you he was planning on it, but then he went and won the race, and now you’re sure he’s busy. You’re sure Red Bull has roped him into some sort of sponsored event.

You’d texted him to tell him congratulations, but so far he hasn’t answered. You can’t say you blame him. You’d seen the celebrations at the podium ceremony- there’s no way he’s had a moment alone.

You and your friends had opted to go back to your apartment since it was closest. However, with this many friends all in town to watch him race, your home has become a bit of a landing pad. You can barely make it through your own kitchen without stepping on somebody’s toes. You’re running dangerously low on alcohol, though you wonder if that may be a good thing. Maybe it’s time to move this party to a club or a restaurant or anywhere other than your tiny apartment.

You squeeze your way through to the front hallway, trying to find anywhere that has any sort of space. You can see from here that your balcony is nearly dangerously packed with people. You reach into the hall cupboard, where you know you keep a couple bottles of wine-

The front door swings open. You groan at the idea of another person in your apartment, resting your head on the edge of a shelf in the cupboard. You don’t even bother looking to see who it is, because everyone you know is already here.

“Holy shit,” you hear. “I didn’t know you could fit this many people in here.”

You peer around the cupboard door. Max is standing there, a wide grin on his face. He smells like champagne and Red Bull. Someone makes their way through the hallway, and he steps back to stay hidden behind the open door.

“We figured you were out with the team,” you say, eyes wide.

“I’m going,” he says, jerking his head towards the hallway. “I came to get you guys. Who are all of these people?”

“Friends of friends, people’s families, I don’t know,” you say, still peering around the door at him. “I think someone’s grandma is here. We’re almost out of alcohol. I’m grabbing wine.”

You pull the bottle from the cupboard and hold it up to him. He grins impossibly wider at the label. Strawberry wine.

“Nobody else will drink that,” he says. “You’re going to have a mutiny on your hands.”

“Yeah, well, I got it as a gift for you, to celebrate the race, but now I’m thinking about chugging it and then locking myself in the bedroom.”

Max raises his brows. You stare back at him. Then it hits you. You step around the cupboard door and without thinking, you throw your arms around him.

“Congrats, by the way. On the race.”

You remember mid hug that this is Max, and that Max doesn’t really like hugs. Before you can pull away, though, he’s wrapping his arms around you. He squeezes you tight to his chest for a moment. You feel him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I’m glad you were there to see it. And thank you for the wine.”

You know he’s talking generally, about your friend group. But for a moment, you let yourself think he’s talking just about you.

“I have a better plan,” he says, keeping you held against his chest. “You and I take that bottle. We sneak it into the club with us.”

“And all the people in my apartment?” You ask, flinching as you hear something that sounds an awful lot like broken glass.

He sighs. “We bring them with us. It’s better than them destroying your place.”

“Even the grandma?”

“Grandmas love nightclubs.”

You laugh into his chest. “You should go. If someone sees you they’ll go crazy.”

He pulls away and grabs your shoulders. “We should go. We’ll call Louise on the way, tell her where to meet us.”

Really, who are you to say no? He’s Max Verstappen, he’s just won the Monaco Grand Prix. So you slip on a pair of shoes and follow him out the front door before anyone can catch sight of him. Then you’re walking down the streets of Monaco, side by side with him. He takes the bottle of wine from your hands and stops at a crowd of people partying in someone’s front lawn.

“Has anyone got a corkscrew?” He calls out. Someone throws one to him. He opens the bottle, then calls, “and maybe a couple cups?”

Two plastic cups are handed through the crowd to him. They ask him to sign the corkscrew. He hands it back afterwards and shoves the cork in his pocket. Then he pours two glasses and hands one to you. Strawberry wine on a sidewalk in Monaco, in step with the man who won the Grand Prix. You’ve never had a stranger or better day.

He calls Louise when the club is in sight. “Yeah, just down the road. Uh-huh. No, bring everyone.” You hear Louise say something. “Well I don’t know, does the grandma want to come to the party?” He asks, quirking a brow at you. “Then bring her. Okay. See you soon, then. Oh- no, wait, Louise- she’s with me.” He reaches out and squeezes your upper arm lightly. The touch sends sparks shivering up your spine. “Yeah. Long story. Just meet us there, yeah?”

…..

It’s nearly Christmas, and you’re stressed. That might be an understatement, actually. The holidays are always stressful, plus a project at work that’s gone haywire, leaving you picking up the pieces. You wouldn’t even be at the party, too exhausted and so tired of people, if it wasn’t your last chance to see most of your friends before the holidays kick off. You’re leaving to spend time with your family soon. It’s one of the few things you’re looking forward to.

You wander through the party feeling a bit like a zombie. It’s Max’s apartment, with more people in attendance than your usual group. You bounce from friend to friend, always clinging to someone’s side, trying to avoid talking to anyone you don’t know, or anyone at all, really. You’re just socially exhausted.

Max finds you in the kitchen. He sweeps you under his arm into a quick side hug, and you force a smile when you look up at him. He sees right through it, frowning down at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, poking your cheek lightly.

You try harder to make the smile genuine. “Nothing! Why?”

He stares at you, tilts his head. “You’re lying.”

You shrug. “M’just tired.”

You can tell he doesn’t believe you. But someone asks him a question, and the friend you’ve glued yourself to is leaving the room, so you follow. You don’t see Max for a while. In fact, it’s been a suspiciously long amount of time. Somebody else has noticed and brings it up, asking where he’s gone off to.

“Oh, he ran to the store, I think. Didn’t say why.”

Someone suggests a drinking game. You make a break for the balcony. Jimmy is standing in front of the door, staring up at you.

“Jim,” you mutter, bending to pet him. “I know you’re gonna make a run for it the second I open the door.”

He meows at you, like he understands. You try to usher him towards Max’s bedroom, but he stays put. You sigh in frustration. In the living room, the noise kicks up another notch. When Max steps into the hallway, there are tears in your eyes.

“Did he scratch you?” Max asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut. “No. M’fine.”

Max clicks his tongue at you. You sigh, again. There’s a shuffling noise, and then you hear the sliding door open. Cool air hits your face. Max’s hands land on your shoulders and he leads you outside. You’re in socks, and the concrete is cold on your feet. You open your eyes and sit down on the patio couch. Max closes the door behind him and sits down next to you. It’s then that you notice the bottle of wine in his hand. Strawberry wine. You’d checked the fridge earlier- that bottle wasn’t there. So either he’s been hiding it, or… he ran to the store. Didn’t say why. Your throat feels tight.

He hands you the bottle carefully. He’s already opened it, but he neglected to bring any glasses. You shrug and tip the bottle to your lips. Sweet, sugary, room temperature wine washes over your tongue and you sigh.

“What’s going on?” He asks, gesturing for the bottle. He waits patiently as he takes a sip, too.

You huff and rub your cheeks with your empty hands. “Nothing, Max. I’m fine. There’s a whole party inside, I’m sure they’d love to play drinking games with you, so-“

“But I’m here with you,” he says patiently, voice soft. Your heart is cracking wide open in your chest. “Because I want to be. So tell me what’s going on.”

There’s so much to tell him that you don’t know where to start. It’s your family, it’s the traveling you’re about to do. It’s work, so stressful you wish you could just quit. It’s this awful feeling you can’t shake that maybe none of your friends really want you here. It’s Max, and the way your heart skips a beat when he looks at you. The way your stomach fills with butterflies when he touches you. The way he could have any girl in the whole world, and you’re just his friend. You curl your knees close to your chest and wrap your arms around them.

“I’m just stressed,” you admit, figuring that’s the easiest answer. “Work, and the holidays, and… just , everything. You know?”

He nods, passes the bottle of wine back to you. You take another drink. You study the label of it to try and keep yourself from crying in front of him. That would be embarrassing. That would scare him off. You rest your chin on your knee. Then you feel it.

Max’s arm, draping over your shoulders. The weight of him is heavy and steady and warm. He’s going to throw you into a tailspin with just that one motion. Then- like he doesn’t know how much he’s already affecting you- he presses his hand to your shoulder and pulls you against his side. Fuck. You’re not going to cry in front of him. You won’t do it. But Max doesn’t do hugs and cuddling, he’s not a touchy person, and yet he’s wrapping himself around you to hold you close.

You rest your head against his shoulder and take another drink of wine. He takes the bottle back and does the same. His hand sweeps up and down your upper back in a soothing motion, over and over again.

You’re not going to cry. You won’t. You close your eyes instead. You feel Max’s cheek against the top of your head. You won’t cry.

“Maybe after the holidays we should all go somewhere warm and relaxing,” he says. You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “I think we could all use a bit of a break, no?”

You nod against his chest. He squeezes your shoulder. If you keep your eyes squeezed shut, he won’t see the tears. You can’t cry in front of him. So you sit, blind to the world around you, your head pressed to his chest.

Later, you blink your eyes open to the sound of voices, feeling disoriented. Someone is saying something to Max, saying your name. And Max, his voice rumbling beneath your chest-

“-walk her home, or she can stay here,” he says. “I’ve got her, mate.”

The sliding door closes. You realize you’d fallen asleep. Your face heats up, unsure of if you should pretend you’re not awake or if you should pull away immediately. You’re still trying to decide when Max’s hand starts brushing up and down your back again. Your eyes slip closed. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath. No wonder you fell asleep.

Max shifts, squeezing your shoulder. “Schatje, time to wake up,” he whispers, close to your ear.

You sigh and pull away, sitting up to look at him. He keeps an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them. You’re too exhausted to find it in yourself to be embarrassed about falling asleep on him. Besides, he could’ve woken you up if he wanted to. He’s being a good friend.

“It’s late,” he says. You swear you’re imagining it when his hand comes up and his fingers brush against your cheek. “Do you want to sleep in the guest room?”

You nod.

In the morning, when you drag yourself out of bed, Max is gone. There’s a note on the counter. He had early morning training, and then a padel game. Didn’t want to wake you. Next to the note, there’s a bowl of strawberries. Sassy winds herself around your ankles. You smile and try to slow the beating of your heart.

…..

Max is standing in your empty apartment one night, the last of your friends to leave. You’re wandering through the living room, picking up cups and trying to pretend he isn’t watching you. When you try to walk by him and head for the kitchen, he grabs your hip.

You stop and stare. His eyes are boring into yours, wide and blue and soft. There’s a smile on his lips. You haven’t asked him yet why he’s still here, mostly because you don’t really want him to go. His hand is burning a hole in the fabric of your shirt where he’s holding onto you. You think if you look down, you’ll find flames licking up your side. But you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

His other hand sneaks up, and his fingers brush against the side of your face. It reminds you of the moment on his balcony, weeks ago now. You’re caught between wanting to let your eyes slip closed and never wanting to break his gaze.

You realize moments later he’s looking for some sort of confirmation from you. He’s waiting, though you’re not sure exactly what he’s looking for. In an act of blind, foolish courage, you take a step towards him and wind one of your arms around the back of his neck. Max sighs. You twist your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck.

Max is your friend. This could ruin everything. If this goes badly…

You take another step closer. You can hear his soft breaths. His fingers brush against your cheek- you swear you feel him tremble, just slightly, just enough for you to know. He wants this, but he’s scared, too. His heart is beating just as fast. His mind is racing just as fast.

When he kisses you, his lips taste like strawberry wine.

…..

Max is holding your hand on the sidewalk. He’s walking you home from a club you’d been at with your friends. You love him, but you haven’t told him yet. You’ve only just realized it that night, seeing yourself laugh in the bathroom mirror and then seeing the smile on his face when he looked at you.

Next to you, though you don’t know it, Max is having the exact same realization.

…..

“Can you grab my watch?” Max calls out from the kitchen. “In the bedside table, top drawer?”

You’re trying to resist the urge to tell him to find it himself. You’re horribly late to a dinner, this stupidly fancy dinner that has you second guessing every piece of clothing you put on. Max was no help, telling you that everything you tried on was perfect and beautiful and would look even better on his floor. You love him, but today, he’s driving you insane.

You stomp over to the bedside table and open the drawer. The box with his watch is sitting there, nestled in with other odds and ends. You pick up the box and almost close the drawer without even noticing. But something makes you pause and stare.

In the drawer there’s a little plastic tray, and it’s full of wine corks. You recognize the logo. Max is calling your name in the other room, something about hurrying up, but suddenly you don’t care about the stupid dinner. You’re thinking of that sidewalk stroll you took so long ago, the corkscrew he borrowed, the way he put the cork in his pocket. You’d thought it was to throw it away later.

He calls your name again, from the doorway. You reach into the drawer without turning around, running your fingers over the corks. He makes a noise and walks across the room to you, wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder.

“Did you save the all corks?” You ask, voice breathy.

Max nods, presses his lips to your bare shoulder. “All except the very first one. By the time I… when I went to grab it, it was gone.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. You turn around and press yourself into his arms and laugh. He’s staring down at you in bewilderment. He’s been driving you crazy all afternoon, he must think you’ve finally snapped.

“The first cork is in my jewelry box,” you tell him, and a laugh bubbles up between his lips, too. “I took it off the counter. I didn’t know why, at the time. Just felt like I should.”

You’re late to the dinner. Max makes an excuse. Nobody believes it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

…..

Some time later, there will be a moment. It won’t matter where you are, or what you’re doing. It will be you and Max, and you will look at him and the whole world will melt away. And the strangest thought will pop into your head.

Our friends are going to send us strawberry wine when we get engaged, you’ll think. And they will bring it to the wedding.

He’ll turn to you, like he’s heard your thoughts. He’ll smile, cheeks pink as the strawberry wine. At that same moment, he’ll be wondering if strawberry shortcake is an acceptable wedding dessert. Every time you taste strawberries, you’ll think back to the kitchen in his apartment. The wine you were supposed to hate. And Max, a smile on his face, glad to not be alone.

Someone sane is finally here, he’d said.

And then everything had changed.

Read part 3, Empty Space

p.s.: am I way too invested in this pairing? Probably. Have I already decided what their wedding song would be? Definitely.

p.s. again: ironically, it turns out both @vetteltea and I hate strawberry wine 🍓

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #am I way too invested in this pairing? maybe #have I already figured out what their wedding song would be? definitely #honeywrites #mv33 #AWMH #strawberry wine verse

1K notes · View notes

most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 9 months

Text

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before!#good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

753 notes · View notes

bangtanflirt · 8 months

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 7)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: none aside from what's in general warnings

____

You don’t want to wake up. It might be a new day, but yesterday’s fatigue still seeps into both your bones and brain, like a hangover without the fun of drinking. And it’s Saturday, which means you can’t sleep in until Yoongi leaves for work. You might have melted into his touch last night, but now that you’re a lot less hazy and emotional, the events of yesterday cause a resurgence of anxiety in your stomach. His last sentence rings crisp in your ear.

You’re my best friend.

Best friend yet he couldn’t have one proper conversation before berating you in front of everyone? Your fears keep growing and rumbling inside, fears that he does hate you, and that the only reason he’s sticking around is because of his mother’s bills—just like he stuck around for his old boss. Did he see you the same way he saw him? If he could work under someone like that for years and put up with it…what’s to say he wasn’t just putting up with you? Saying whatever he thinks you want to hear?

And there’s also Taehyung and Hoseok—getting mad at them feels equivalent to kicking a puppy. Well with Hoseok, you’re more disappointed than actually angry. You really wish he hadn’t lied like that, but your heart hurts thinking about how much he’s been through to get to that point.

All you want to do is stay in bed all day and avoid the aftermath of last night, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing until you hear the little knock at the door.

“It’s unlocked” you mumble, rolling over to see who it is and what excuse you have to make to not leave your bed. In peaks a mop of light brown hair, timidly walking in wearing a rather messy apron.

“I made breakfast, everyone else is at the table already.” It’s not the chipper tone he had yesterday morning, but rather a jittery one.

“I’m not in the mood to eat.” You pull the covers up, hinting for the boy to leave. But he stays right there, making tiny noises with his feet as he nervously shuffles from one foot to the other. You pull the cover down to raise a brow at him.

“I said I wasn’t hungry Jimin.”

“W-we just want one last meal with you…please.”

“Last meal? What are you talking about?”

He looks like he’s ready to cry at any moment. “We all know you want us gone as soon as possible…a-and we don’t blame you! Just one last meal before the shelter, please?”

Shit, you’re going to have to get out of bed after all.

___

It’s clear everyone uneasy around you, dodging eye contact as you sit at the table. Yoongi’s the only one who meets your gaze, but now you’re the one looking down at your omelet instead. It’s clear whatever was “resolved” last night was a just temporary band aid for a much deeper wound.

“This isn’t working. Things need to change.”

They wolves nod half-heartedly, knowing exactly where this is going.

“You guys can’t just assume that I’m going to ship you off to some shelter the second I’m mad. It makes me feel like I can’t even be angry without scaring you, and that’s not fair. I should be able to be upset without feeling like the asshole here.”

It takes a few seconds of mechanical nodding before your words actually sink in, causing them to look up and around in shock, mentally asking each other if they heard that right.

“We can stay? Even after last night?” The Alpha has to hear you explicitly say it before his packmates get their hopes up.

“Yes Namjoon. No one’s going to any shelter, even after last night. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad at Taehyung, because I am. That book was very important to me, and he shouldn’t have been so careless,”

The guilt is still fresh on the wolf’s face, and it’s clear he wants to apologize again, but the words are stuck in his throat.

“and Hoseok, no more lying. Whatever’s on your mind, you have to be honest and let us help you.”

“Yes, absolutely! I-I’ll be honest. I’ll be good!”

“You don’t have to be good. You’re not being evaluated here. No one’s sending you away for being ‘bad,’ but rather we all need to be accountable for when we mess up. That’s how things work here, everyone clear?”

All six hybrids are quick to respond, each feeling lighter after knowing that this isn’t their last day here. It’s Namjoon who your words leave the deepest impression on, the word accountability being played over and over again. It’s a word he likes. Punishment is for pets, but accountability? That’s for people.

Taehyung’s thoughts could not be more different.

Punishment is familiar. He knows how to bite down and stay still with each hit, knows how to cope with the binder clips on his tongue, knows how to huddle up and ration warmth every time he’s locked in the time-out room, but he has no clue how to do what you’re asking of him. He probably knew before the lab, right? But those memories feel like years ago, even if it’s only been a few months. All that’s really clear in his head are the commands and the punishments, and he wishes for nothing more than for you to toss him in your wine cellar with no food for a week. He doesn’t say anything though, not wanting to ruin the mood now that everyone else can finally breathe around you again.

“This omelet is heavenly. I’ve never had one seasoned in this way. What’s in it?”

Jimin beams at the mention of his omelet, listing off spices and vegetables at the speed of lightning.

“It’s actually Jin hyung’s recipe! Hyung, tell her how you came up with it!”

The oldest’s ears go red at the attention, and he laughs shyly before telling you of his experimenting ways in the kitchen. Your little praises in between only cause the redness to deepen, until his ears are the same color as the tomatoes diced into today’s breakfast.

It’s once again Jimin and Jin getting the attention. Getting to talk to you, be praised by you, and not have to spill eight thousand apologies. Caretaker hybrids who don’t mess up every task they’re given. Suddenly the omelet is leaving a bitter taste in Taehyung’s mouth.

___

“I want to apologize again.”

You let him in, closing the door.

“I just really wish you would’ve talked to me before jumping to conclusions. Did you really think I was capable of that…in the two years that you’ve known me?”

“I just—I didn’t know he could lie. Didn’t know it was possible with all those fake hormones in him…thought he had to be honest all the time or some shit like that…so I lost my temper, and I know how wrong it was of me. I really am sorry y/n.”

“If what you said was solely about me and him then maybe I could have chalked it up to some big misunderstanding, but that’s not all that happened, and you know it. The shit you said about servants and yes-men…being tired of coddling me…I know those words came from somewhere inside of you. That’s what hurts.”

He combs his fingers through his hair in frustration, saying nothing. The longer he’s silent…the more your anxieties turn into rage, defense systems on high alert.

“Oh, so I’m right? Spit it out.”

“Y/n.”

His eyes are pleading for any way out of this conversation, but you’re not having any of that today.

“No, say it. Go ahead, stop coddling me, as you’ve been doing all this time apparently.”

He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath before looking at you again, room silent enough to hear both of your hearts beating.

“Going to work yesterday…everyone was in such a good mood. It was the first time since I’ve began working at Shin Investments where the atmosphere felt so…light?”

You wish you hadn’t asked. In fact, you wished he rather punched you in the gut than say what he just said.

“I already know everyone at work hates me, Yoongi. Might as well bring my grandmother’s book back out if today’s all about rubbing salt on existing wounds.”

“It’s not about that y/n. I’m not trying to hurt you, but you need to hear it from someone. The way you act at the office…it puts everyone on edge. And no I don’t think it’s wrong when it’s the board members we’re talking about, because I know how sleazy and cunning they can be. But the receptionists? The interns? The wait staff at the office restaurant? All the people that are just trying to do their jobs? What about all the times you’ve humiliated them? Or worse, fired them right on the spot for one thing you didn’t like?”

You can’t help but cross your arms, needing to feel protected in some way, even if it’s only words attacking you.

“Do you think I like being the bitch? You of all people know I don’t go home and laugh after making someone else cry. I thought, because of your old job at least, that you’d understand to some extent. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy. I’m stressed every day about my father coming out of retirement, or someone on the board becoming the major stockholder, or five hundred other things that could go wrong. So I’m very fucking sorry if I need to play the bitch to keep things under control.”

“I don’t know if that excuse is enough anymore.” It’s barely a whisper, more to himself than you.

God you just want to be swallowed by the carpet right now.

“What?”

“It isn’t enough. It used to be, because yes I did do shitty things under my old boss and yes I thought I had no right to judge anyone else because of that, but I got out of there y/n. At some point I stopped making excuses and feeling sorry for myself and got out of there because I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. And I know you can do better, that you can change too.”

“You…you don’t get it…”

You don’t get that the second I let my guard down, they’ll all jump at me like piranhas. I can never be the soft, sweet person you think you can fix me into.

“and honestly you shouldn’t even be working for me anymore. It’s more obvious than ever that you do hate me, so just turn your resignation letter to Minhyun and move out of here. The less of me you see the better.”

You’re about to open the door to make him leave, but a hand on your shoulder halts you.

His gaze is softer, as is his voice. “I’m not going anywhere, not away from the company or you.”

“If this is about your mom’s bill—”

“It’s not. I don’t hate you, and I do think of you as my best friend. Which is why I want us to figure this out together instead of running away from it. Look, I’m not saying you can’t be mad at me. I know I deserve it for blowing up the way I did, and I’m going to keep apologizing and making it up to you until you forgive me. But the things I’m saying right now, it’s because I care about you…a lot.”

___

Accountability.

The word completely fills Taehyung’s brain as he paces a hallway in god-knows-what part of the ginormous house. Searching by scent is what finally gets Namjoon to track down the fretting wolf. Taehyung doesn’t even notice, too busy letting his anxiety gnaw away at him. It’s only when Namjoon blocks his pathway does the younger wolf look up.

“Oh, hi hyung.”

“Hi Tae,” he looks down past the hybrid’s face, “oof, let me see those hands.”

Taehyung shamefully puts his hands up for his Alpha to take in,

“I told you biting your claws isn’t a good habit.”

“Sorry Alpha.”

He flashes a warm smile, dimples working overtime to try to soothe his packmate’s nerves.

“It’s alright pup. I know how stressed you are.”

“I just—I just don’t know how to fix the mess I’ve made, and I want to burst out crying every time she looks at me now, but I can’t because I don’t want her to think I’m trying to get out of it by crying either. I just don’t know what to do.”

Namjoon pulls Taehyung in, tucking the wolf under his chin.

“You’re not alone in this. I’ve been thinking about different ways you could make it up to her, and I think I know one. It’s not perfect, but it might make her less angry. And it involves something you love to do.”

Taehyung pulls back to look up, brows raised all the way up in curiosity. Namjoon wastes no time in coming up with the game plan, telling Taehyung exactly what materials he needs to gather and what he needs to do. He watches fondly as the younger wolf’s expression becomes much more cheerful, hope coming back into his eyes.

“That might actually work! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!”

He doesn’t forget to plant one kiss on his Alpha’s cheek before running away excitedly to start his task.

“Careful! Don’t run!”

Namjoon can’t help but laugh at the way Taehyung only barely slows down.

Okay, one down. One more to go.

He knows his conversation with Hoseok isn’t going to end in smiles, because he has no solution to offer his hyung. Only apologies. The wolf is sitting out in the garden, zoned out in front of your flowers, when Namjoon’s presence pulls him back. He takes a seat too, taking a moment to admire the flowers before speaking up.

“I owe you an apology.”

It’s clear that’s not what Hoseok is expecting to hear.

“You do?”

Namjoon nods, “I haven’t been doing the best job at being your Alpha lately.”

“That’s ridiculous, you’re the best Alpha our pack could have.”

“I’m not talking about the pack, hyung. I’m talking specifically about you. I haven’t been the best Alpha to you. You were hurting all alone and didn’t even feel like you could tell me the truth, and I know it’s my fault. You always seem so…put-together…so self-sufficient y’know? A lot of the time I just let you do your thing and focus on the other members instead. But I see how wrong that is of me. You need to be taken care of just as much as Taehyung or Jimin or anyone else, and I’m going to make sure that happens from now on.”

“I’m sorry too, for lying, and for bottling everything up. I know it’s hard to be my Alpha, I’m not the best at showing when something’s wrong the way the rest of them are. It’s really not your fault though.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

The two stay on the bench for a while, eyes darting between every bee that the flowers draw in.

___

“It’s Jungkook. Can I come in?”

He opens the door at your approval, taking in your distressed features.

“Um, I can come back later.”

“No no, I’m fine. I was just answering some difficult work emails,” you lie through a smile, “What did you want to see me about?”

He pauses to fish something out of his pocket, looking victorious when he holds up his little notepad.

“I finished Extraordinary Attorney! I wanted to fill you in like you asked!”

If there’s anything that can even remotely soothe your hurting heart, it’s the sight of an excited Jungkook flashing his more-bunny-than-wolf teeth.

“Now’s the perfect time, come, sit.” You motion next to you and he wastes no time cuddling up to your side, bursting with excitement to tell you every plot point. He walks you through everything: dancing through revolving doors, an extensive history about whales, and a handshake he insists you try with him. You don’t even notice two hours pass as you’re laughing and invested the whole way through.

“Thank you darling. I really needed this.”

He preens at the nickname, snuggling closer into you.

“Hard day?”

“Yeah, and it’s only eleven a.m.”

“Is it because of Tae and Hobi hyung?”

“More about Yoongi if I’m being honest.”

“I didn’t like the way he spoke to you last night.”

“That makes two of us. But I prefer it to what he said today.”

Jungkook sits up, eyes wide, “He was meaner today?”

“No, just said some things I really didn’t want to hear.”

“Well if you need him to, Namjoon hyung can beat him up for you.”

You throw your head back laughing, the statement even funnier due to his completely serious, deadpan delivery.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

___

He has to be in one of these rooms.

You open one door after another, making your way around from one side of the mansion. You haven’t seen Taehyung since breakfast, and it’s already 4pm now. Namjoon had assured you he was fine when you questioned why he wasn’t at lunch, saying he’d be eating alone today as he had something to do. But what could he possibly have to do? You can’t help but think he’s bawling his eyes out in one of the spare rooms, feeling too bad to eat or talk to anyone. Yes, you want him to have some sort of remorse for what he did, but the thought of him being miserable brings you no satisfaction.

You’re about to check another room when Namjoon quickly makes his way over, putting himself between the door and you.

You give a questioning look, “Is Taehyung behind that door?”

“Yes, but please don’t go in.”

You examine his face, becoming even more confused. There’s no concern in his eyes, making you think the caretaker hybrid isn’t crying on the other side of the door.

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise. Could you trust me on this? Please?”

He knows it’s a risky ask. You could easily laugh at his face, making it clear that humans and hybrids operate on commands and obedience, not trust. There’s nothing stopping you from giving a direct command for him to open the door right now.

You mull it over in your head, concluding that if Taehyung was in any sort of trouble, Namjoon would look much more stressed right now.

“Alright. I won’t ask.”

The Alpha can’t help the little smile that peaks through. He can’t help but feel as if he’s being a little greedy, pushing the boundaries of what autonomy you’ll allow him to have—but it’s so tempting to desire more, especially thinking back to how different things were at the lab.

Instead of turning around to leave, you decide to ask him to come out with you. You need some fresh air, but being alone with your thoughts is not something you’re sure you can handle at the moment.

“Do you want to take a walk with me? It’s not a command so feel free to say no.”

His face lights up instantly, “I’d love to. It’s a really nice day.”

The two of you make your way over, making a quick stop at your closet where you remember the new jackets you’d bought for them. You pull out a long maroon one, perfect size for the tall wolf. In another life, he would’ve been a model with legs that long. You smile as he checks himself out in the mirror, really feeling the outfit it seems. Just as you’re about to reach for the front door, a timid Jin stops both of you.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Just out for a walk.”

He looks at you with concern, so you elaborate.

“We won’t take long, and Yoongi’s here if you need anything.”

“It’s not that…”

There’s a moment of silence, neither you nor Namjoon understanding what the problem is.

Until you follow Jin’s gaze…all the way to Namjoon’s neck.

Fuck.

You forgot one of the strictest hybrid laws:

Owned hybrids must be collared and leashed when out walking in public areas.

It seems Namjoon has this realization a couple seconds after you, face going from confident glow to despondency in a second.

It’s a crisp wake-up call. A reminder how stupidly naive his dreams of becoming independent all are.

At the end of the day, I’ll always be seen as a pet.

“I…I forgot...I’m so sorry Namjoon. We don’t have to go.”

He shakes his head, “No, it’s fine. I’d still like to go.”

He tries to hide his disappointment as best as he can, standing firm. You shouldn’t have to be burdened with his feelings—an Alpha isn’t supposed to make anyone worry about him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you have a collar and leash?”

You nod, admitting to have the items makes you feel like you’re guilty of a heinous crime.

“I got them for each of you when I was shopping…just in case anyone wanted to go out.”

It’s the truth. The only reason you got them was after reading up hybrid laws, making sure to keep some in case they ever wanted to go outside. But that doesn’t mean it feels right saying it.

Namjoon shivers as you click the dark blue collar around his neck, contrasting stark against the white bandages underneath. You notice the way he stiffens as it’s on, but he assures you each of the twenty times you ask him if he wants it off. It doesn’t hurt against the wounds perse, more just uncomfortable friction. The real hurt is to his ego at the thought of being collared again.

At least this one doesn’t have needles. He tries to find the glass half full.

You miss the conversation Jin and Namjoon are having throughout the ordeal. It’s not with words, but rather their eyes. With Jin asking his packmate if he’s sure he’s okay, and the Alpha lying convincingly enough for Jin to drop the subject.

___

It’s clear you’ve never done this before with the awkward way you’re holding the leash. If you’re feeling this way, you can’t imagine how much worse it is for Namjoon—how humiliating it would feel to be walked out in public in this way. You’re trying to think of any solution, maybe wrapping your scarf on him and tucking the leash in under his jacket…but that would only make things worse. Namjoon is, as clear as day, a wolf hybrid, and there’s no doubt a fleet of cops would come at the slightest alert of a wolf who doesn’t look leashed.

The streets are relatively empty today, but the few people you do pass try to walk past Namjoon as quickly as possible.

“Thank you for coming out with me. I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

He gives a small smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes, “It’s okay. It’s not like you make the laws.”

The two of you walk silently for a while, both lost in your own thoughts while pretending to look around and appreciate the scenery. You’re the one who breaks the silence—quite abruptly.

“What do you do when your pack doesn’t listen to you?”

Namjoon looks caught off guard for a moment, before processing your question.

“I find the cause of why they aren’t listening. They aren’t the type to act up because they can. Once I figure out the reason, I can get them back in line.”

“They’re never too stubborn?”

“Not typically. They respect me and the hierarchy enough to know better,”

Inherent respect. Must be nice.

“but that’s just part of it” he goes on, “the main thing is that they know that everything I do is with their benefit in mind.”

He’s quick to notice the sour face you make at that sentence.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” you sigh “I just don’t think I’ve been doing that last part pretty well.”

It sucks to admit, but it is true that you can get a bit narrow in your focus when it comes to work—only thinking about how to benefit yourself.

“I don’t always get it right either. If it’s any consolation, you’re doing it pretty well when it comes to the pack and me. You’ve shown us more compassion in three days than we’ve seen in three months.”

Your eyes soften. It does console you a bit, reminding you that you are capable of compassion—that you aren’t a complete lost cause. You ask the next question plaguing your mind.

“Are there ever times when you have to lead them even though they aren’t happy with you?”

“Oh plenty of times. I’m constantly telling them things they don’t want to hear.”

“And when it feels like it’s all falling apart?”

“Then I have to change my approach.”

“What if you’re not the problem?”

He stops for a moment, bending down to admire a particularly beautiful flower in a patch of grass.

“Most things are my fault. No matter which packmate messes up, it can nine times out of ten be traced back to some way I failed to communicate with or lead them. And even when it’s not, I still need to step up. That’s just how it works when you’re trusted to be the Alpha.”

There’s a pregnant pause as you soak in his words, before letting out a frustrated groan.

“Leadership. That’s what you’re describing. And accountability. Can you believe I lectured you all about it this morning only to be so shit at doing it myself?”

“It sounds like you’re trying. You wouldn’t be asking me all this if you weren’t.”

“How do you know exactly what to say?”

“Lots of practice with five very different wolves” he smiles.

“You’re an amazing person Joon. I hope you know that.”

It’s almost overwhelming. Your sweet words, the loving nickname his pack uses, being called “person” instead of “mutt.” The collar and leash serve as a reminder of servitude and ownership, but the way you talk to him goes against everything they symbolize. Everything feels so conflicting. Will the two of you ever truly be equals?

____

A/N: My brain is kind of mush today so nothing more to say than I hope you're week is going well.

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

936 notes · View notes

the-crimson · 6 months

Text

I need everyone to understand that q!Tubbo, q!Bbh and q!Aypierre spent seven hours fighting a psychological war today and they lost… but it prevented both teams from dying and no one will ever know.

(All talk about character not ccs etc etc)

Tubbo wasn’t there during the egg battle so he doesn’t feel the betrayal and humiliation that the other two do. He looks at green team and sees his friends. People he cares about. He doesn’t want them to lose especially not like this! He’d made up his mind the moment he learned of the event. No one was going to die.

Aypierre looked at green team and saw the snakes who broke their promise to tie the previous challenge. Why would they agree to tie this time when they’ve already proven to be untrustworthy? They betrayed him. They humiliated him and his entire team. This was his opportunity for revenge. Why shouldn’t blue team take it?

Bbh is much more in the middle. He agreed with the premise of a tie because he wanted to give green a fighting chance. He had a gut feeling it wasn’t going to work but he was willing to try. However, he didn’t trust green either. The whole time he was paranoid about green logging in at the last minute to scrounge together the quests to beat them. He was constantly reminding the group to stay together so they couldn’t be killed in case green logged in. He did not trust green to keep to the deal but he was willing to try.

For the first five or so hours of the streams the three had too many conversations to count where Aypierre would try to convince them to just say fuck it and turn in their tasks. To break the tie and be done with it! But each time bbh and Tubbo manage to hold him back and keep to the plan. It was only when bbh and Aypierre were in green’s secret base standing in front of green’s merchant that Aypierre finally caved and turned in his missions.

This was one battle lost. The next was Aypierre and Tubbo pulling bbh in two different directions and Tubbo choosing to give Green the quest items to rebalance the score. Two different battles that culminated in the single decisive moment of bbh claiming all of his missions. But what happened leading up to that moment? Chaos.

Various members of green team were logging in and out for the next two hours which only fueled bbh’s paranoia even more. Aypierre was trying to convince him to just claim the tasks the games already over! While Tubbo was confident they could still tie the score. It all went to shit in the last fifteen minutes.

Bbh and Aypierre discovered the quest items were gonna from the chest and Tubbo was lying to them about where he was. Tubbo made an executive decision to try and balance the score knowing the other two were too on the edge and chaotic at the moment. They’d discussed potentially giving green some items to tie the score but this was never agreed to and bbh and Aypierre had no idea what Tubbo was giving them.

They arrive at the center and the score starts changing and bbh starts panicking. Aypierre calls Tubbo a traitor for going behind their back and bbh is trying to mediate and figure out what’s going on - what did Tubbo do? Tubbo doesn’t explain fully so bbh assumes he gave both ElQuackity and Roier the quest items. Then Mouse logs in and bbh’s paranoia goes into overdrive. Did green have the items stockpiled and ready for Mouse to turn them in to sweep the victory last second? It’s happened twice before so it’s not out of the question. Bbh looked at the being Coco that acted so much like his son and asked, and it told him to cash in the quests. So he did.

At this point, everything was pure adrenaline. All bbh was thinking was save Dapper. “Run over anyone you need to to win”. If it ended as a tie or if blue won, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he could not LOSE.

All three of blue fought so incredibly hard today it’s incredible. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ccs aren’t completely emotionally exhausted. Aypierre gave into his revenge after fighting it for nearly five hours straight. Bbh gave into his paranoia after fighting it for SEVEN HOURS straight. Tubbo gave into his need to do the right thing at any costs by going behind his team’s back which lead to the miscommunication that lead to that pivotal moment.

Blue failed today. They fought an internal war for seven hours and they lost at the very last moment. But in so doing, they saved their entire team. And they’ll never know. And no one will ever know. They will continue being the villains in this story even though no one on red or green knows what they went thought mentally today. None of them understand that it took seven hours of constant stress for them to break when they could have cashed the quests and secured victory within an hour.

In the end, Aypierre said it best “Either we win a fraud or die a villain.”

#qsmp #crimson speaks #if I see one more person say that bbh and Aypierre don’t respect Tubbo #and that Tubbo deserves better #or that he should join red team #I’m gonna lose it #todays conflict was so fricking insane #and I have 100% faith blue will come back together tomorrow and hash it out

303 notes · View notes

grenadine-grenades · 2 months

Text

Korra's Upbringing

In the Legend of Korra I noticed that they only mention the way Korra was raised primarily in passing. Making remarks about how Korra grew up very isolated and not knowing anything about the outside world. It was always presented as ‘oh yeah the White Lotus never let me have friends my own age because I had to focus on training’ I think we just gloss over how traumatic Korra’s upbringing had to be.

When she goes to Republic City for the first time she immediately gets into trouble because she doesn't know you need money to buy things, she thinks everyone already knows she's the Avatar, and she basically doesn't know how the outside world works. It makes me wonder what the White Lotus was teaching her in the compound. Was she just focusing in on bending all the time? I'd assume that if you were going to isolate the Avatar from the rest of the world you'd at least keep them up on current events, political affairs, and teach them basic manners and customs in case of diplomatic meetings.

Along with the fact that no one knows or cares that Korra is the Avatar when she goes to Republic City. This could be explained by the fact that the Red Lotus tried to kidnap Korra when she was younger, but that would probably be world wide news considering that people know who the Red Lotus are. She'd also probably have to leave the compound at some point to give her opinion on world affairs when the time came to it.

What were the White Lotus's intentions with Korra? Were they going to let her out of the compound at some point or just make her stay only letting her leave when they decided that the Avatar's impute would be useful. It honestly comes up as a really messed up situation all around especially when you look at the way Korra acts around people.

She hasn't interacted with anyone her own age except maybe her cousins but Korra never really got along with them. It's why her relationships with Mako, Bolin, and Asami are so messy at first.

SHE. DOESN'T. KNOW. HOW. TO. INTERACT. WITH. PEOPLE!

I honestly think that the air of confidence that Korra puts on is something to compensate for the fact that she's an overall insecure and awkward teen girl. Like literally she thinks the first guy she likes is her soulmate.

Korra in the beginning

While I am one of Korra's biggest defenders I feel that Korra's upbringing largely informs why she is the way she is. When we first meet Korra she is a sheltered, hotheaded, and naive teenage girl who expects things to come easy to her. This makes her come off as spoiled and overzealous, jumping head first into the conflict with the equalists while only getting a surface level briefing of who they are and what they are trying to do (take away bending). Korra doesn't take the equalists that seriously thinking she can just hack and slash her way into stopping them, it's only until she is challenged then defeated by Amon does she really start being cautious.

Korra is at her best when she is challenged on a level other than purely physical fighting. While Korra is shown to be a strong fighter she is up against people who will kill her the second she shows any weakness. She doesn't hesitate but doesn't properly assess the situation she's in, like when she publicly challenged Amon she didn't truly realize how truly dangerous the threat she was up against was.

Korra really in the beginning a half-baked Avatar. She developed her own opinions on who the Avatar should be and it caused her fail again and again. It's only when she gets rid of the preconceived notions she had in her head is when she finally succeeds.

Later in the show she changes for the better becoming more calm in her approach to conflict. She’s still hotheaded but ends up learning from her mistakes.

#not me just airing out my opinions #tv review #legend of korra #this is just an incoherent mess #this is awful but enjoy #gonna end up adding more to this later

150 notes · View notes

denwritesandcries · 3 months

Text

The Wilderness Wants Us To (Kiss) – YJS

Pairing: poly!yellowjackets x fem!reader

Summary: Have you ever experienced all kinds of weirdness since the plane crashed months ago, so why the weirdest thing so far is it seems like all the girls are suddenly courting you?

Or, a series of kisses between you and your dear football team.

Word count: 4,6k.

Content: cursing, kisses, fluff, suggestive, angst if you blink, slightly dark, intoxication, the doomcoming, the wilderness but nobody has been eaten (yet).

A/N: They’re all weirdos in a romantic, toxic and codependent way.

English is not my first language.

Your life has stagnated into a familiar routine since the plane crash. To clean. Hunt. Eat. Exist. Survive. Doing the same chores in the cabin, the usual hunting trip, seeing the same faces every day, not dying of hunger. Not dying of boredom.

Nothing really seems to change other than the cultish trends that your friends seem to be slowly embracing, so if something different happens, you notice it immediately.

Once is an incidence.

Two, it could be a coincidence, but there are no coincidences in the wilderness.

Three is a pattern. That exists in the wilderness.

And the fourth is proof that there is definitely something weird going on – if you even have a sense of what is normal or not –, something that you have no idea what it is, but you know it’s there.

There's something wrong with your teammates. I mean, there's something wrong with all of you, but that's different even for them.

The thing is that you, thinking that maybe it was just in your head, only realized that you weren't imagining anything after the fifth time it happened and now that you know you can't stop thinking about it. Events keep coming back to you from times when this has happened before and you never connected the pieces.

You didn't notice at first, of course you didn't. Physical affection was becoming more common and normal between all of you every day and also because it was Jackie, the captain of your team, and physical affection on Jackie's part was already completely normal even before the plane crashed. She liked to pat you on the shoulder and hug you goodbye after classes and parties – as if she hadn't spent the day barking orders at everyone during practice, but it's Jackie and you really like her a lot, so it's okay –, you could always see her clinging to Shauna's arm, if not hers, then whoever was closest to replace her for a few minutes. Jackie likes to touch and you know it.

Receiving affection from her is like second nature, so you don't even blink when, on yet another boring and lazy afternoon, you give Jackie her old walkman, now repaired and working, and get a kiss as a thank you.

It was a silly treat to make her smile, just because she seemed so sad lately that it made you sad too. She squeals loudly and excitedly, before wrapping her arms around your neck and placing a kiss on your cheek.

She immediately runs off somewhere saying she was going to test it and show it to Shauna, completely abandoning the task of pretending to chop wood so you can complete it.

You only process what just happened when you hear a giggling coming from nearby, because of course Jackie would kiss you in front of your younger colleagues. One of them points at your cheek provocatively and you lift a hand to your face to feel the texture of pink and shiny lipstick marking your skin. Of course, silly you not to assume that Jackie Taylor wouldn't stop wearing makeup just because of some plane crash.

Whatever, you thought, not bothering to clean the mark. Jackie is sweet. She does things like that all the time, obviously you wouldn't think there's anything weird about it. It wasn't even the first time she kissed you. Kisses on the cheek were a thing long before you left civilization.

You only wipe the stain from your face, in a short and hasty gesture, when you return to the cabin and Mari makes one of her smart comments about it, because there really was no big deal, but the provocation still makes you a little nervous.

(Jackie wears lipstick a lot more often after that, even though she's quickly running out of the only one she has left, but you don't say anything. It would be really weird to imply that you noticed her lips that much. Which you didn't do, no way.)

The second time it happens shouldn't have left you as perplexed as it did, after all everyone knew that Shauna Shipman was never far behind Jackie in the things she did, but it didn't pass through your head that she would kiss you. It was Shauna. Even though she was never rude, you weren't really close and it was embarrassing to admit that you found her a little intimidating. She had a tendency to stare in silence for a long time, which made you avoid conversations whenever you could.

Well, it wasn't a kiss-kiss since it wasn't actually on the mouth, but seeing as you weren't expecting it at all, it could have been. You're learning that reading Shauna is much more complicated than it seems, making it difficult to know if what awaits you is a punch, a bite, or – the most recent discovery – a kiss.

It happened because of the thing that seemed to drive your little society: meat. Because the food was almost running out and no matter what you and Natalie brought, it seemed like there would never be enough. And Shauna was hungry. Painfully hungry.

She always seemed to get hungry more quickly than the others, craving meat with an almost drunken need and you didn't quite understand why, even though you had noticed this detail some time ago. So when you and Nat are seen arriving back at the cabin carrying a deer, a big deer, Shauna practically runs up to the two of you, basically ripping the antler out of the blonde's hands and making you stumble to follow her back to the meat house.

You offer to help her just out of politeness and how rushed she seems, without expecting a positive response since it was common knowledge that Shauna preferred to work alone.

However, she nods her head enthusiastically as she hands you a knife and you swear you've never seen someone look so happy to slit an animal's throat alongside someone else.

When the task is done, you end up at the door with a full tray ready to be prepared for dinner back and Shauna is right behind you, with that same enthusiasm and silent yearning. It's a little unnerving, but at least she's not staring at the back of your head like she's trying to burn you like she usually does. You guessed any progress was welcome.

You just didn't expect it to progress to Shauna pulling you by the elbow to face her and tilting your face towards hers. You're so startled by the sudden touch that you only feel your face heat up as hot, wet lips meet the corner of your mouth when Shauna pulls away, taking the tray from your hands as if it weighed nothing and continuing on her way, muttering a quiet and embarrassed “thank you” over her shoulder.

You stood there like an idiot, feeling your bottom lip and part of your cheek tingle where she touched you just a moment before.

So Shauna kissed you. Okay. Nice. Maybe she was just very grateful and very hungry. Twice, coincidence. Nothing more than that.

Right?

(Shauna looks away from you when she's caught staring at that night, which never had happened, but you attribute her red face to the fact that you're sitting by the fire.)

The third time is the one that makes you go “okay, maybe that's a thing now,” because apparently the kisses have nothing to do with Jackie-Shauna or simply gratitude – at least not entirely – and much more to do with the fact that it's you.

Which actually doesn't make much sense. Van and Taissa are together, why would either of them feel the need to kiss someone else? Why would they both feel? And why you? It's true they haven't told anyone yet, but you know. It's a little hard not to notice when they both disappear at the same time into the forest or behind the cabin so often, but still. You don't kiss other people when you're committed. It's a principle, damn it.

Anyway, it's starting to get cold, you think there's just over two months left until winter arrives, maybe less, which makes tasks much more complicated and annoying to do. Especially when it comes to washing clothes.

Luck – Mari's damn shuffle – decided that you, Tai and Van would be the ones to do the laundry this time and the three of you dragged yourselfs grumbling and complaining to the lake, carrying piles of clothes in your arms.

Now, of all the things you have to do around the cabin, scrubbing clothes in cold running water is probably the one you hate the most. Cold, wrinkled hands, chills running down your spine, ew. The fact that Van and Tai went with you makes things at least a little less boring, with the redhead happily filling the silence, her silly jokes making the task almost bearable to accomplish. Almost.

“Ugh,” You groan for what feels like the thousandth time in the last hour, “We’re gonna end up catching a cold like this.”

“You definitely will, if you keep annoying me like this,” Tai replies, swinging her arm towards you, cold water splashing in your arms, “I'm gonna push your dramatic ass into the river, I'm warning you.”

The drops make another chill run through your body, so just for the audacity, you straighten up and let your body fall against hers with the most done expression you can muster in a few seconds.

Tai screams your name indignantly when a wet t-shirt slips out of her hands and falls straight to the ground, but you don't pay much attention when lets out a loud and exaggeratedly long sigh, hearing Van’s laugh as she watches the scene.

And Van, wonderful, too sweet for her own good, Van, decides to finally take pity on your little show – maybe you really were spending too much time with Jackie – and finish what you had left of your part of the pile and you would definitely have jumped in her arms and kissed her for it, if you weren't, you know, in front of her girlfriend.

It turns out that blinking your eyes and sighing doesn't work as well for you as it does for Jackie, because as soon as you get ready to go back, bending down to pick up the heavy basket full of clothes, a familiar hand pushes your chest.

“Shit, Taissa!”

“I said I would do it, didn’t I?” She stands in front of you, hands on her hips and one eyebrow raised as she watches your form lying, shaking and soaking wet at the river's edge.

Van's laugh doesn't bring you that rush of happiness from moments before, since now you're sure that she only decided to help you because she knew what Tai was going to do anyway. That little shit.

You walk past them with the basket in your hands, a trail of water in your wake and a frown on your face.

The way back is completely silent, except for the sound of your fast breathing in your rush to get there and warm up and the girls' requests for you not to get upset over a silly joke. Whatever. You won't say a word to them no matter what they do.

“Oh, come on,” Van wraps an arm around your neck, “We didn’t want to make you so upset, right Tai?”

Tai moves closer, her shoulder brushing against yours, but you remain quiet regardless, even if your willpower to remain upset wanes a little.

“Right” she agrees, sounding very unconvincing, “What can we do to make it up to you?”

“We are so sorry,” Van reiterates, blinking innocently.

Your only response is a noise from your throat that sounds a lot like a petulant mumble and you feel the look they exchange over your shoulder.

And then Van's arm brings you closer and there are lips on either side of your neck. You freeze, breath hitches.

It's not fast like the other ones, but long and drawn out as if it's trying to prove you. A shiver runs down your spine and the baby hairs on the back of your neck stand up, even though you swear it's just because your skin is still damp from the fall. You can feel Van's hair tickling your face and Tai's breath is warm against your chin.

You blink and Van is walking away with a wolfish smile on her lips, whistling absentmindedly and Taissa has the basket you were carrying in her own arms.

“Aren’t you coming?” Van turns when she notices you still standing and Tai arches an eyebrow, as if to say 'so?' and you stumble after them.

“...Sure, whatever!” You stutter, face as red as your goalie’s hair, “But if I get sick, that’s on you!”

“You won’t!”

You return to the cabin with your head down, but for a completely different reason this time. You feel weird, embarrassed, even with your friends walking calmly beside you. It feels weird to just call them friends too.

(Three times – or was it four? It's a pattern. Definitely a pattern.)

You do, in fact, get sick and the fifth time feels more like a fever dream than anything.

Seriously. You survive a plane crash without any serious injuries, but a flu is what knocks you out. You end up in the attic, with a heavy chest, incessant sneezing and a high fever that won't let you sleep.

And of course, Misty Quigley hovering over you like a hawk.

In fact, all your friends seem to be hovering over you in an overprotective way these days, which might not be strange considering the situation, but other people in the group have gotten sick before, including the younger ones, and none of them have reacted like this.

Van and Tai spent the entire time staring like kicked puppies from across the room until Misty kicked them both downstairs so you could try to get some sleep. It wasn't doing much good, but the momentary tranquility was really aporeciated.

Misty has been with you the whole time since your fever started and you let her ramble happily while she plays nurse, putting damp cloths on your forehead and helping you drink hot tea, even though you insist you're well enough to do so. She seems very happy to be helpful, so you let her spoil you as much as she wants.

You turn over on the cold floor, wrapping the blankets tighter around you as you sneeze again and Misty sits next to you, but there's nothing she can do at the moment to make you better, so she stays still, looking nervous and pushing her glasses on the tip of the nose with her fingers.

You think about how she seemed to have looked with longing and something that might have been envy when Jackie ran her hand through your hair in the morning before going outside with Shauna after leaving you another blanket. She looked the same when Lottie rubbed your shoulder gently and spent time by your side throughout the afternoon, leaving what appeared to be a half-cut crystal near where your head rested. It's just like she wanted something, but didn't know what or if she could do it. You don't know exactly what too.

Your ears ring and you think about your teammates, your friends and kisses. Four kisses on three occasions. Things that didn't happen before, but apparently happen now and that follow a strange pattern. You wonder who will be next to follow it.

You do what you do next in the fog of sleep and fever, because you'll never be able to actually sleep if you don't have a proper place to rest your head. It has nothing to do with the possibility opened in your last thought.

Her legs are soft under the blue and yellow shorts she wears when you crawl around and rest your head on them and it's certainly much more comfortable than the floor.

“Talk,” You mumble, clearing your throat at the hoarse voice.

“What?” She squeaks and you can tell it caught her in surprise by the way her eyes roam over your form, unsure of what she just heard and what's going on.

Misty is clearly alarmed, arms raised above her body as if she's afraid to touch you, her glasses falling onto the tip of her nose again as she looks down to face you, blonde curls falling across her face.

“What– What are you doing?” She asks.

“Weren’t you saying something about Plato?” You hold back a yawn as you fix yourself on her lap, ignoring her question completely, “Come on, keep going.”

She seems to ponder for a second, jaw dropped in confusion, but you don't move, so she picks up where you assume she left off. After a few minutes listening with your eyes closed, you feel her soft hand rest hesitantly on your back, running her fingers up and down when you don't protest.

You let out a sigh when you finally manage to relax, her voice calming the ringing in your ears a little and when you squint your eyes, Misty seems perfectly satisfied.

That's it, you think, that's what she wanted then.

Your body still has sporadic chills, but you feel like falling asleep, having lost track of how much time has passed with Misty talking to the walls about whoever the philosopher of the moment is. Your head feels heavy, you can barely keep your eyes open. It's good not to be alone when you're like this.

You're not sure whether or not you imagine the cold lips against your warm forehead when you sleep, but it counts as success for your little test. Five.

(You only wake up the next morning, feeling much better and more energetic, even without remembering a single word you said to Misty, just having fallen asleep on her lap for a while. The way she blushes and laughs after that, staring and following you around whenever she can, says that she remembers it very well. Coach Ben gives you a look full of sympathy when he sees her clinging to your arm, which you don't quite understand.)

The sixth time happens in the middle of the forest. It's windy, sun almost down, with Natalie walking beside you. It's the most peaceful moment you've had in your life in weeks, and it's also the moment you realize that maybe there's something wrong with you as much as the rest of the team.

Nat is talking, complaining about how Travis – the closest thing she'll have to a boyfriend in this place – is mad at her. He won't hunt or talk to her, much less touch her.

That's why you're following her, actually, the hunting part. You don't have much sense of your place in the group compared to the others, doing a little bit of everything when necessary, but Natalie seems to enjoy your company on these occasions, even if your aim with the rifle isn't as good as hers.

You spend so much time listening to her complain about mundane things like condoms and the flask of old booze she found in dead-mummified-guy's stuff that you feel the absurd urge to laugh. It's so strangely normal – except for the mummy part, but still.

Maybe that was what made you open your mouth after minutes of silence and broken snorts:

“So he can't get it up once and now he's mad at you? Damn Nat, if you need someone to make out that badly then I could help you with that.”

It comes out half as a mockery, half as truth, because that's what you do. Help people, fix things. But it's sarcastic, because it's just a stupid idea for Natalie to even consider.

Except she suddenly goes quiet and when you turn your head, she's looking at you. Eyes half-closed, mouth open, wanting.

When she kisses you, you're already waiting, longing for it, arms wrapping around you and pressing your body against the nearest tree. You think about how she was the only one who had the courage to chase your lips, to take what she really wanted.

The only thing you can feel is the weight of Nat's hands – cold, always so cold, even though winter is still a while away – on your hips, one sliding up your back to grasp the hair at the back of your neck, lips parting and tongue finding yours almost desperately and then you can't think about anything else but her. Natalie, who is much stronger than she looks and who also holds her own to stay sane in this place much better than anyone could imagine. Natalie, the bane of your existence and also your best friend. Natalie, who kisses like she hunts: with all the confidence her reputation demands.

If you close your eyes tightly and try hard, you can almost pretend you're at one of Lottie or Jeff's parties, listening to your friend complain about a stupid boyfriend, getting euphoric because she likes you better than the said stupid boyfriend.

And then she's pulling away, mouth swollen and hair completely messed up from where your hands had been placed. The moment ends and you come back to reality, picking up the rifle from where it was lying on the grass and looking around uncertainly. You guys didn't catch anything today. Food is running out.

You return to the cabin in complete silence.

(You don't see Natalie trying to talk to Travis after this, nor him with her, but you don't think she cares.)

You stopped counting after that, kisses and touches becoming a blur in your mind as the days pass and your worry increases. Whatever this is seems less important than what's happening at the moment: little food, few coats, winter approaching, a fucking baby coming.

However, it all comes back to them anyway, when you finally realize that you were right all along, that there really was something wrong with all of you and everything goes south quickly when someone decides to put mushrooms in the food.

It was an unspoken knowledge between you that the Yellowjackets would never be able to have a proper homecoming, so when the idea of a doomcoming came up in the conversation, even as a bad joke, you were one of the first to agree to it. A bittersweet goodbye sounded better than nothing.

You just didn't expect everyone to end up on drugs and acting like they were in some kind of cult. What did you miss that got you all to this point?

There is someone howling in the forest. Someone, not an animal. Or maybe they really were animals, given the way they're all chasing you now.

Just a moment ago you were genuinely enjoying the night, dancing with Ravi to Lottie's humming music and drinking fermented punch for who knows how long, even with a small feeling of being watched sent shivers down your spine at times. Then there was no sign of Ravi or Travis – nor Coach Ben, but he escaped somewhere in the woods with Natalie's canteen in his hand the second Misty's back was turned – and things started to get... confusing after everyone helped themselves to some stew.

Now there's someone howling in the forest and your head is spinning, hurried footsteps sound behind you as you end up back in front of the cabin after running in circles, a rabbit cornered by an entire pack.

Leaves are stuck in your hair, the hem of your dress is torn and covered in dirt, and you're sure you scraped one of your knees while running. There are also a bunch of dilated pupils focused on you.

Shauna is the first to approach, which surprises you so much that it gives the others time to do the same, big, sad, hazy brown eyes seeming to see deep into your soul.

“Why do you keep running away from us?” she asks, a pout that you can't tell if it's fake or not formed on her face, sliding a hand gently up your arm to your waist pulling you close and keeping her grip tight.

Jackie has her head cocked to the side and a smile painted red rather than pale pink like the first. She looks a little more composed than you'd expect, standing next to Shauna and bouncing in her step expectantly.

That was all it took to realize that you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to, melting against the scalding skin as if you had no problem getting burned.

“I'm not. I just… I don’t know what’s going on.”

The words came out slow and slurred on your tongue as if you didn't know exactly what you were referring to. This whole crazy night? Absolutely, but there are also so many other moments not recognized before.

You find yourself guided back to the cabin when you hear Lottie's voice in the background and Misty taking your hand to guide you. It all ends up there anyway.

You're unsure when you're placed in the pile of blankets and sheets on the floor, the lit fireplace warms the room like never before and there seem to be hands everywhere when Natalie enters your field of vision.

“I think you're a little too high right now, hun,” Nat scoffs, as if she's amused by your slowness.

You feel a laugh grow in your chest though you don't mean to, “You– you think so?”

“Yep,” she clicks her tongue, “The mushrooms hit hard.”

“Mushrooms!?” You let out a squeak of surprise when you're suddenly pulled back against someone's front, recognizing Taissa's nails scratching your back through your dress.

“Sorry,” Misty mutters disjointedly, tracing the lines of your palm like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

“What–”

You stop mid-sentence when you make a sound in the back of your throat as you feel Van's teeth graze the junction of your shoulder and neck, bright green eyes and a wolfish smile on her recently healed face. You knew right away who the hell was howling.

“Oh, come on,” Van echoes with the same provocation from the day in the lake, “Don't tell me you're afraid of It.”

“It?” Your breath hitches when a hand guides your head up and there she is.

Lottie Matthews looking down at you, an antler crown on her head that makes you slack-jawed and hazy looking, looking completely divine and you hesitate when you realize that the entire team has gathered around you, as if they were waiting for something. What the fuck is going on?

Lottie leans down to your level, face dangerously close to you, and you swallow hard when your eyes settle on her lips. She never kissed you, not like the others, something that always left a doubt in your head; an almost embarrassing curiosity to know what it would be like.

She meets your eyes with a malicious gleam, like she knows exactly what you're thinking and leans in a little more and just as you close your eyes to meet hers, hunger lips stray to your jaw.

“Lottie–” you squirm and the hands on your hips hold you tighter.

Nat silences you, running her fingers through your face provocatively while Lottie trails kisses down your neck, working her way down. Everything seems too stuffy, like you're melting at their touch.

“It's okay,” she reassures, cold, chapped lips finding your chest, teeth scraping the skin, “It wants us to, can't you feel It?”

You can't feel it, not really, you never understood this strange connection everyone seemed to feel with the wilderness that you didn't, but there are gentle hands caressing you, making you sink deeper and deeper and Lottie is finally kissing you, just like you wanted; lips stopping right over your heart, as if she wanted to devour it.

“Yeah,” you say, “I feel it.”

You're sure the cabin is on fire, but you're the only one who's burning.

#yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #van palmer x reader #taissa turner x reader #misty quigley x reader #shauna shipman x reader #jackie taylor x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets show #denwrites

396 notes · View notes

astoriasite · 3 months

Text

pairing: dom!mingi x fem!reader

warnings: some tension, a little aggression maybe (not sure) small argument and jealousy

genre: smut ofc

author's note: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

☆★☆★☆★☆☆★☆★☆★☆

Mingi was that kind of a guy who would watch you from afar. Not talking to you directly, just looking at you. Staring you down if you two got super close to each other, like if you two walked away from each other. And that happened a lot. Looking you up and down from the corner of the room where he would talk with his best friend, some guy named Yunho who would look at you the moment Mingi said something to him. Did he say something about you? Or were you just paranoid? Yeah, you were probably paranoid. You two know each other because of the same friend group, so it was only natural you two looked at one another so frequently. It was so obvious to your shared friends how frustrated you were getting when someone mentioned Mingi and the way he looks at you, assuming that he likes you. Of course, you stand up for yourself and immediately say - “Hell no! He’s being a creep, gawking at me all the time not saying anything. He’s just a weirdo.”

All of your friends would chuckle at your behavior when you get upset like this. It’s so obvious. Since the first time you first got introduced to him, his eyes were glued on you.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You said, extending your hand to shake his.

“I’m Mingi. The pleasure is mine.” He snakes his hand in yours, giving it a slight squeeze. Your own gaze can’t leave his, it’s like a magnet that attracts your attention to him. How are you going to keep yourself back?

And as you are standing in the corner of the crowded room with a drink in your hand,he’s not the one staring now. You can’t help but gawk at Mingi’s figure. His silver hair is styled so his eyes and face are visible, sitting on the sofa with his friends as his long legs stretch out as if the space is too little for him. The way he laughs, almost spilling his drink out from his cup, gets your attention easily. He looks so easygoing with his friends, talking with everyone and smiling at them. Surely, he is doing something right because there’s a girl clutching to his side like a koala and kissing his neck. He looks unbothered. So unbothered that you can’t even notice that. You only feel jealousy inside you. And for what? You two are not even together, let alone talked with him more then two words.

“Hey, wanna play beer pong with us? We need another couple.” Your best friend finally shows up, looking at you with pleading eyes. Before you could shake your head as a no, she grabs your hand and pulls you towards Mingi and his group. “Hi, does anybody want to play beer pong with us? We need one more person to pair up with Y/N.” You two stand in front of your friend group, silently begging to San, who’s the only one you know the best from there.From the tall black haired man, your gaze shifts to the one sitting in front of you, his legs almost touching your shoes. His eyes meet yours once. San notices you, standing up from his seat. “Yeah, I’ll play.” Your best friend claps twice with her hand and you get dragged out to the porch where the beer pong table stands, already jumping into the game.

——————-——————-

Easy to say you were the one winning. With San on your side, you felt powerful as the both of you threw the ball into the cups, getting your friends drunk. You laugh with San, leaning to his side unconsciously as you were unable to keep yourself up from laughing. He smiles down at you with stars in his eyes, although you can’t see. But Mingi can. It makes him grip the cup in his hand, leaning on the porch entrance as he’s watching you laugh with his friend and not with him. It makes him boil, but also think. How can he get your attention once again?

But as he’s biting on his bottom lip while thinking, you catch his gaze. Staring into his eyes from the other side of the backyard as he’s still standing on the porch. He’s wearing a tight black shirt which is decorated with his silver chains, big black jeans as bottoms. San suddenly nudges you shoulder and you pay attention to him again. Mingi is furious once again.

You win once again, clapping your hands together and jumping into San’s arms. He hugs your waist, chuckling into your hair. Oh, what Mingi would do to be him. Are you aware of what you are doing to him? The way you make him feel just now? By looking at you? You surely don’t, because you look at him again with alluring eyes. Something snapped inside you and decided to change the game. And Mingi knows that now. So let the game begin.

He storms back inside where he left the girl he was with, dragging her out by her wrist straight to the table you were playing at. “We want to play. You guys should learn from us.” Mingi gets in position, telling your friends to take a break. He looks straight into your eyes, while gripping the tiny ball harder in his hands. San laughs at Mingi’s cockiness, picking up a ball. “Mingi. Do you really want to be humiliated?” San speaks up, getting into the same position as Mingi.

“Let’s not be so sure about ourselves.” He says and throws the ball into the cup right in front of you. The girl beside him laughs out loud, praising him with words as she hugs his arm. But Mingi stills his gaze on you. Only you.

You get the hint, so as you keep eye contact you slowly lift the cup to your lips, drinking the disgusting alcohol. You don’t bet an eye though, still looking at him.

“Alright, then let’s play.” San claps his hands, the competitiveness raising up.

After 15 minutes of intense game, you finally had enough. Slamming your hand down on the table, everyone’s attention was on you. What are you going to say now? In front of everyone, you wish to say what’s on your mind? Of course not. Mingi arches his eyebrow at your behavior, tilting his head to the side with a smirk. San looks at you with worry, silently asking if everything is alright. You shake your head and utter out you’re headed to the bathroom.

Quickening up your steps, you storm through the crowded house where people drink off each other's body or just simply take shots without hands.

It can’t be more obvious right? I mean If he now gets up and says he’s gonna check on you like a caring friend, then everyone should believe that right? Fuck it. His cock was rock hard against his pants as you were teasing him all night, and he needed a release with you. He has been waiting for it.

So he straightens up and says the exact words he said in his head. Nobody seems to care, so he turns around and hurries into the house, seeing you disappear on the stairs. He can still see your back when he reaches the top of the stairs, seeing you entering a room. When he reaches the room, he swings it open to see you standing in the center of the room. You tilt your head to the side, watching him entering the room and shut out the loud music from downstairs. He sighs out as he leans on the door, locking it behind himself.

“Are you feeling better?” He raps out and you let a smile grow on your face. You do feel quite tipsy to your liking from the previous game, and he knows it too. You hum, taking a step closer to him. “Mhmh. Now that we are alone again.” Stepping closer to him again, your shoes touch each other’s. He hangs his head down, towering over you easily. “Tell me, did you enjoy your game with your little girlfriend?” You ask, bringing your hand up to his chest, racking your nail down slowly to make him go crazy. He curts his head to the side. “I did. Did you see how talented she is with her hands?”

You let out a sigh, pouting as the words sink in. “Come on, Min. You can do better than that.” You whisper against his ear, his hands sliding on your waist. “I believe you saw how San is talented too, right?” Your lips hover above his skin, seeing goosebumps on his skin rising. He squeezes your hips. “Oh, I did. It makes me wonder though.”

You look into his eyes with curiosity on your face. “Would he be able to make you come as fast as I do with my hands?” He’s the one whispering in your ear now, making you bite your lip when he squeezes your body closer to his. “If you keep this up maybe I’ll go down and find it out.”

“I dare you.” With a quick move, his hand was in your hair, tugging it back so he could lick the side of your neck. “At the table, you acted like a bitch in heat. Playing a dovey couple with San. Fine, have it your way then.”

His fingers zip down your dress, kissing all over your chest. Your hand tangled up in his silver hair, making him look into your eye before you brought his lips to yours. Kissing you deeply, his tongue pushing its way inside your mouth making you whimper into his mouth. His hand comes up to your neck, holding you close to him. When his lips leave yours, you’re quick to attach your lips to his skin, grazing your teeth on it. His broad shoulders tense when you bite his neck, marking him visibly. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that.

“Mingi,please…” Your pleading echoes in the room while Mingi grips your thigh. You grind against him making him groan out as he tugs your panties to the side. His fingers immediately find your tight entrance,pushing them in and making you moan out as you grab his shirt.

“Tell me what do you want, princess.” He nuzzles his nose in your neck, biting on it and kissing the hurting sensation after, while his fingers indulges your puffy walls.

“You,inside me. Now, please” You tell him straight up, you’ve been waiting for this since you had your first time with him weeks ago. Not wasting any time, he switches places with you and pushes you against the door. Your hands travel down to his pants, taking his cock out as beads of pre-cum leaks down on your fingers. Moaning at the sight, he lifts your legs to wrap it around his waist, holding you close.His mouth is still at your neck when he pokes his tip to your clit, making you whimper. He groans, slamming his hand on the door next to your head. He can’t take it anymore. “I have been waiting for this for weeks. I can’t watch you with someone else who is not me.”

You grind down on his shaft, his length rubbing your clit easily, thanks to your wetness. He heaves a sigh, biting down on your neck as he slowly puts his tip inside you. You can feel him smiling against your neck, as you whimper out a sigh. “What are you smiling about?” you manage to say.

“What happened? Can’t take me? That’s just a shame.” He sucks on your skin and thumbs at your clit to ease the burning feeling. Gripping your hips harder,he suddenly fucks up into you, making you moan out next to his ear.

“There you go. Look at that princess, you take me so well.” You look down between your bodies, seeing his cock moving slowly in and out of you. At the sight, you bite your lip and throw your head back against the door. He looks deeply into your eyes. “Don’t let anyone else touch you. You're mine, baby.” He breathes against your lips before kissing you passionately. His tongue dance with yours, sucking and biting your bottom lip while he fucks you against the door mercilessly.

With a pop sound you pull away from his mouth to take a big breath. “I-I can’t take it anymore, Mingi.” You whine, gripping his shoulder harder. He brings down his finger to circle it on your clit, making your head spin. The sensation is too much. “Be a good girl and take it.” As the words leave his mouth, he pulls out of you. At the loss of fullness, you look up at him with doe eyes. He only turns you around, bringing your hips to flush against his as he enters you once again.Both of you moan out as he bottoms out. This new position gives you a different kind of feeling, like you can feel him in your stomach. “Mingi.” His name leaves your mouth as he picks up the speed, fucking you from behind now. Your head is on the wooden door, your hands gripping the frame for support as his hands travel on your body. Suddenly, he moves an inch to the side and he hits the perfect spot inside you, making you cry out. “Fuck!” You clench down on him hard.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groans out at the feeling, almost coming undone thanks to you. But he keeps himself back, his priority is to make you come first. “Baby if you keep doing this I won’t be able to keep myself back.” He bites your shoulder from behind to muffle his moans, and you groan out, clenching on him again purposely. “Fuuucking hell.” A growl leaves his mouth, speeding up once again to chase your high.

“I’m- I think i’m—“ You mumble out, taking his hand into yours as you can’t hold yourself back anymore. “Come on baby, make me come.” He says as you moan out his name one after another.

You feel him twitch inside you as you come around him, your mouth hanging open in a silent gasp when he circles his thumb on your clit once again. He comes with a whiney moan, swiping your hair to the side so he can bite the side of your neck. You feel like your legs are going to give out in a second, but Mingi catches you just in time.

As you two try to catch your breath, you realize that the party outside is still indeed going, and you two told everyone that you would go for a quick bathroom break.

But no one has to know what really happened.

#kpop #mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez smut #song mingi #ateez mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez imagines

209 notes · View notes

ms-demeanor · 2 months

Note

hello! sorry to bother w this but im sort of desperate at this point. given your post about school abuse: so like. i had a similar experience and i thought that i had sorted my brain out. BUT. big but. now im trans and every time i have to correct people w/ misgender or come out to people that i dont already know their opinion on the issue, i get an anxiety attack that makes me unable to do it. ive told many therapists and no one so far has understood why im terrified of making stuff that other people can perceive as me being difficult to work with. would you have *any* advice? thanks!

Okay so first of all it is totally valid to feel that way; that isn't an irrational response, that is your body and brain going "!!!! I have learned this lesson before!" But just because it's a sensible response doesn't mean it's functional in the long term, which is why it needs to be addressed (which I'm sure you already know, I'm just explaining for people in the back).

So now here is some meandering advice:

Spend time with people you already know you can trust. It's okay to take a break from new people and situations (as much as is possible) when you are processing traumatic events and learning to care for yourself. Spending time with people who you don't have to come out to, who don't misgender you, can help you normalize being out and correctly gendered to yourself.

Recognize that you don't have to be out to everyone and some assholes aren't worth it. This is going to depend some on the context, but you don't owe everybody an explanation for yourself and if people repeatedly misgender you after being corrected you may just be better off not spending time around those people.

Loop in trusted people in low-stakes ways. If you get the sense that someone who you think is pretty safe has misgendered you on accident, it might still feel too intimidating to correct them in person but it might be a good idea to follow up with text or a call or a message to say "hey, just FYI, I think I heard you use a/b pronouns for me earlier, I just wanted to let you know that I use c/d pronouns. Did you want to meet up again next week?" the breakdown on why I think this is effective is - Distance means you're safe - nonthreatening "FYI" means you aren't saying "I'm offended" and assumes good faith from the other person - feels less accusatory (not that you need to tone police yourself, but if you're trying to lower the stress level overall then assuming it was a mistake and letting them know you don't think it was on purpose should reduce the overall tension) - request to meet up again or topic switch to something lighter once again says "I'm not mad, that was just regular information, we can now return to our scheduled programming"

I think that, generally speaking, this is also a decent way to come out to people if you're nervous; physically remote and emotionally casual can be a good place to work from (even if you're actually panicking in your head but you can pull off casual in a written message)

Find (or create) a space where people are 100% going to support you. If you need to create a discord server, if you need to schedule a regular coffee date with trusted friends or family members, whatever it is, give yourself a space where you are unconditionally supported and can have people to bounce ideas and concerns off of. Even if it's just you and one other person, it's good to know you have *someone* who you can say "I think I want to tell this other person to use my pronouns but it's scary" to and know that you're not at risk in any way. I'd say try to make sure that you're still interacting with people outside of that space, but have a space to retreat to where you can just drop the worry.

Recognize that somebody else's problem is not a reflection of you. If you have, for instance, a coworker who is being a piece of shit and refusing to recognize your gender, that is not a reflection of your gender that is a reflection of them being a piece of shit. If there is a classmate or a sibling who uses the wrong pronouns after being corrected that doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pronouns that means they are being a piece of shit. Some people are just not going to accept you and that's on them. Try to minimize your time spent with them and if you have to spend time with them at work take steps to ensure your safety, but don't fight losing battles with assholes.

It really is legitimately scary. You have good reasons to be scared and you are doing a very frightening thing (and not to do the meme thing but you are legitimately being so brave about it; the fact that you are reaching out and asking anyone for help, including randos on the internet, means that you are taking steps to doing the scary thing and that is SO GOOD and I'm really proud of you for making the effort in spite of the fear).

Here is some less meandering advice:

Practice. Talk to yourself in the mirror, practice with friends, practice with your therapist. Practice coming out to yourself in a casual way. Practice correcting your pronouns. Practice an introduction for yourself that explains the information you want to give to new people you might meet. Get it down to a quick little patter, get it to be something that's easy to say to yourself in the mirror first, then try it with friends for practice, then try it around the safer people you might want to give the information to. It'll get easier as you go.

Look for a local support group (or an online support group). If there's a local LGBTQ+ center you should see if they've got events going on or a support group you can join or workshops or any manner of social thing where you can go interact with people who have been through similar stuff.

Journal. Each time you find yourself frightened of talking to someone about your gender, do what you need to to get through the day and then sit down and think about that interaction. Write down what happened, write down what you were thinking. Was there something in particular that made you anxious? Is it something you can practice addressing? Was there something you noticed about the person that made you uncomfortable? Is that a common thread in the times you have trouble talking about this? If you're able to narrow down specifically what is making it hard to speak to some people that might make it easier to explain to therapists but will also make it more actionable for you.

Here's some very optimistic advice:

If at all possible find a friend who will be rabid and unflinching in their support for you and hang out with them around new people. Get yourself an attack dog copilot who will cheerfully step up and make corrections for you. I know not everyone can do this and I know that if you can find someone like this they can't be around all the time, but it can be wonderfully reassuring to find that one person who you know is going to be ride or die about making sure that everyone in the room respects you. (Being that person for someone else can also teach you how to be that person for you)

161 notes · View notes

wing-ed-thing · 5 months

Text

Childhood Friends to Lovers Relationship Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns Not into romance? Here's some platonic childhood friends with Iruka hcs!

𓆃 It's a very natural progression, especially if you're in the same age group as Iruka and remain moderately involved with the village growing up.

𓆃 Iruka is friendly enough to be able to bond with just about anyone, and given you're in similar circumstances after the Nine-Tails attack on the village, you're bound to be drawn to one another.

𓆃 Especially if you're left with few loved ones, being around others who share your circumstances makes your situation feel less lonely. At least, that was the idea when the Third Hokage implemented the youth programs for those who lost family stability.

𓆃 It was an awkward series of after-academy and weekend activities thrown together by a bunch of volunteer shinobi who didn't know much about kids, but you and Iruka wouldn't know better until you were older.

𓆃 These programs were also open to children whose parents were now working around the clock to assist the village, so even if your circumstances didn't resemble Iruka's, you could naturally find yourself in similar spaces.

𓆃 You probably couldn't even recall the exact moment you and Iruka became friends at all. You just always remembered him there and could hardly think of a time where Iruka wasn't in your life.

𓆃 (Iruka remembers. He's told you once before. Something about helping him out when he was new to the program and grieving, but you don't actually remember any of that.)

𓆃 He's always the first person you invite to your group outings with friends and he always makes time for you. He actually always makes time for anything you invite him to, whether you explicitly ask him or hint that you'd like him there.

𓆃 For a lifetime, he's been at every graduation, performance, and new life event you could ever ask someone to be at.

𓆃 Iruka was also always at your place, and if he wasn't at yours, you were at his.

𓆃 Any family you have surely already considers him one of them, your more sentimental— or otherwise slightly ditsy— family forgetting that Iruka isn't another blood family member.

𓆃 As you get older, your friends or extended family will constantly assume that Iruka's your partner. From your teenage years on, everyone will assume that you're a couple whether you are or not.

𓆃 And, well, you practically are a couple. You see each other every chance you get; you talk to each other every chance you get; you work in complete and utter tandem, that even people who don't know you very well assume that you're a couple.

𓆃 With his proximity to the people closest to you, it's an appropriate assumption and when you do finally get together, no one's surprised.

𓆃 Hell, even if you decide that marriage is for you, no one would be surprised about that either.

𓆃 "I thought you were already married," practically every shinobi in the village will most certainly say upon your announcement.

𓆃 Children will be a large part of your life whether they're yours or not, strictly because of Iruka's status as a teacher. His students mean the world to them, and by extension, it's probably for the best if you get as least a little involved.

𓆃 Your dynamic will work best if you show a level of dedication on par with his, whether you're another teacher, a sensei, or even simply drop by with treats every so often.

𓆃 The students think that ANBU warriors are fascinating and giving demonstrations of your superior kunai skills never fail to impress.

𓆃 "You'll only be able to do that if you do all your homework on time!"

𓆃 Your relationship is village-centric. Perhaps you won't be setting off on any crazy joint-mission anytime soon, but you will have a close, natural relationship and a village full of people who absolutely adore you.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Not into romance? Here's some platonic childhood friends with Iruka hcs!

#iruka x reader #iruka umino x reader #iruka #iruka umino #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #reader insert #x you #x reader #naruto shippuden

98 notes · View notes

eddiemania · 2 years

Text

A Hard Worker! e. munson

Description: Eddie feels jealous, so he fucks his best friend on top of the car he's fixing.

Warnings: mechanic eddie, dom!eddie, cheerleader!reader, oral sex, spanking, PiV, doggystyle, protective!eddie, degrading/praising.

You felt your feet throbbing the more steps you took. Returning from afternoon cheer practice was always harder than mornings. Carrying the entire day's tiredness, you had to get dressed, arrive at school, practice, and then, with painful limbs, walk back home.

Today's practice, though, was quite surprising.

As you paced, your mind wandered around the events that had taken place. Chance Peterson passed down a message to you through Linda Richards about his feelings as well as a sealed letter, which the girl delivered to you with a smirk on her face.

You were informed that it hadn't been opened by her or anyone else, but chances were she knew about what it contained since her boyfriend was best friends with the jock himself.

You kept on walking, holding it in your grip before the sign you were looking for eventually appeared in your eyesight.

"Thatcher Tires"

It was 9pm. The sun had completely gone down and the only light on the street you found yourself in was occasionally flickering. You tightly gripped the garage door before sliding it, revealing Eddie's half-worn overall, and half of his tank top-clothed torso covered in greases and stains.

Iron Maiden was blasting on the speakers, making Eddie unable to hear you enter. You swore this boy would get murdered one day.

He was the only one inside the store, and since his boss was missing, he had stayed overtime for whatever reason. Maybe he was too interested in the car he was working on or had gotten into an argument with his uncle back home, but either way, you were glad you did not walk here all the way for nothing.

Your friendship with Eddie wasn't considered weird or confusing to the surrounding people until high school. By the time you were a freshman, he was already a senior. It didn't take long until you became well-liked and even quite popular.

Everyone liked you. You were kind, polite and sweet so when everyone saw how close you were with your best friend who, while you were in middle school, had created a pretty scandalous impression, they assumed the worst for him and even tried talking you out of spending time with him.

Eventually, you had reached your senior year, which he had failed twice due to his low grades despite you trying to help him out of his D's and C's.

You walked towards the black Mercedes he was under, placing a paper bag of food on its hood before making your way to the speakers, turning the record off.

Eddie immediately wiggled out of his position, his hand over his heart as he panted, "Jesus!" he groaned, causing you to lightly smile, "Did I scare you, poor thing?" you innocently glanced at him, "Spare me."

He looked at the hood of the car, sending a glare at you, "You're not allowed to place stuff up here, y/n" you rolled your eyes at his words, approaching him, "You should be thankful I walked after practice just to bring my best friend something to eat," you punched his arm.

"Righ blessing us with your appearance after going M.I.A for a week," he scoffed, opening the bag, "I'm sorry, but you know we're preparing for the match this weekend." you sat next to him.

You did feel slightly bad because you knew he was right.

"Why did you stay overtime?" you questioned, stroking the boy's hair before putting them in a bun as he unwrapped his burger. Eddie always relaxed when you touched his hair, leaning against your hands. "I had nothing better to do." he took a bite.

"Plus, it's a nice car, isn't it?" he glanced at the vehicle with admiration. Ever since he was little, he fancied expensive and nice-looking rides. You hummed in agreement, watching his bangs slightly sticking on his glistening forehead as he ate.

"What's this?" he asked, his gaze traveling down on the envelope you had inside your grip. You glanced down, shaking your head with an awkward smile. "Nothing important."

His eyes narrowed, yet he said nothing to you, "Just... foolish boys," you pressed your lips into a thin line, striding around the garage in your cheer uniform.

"Ah, did you get a love letter, sweetheart?" he spoke with fake awe, before throwing away the wraper in his hands. You nodded in response, making your way to him.

"What does it say?" Eddie asked, but you simply shrugged, "You haven't opened it yet?" he questioned, "No,"

"What are you waiting for?" he encouraged, placing some of his tools inside a box next to the car. You gave the envelope another glance before carefully opening it, taking the letter it contained out.

You began reading it, Eddie's eyes fixated on you, but once the words on it sunk in, your eyes had gone wide, your cheeks beginning to heat up. "What? What's wrong?" the curlyhead asked, getting no reply from you.

"Sweetheart?" he called again, this time approaching you before his hand attempted to take the paper. You quickly shifted away, making him look at you with confusion, "y/n," he chased after you as you quickly paced away, taking your waist in his hands before slamming your back on his chest, "Eddie no!" you tried to escape his grip in vain before the boy successfully took the letter.

"You are so stunning. I'm losing my mind every time I come across you at school," he read out, your fighting not preventing him the slightest from continuing, "You make me feel like a fucking pervert whenever I touch myself to the thoughts of your beautiful body in my hands," he paused for a second, visible disturbance in his eyes, "Eddie!"

"I want you to be mine. I want to touch every single part of you. Meet me at the benches at eleven o'clock tomorrow, Chance."

He expressionlessly folded the paper, about to place it beside him when you reached to grab it out of his hand. "I told you to stop!" you glared at him. "So what are you going to do?" he avoided your eyes with a stiff look on his.

"What?"

"Will you meet him? Your jock friend, who wants to touch your beautiful body?" he moved his head to the direction of the letter, his hands crossed over his chest, "Maybe I will," you were unsure about this, you just wanted to piss him off and cut the protective act he always tried to sell you.

"Let me guess... Your other princess friends encouraged you? Hm?" you rolled your eyes at his choice of words, walking close to him, "If I want to meet him, I won't listen to them, or you," you looked up, defending yourself, but he only chuckled.

"So defensive, and for what? A fucking brainless douchebag who just wants to take your panties off?" you raised your eyebrows, slightly pushing him, "Because that's why a dude would only approach me right? To fuck me." you gritted your teeth.

"I didn't say that," he did not break eye contact once, his head moving closer to you, "You know damn well what kind of guy Chance Peterson is and what he has said about me, you just want to act all defensive because you're pissed that I'm looking after you," he spoke.

"Whether I decide to go out with him, I know what he wants. You're not my dad to tell me what you feel about anyone that is interested in me, Eddie!"

"Oh, so you just want to get fucked, don't you?"

Your eyes widened before your palm met the skin of his face, slapping him out of frustration, immediately bringing your hands in front of your mouth after the realization hit you.

Eddie hissed, his palm patting the soreness on his face, "I'm so sorry Eds!" you touched his cheek with worry, your spare hand on his chest, "God, I'm so sorry!"

He did not respond, something that worried you even more than the redness on his face. "I don't want his hands anywhere near you," he clenched his jaw when your eyes locked contact with his. You frowned your brows, your hand letting go of his cheek, "You don't have to prote-"

"No,"

Before you could question him, he spoke. "I'm not-" he paused, hitting the table next to him when his hand reached your waist, pulling you closer for his lips to touch yours.

Your eyes remained open, surprise making you unable to move, "I'm just fucking pissed," his head moved next to yours, lips near your ear, "Pissed that someone like him wants to touch my little girl," he whispered, your cheeks heating up.

His little girl...

You would have never believed neither that such words would come out of his mouth nor that they would have such an effect on you. His arms remained on your waist, "I almost lost it when you told me Mark Peron took your virginity last year," he sighed, "I'm not proud about it, it's just..." his forehead was placed on your shoulder, "I wanted to be the one that-" he stopped himself, moving away from you.

You were finally able to look to his entire figure walking away, the sweet taste he had left on your lips making your fingers brush over them.

"Let's go, I'll drive you home," he said, grabbing his van keys off the floor before you ran and took them out of his hand, "You wanted to take my virginity?" you eyed him, but he avoided contact, "I just wanted to make sure it felt good," he mumbled.

"Oh, I should be thanking you then!" you smiled sarcastically making him shake his head, "Let's just go, y/n," he's about to slide the door but you stay behind.

"Thank you for fantasizing about jumping me Eddie! You're the best!" you slide the door back close, giving him a judging glare as you stood in front of him, "Don't look at me like that," he swallowed, "Why? Does it make your dick hard?" you scoffed.

"Yes,"

His hand took your wrist, minimizing the distance when he once again kissed you, but this time you did not hold back. Your hands were instantly wrapped around your best friend's neck, pulling him even closer before you found yourself pushed against the cold wall, his knee managing to make it's way between your soft thighs.

He kept restraining himself from shifting his hands lower to your ass, but a loud groan left his lips once you guided them there yourself, keeping yours over his, encouraging to squeeze you tightly.

You threw your head back in pleasure, giving him the perfect chance to kiss and bite your warm neck, "So you did just want to get fucked, hm?" he smiled against you, making you whine in pleasure, "Because deep down, my little girl always happened to be a secret little slut,"

You returned your lips on his, the skin of your belly feeling his hard cock against you, "Eds," you moaned, causing him to sigh deeply, "Just tell me yes and I'll take you right here if that's what you want." he spoke firmly, his hand beginning to play with your panties under your skirt, pulling the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin.

"Yes, ye-"

He forced his tongue inside your mouth, pushing you back inside the workplace before his hand reached beneath your thighs, the boy pulling you on him.

Quickly, you felt the quick movement of spinning before you found yourself laying face down on the cold surface of the freshly fixed Mercedes.

He stood between your spread legs, lifting your skirt slightly before a groan escaped his lips, "What an ass..." you whined, trying to support yourself on the hood.

"Next time we argue you won't act like a deprived little whore," he leaned down, "Got it?" his left hand tapped your back. You kept your mouth shut, slight curiosity keeping you from agreeing when a scream escaped your mouth, his hand harshly spanking your ass.

"Answer Ms. 'beautiful body'," he rubbed your freshly red flesh, "Got it," you bit your lip, slightly arching. You felt ashamed, but you wanted more. His dominance made your cunt ache, a wet stain becoming visible on your pink panties.

"You like that don't you? Having your best friend call you a slut, his slut. I just can't wait to see how well you take my fucking cock," another spank followed.

"Eddie," your feet found his thighs, pulling him closer. The boy lost his balance, slightly falling over you before chuckling. His lips began kissing your ass. He licked and kissed hungrily, unable to get enough of it.

"See baby, how could I let any asshole kiss my little girl's beautiful ass? I'm so selfish, I want it all to myself," he lifted the bottom of your panties, licking a good strand of your exposed pussy.

You moaned loudly, holding back from hitting the car's hood. You needed to grip onto something desperately.

Maybe he was right. You felt like such a slut letting Eddie do this to you but it felt so damn good.

Spanks came one after the other, your ass feeling sore and painful, "Eds please, it hurts so good," you whined, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Get on all fours for me, my beautiful," he dragged you lower on the car by your thighs, "Please fuck me," you cried out arching like a cat in front of him.

His dick ached as he watched you in your tiny skirt. You looked adorable, offering all your body to him. The boy pulled your underwear on the side wiggling his tongue against your folds. "Tastes like heaven," he moaned against you, caressing your back.

You loudly groaned, taking your shirt and bra off with out his call. He obviously hadn't noticed...

He kissed and sucked your pussy, the absence of fabric on your soft back making him look up, eyes secretly widening. He didn't hesitate, immediately reaching to touch one of your tits before continuing to suck you off.

You placed your hand over his larger one as he massaged you. Eventually, he managed to put yours under his, palming your own chest with you.

"Eddie- feels' so damn good!" you cried.

"Cum. Cum on my face, please goddess," he groaned, sloppy sounds of him eating your cunt filling the entire garage.

"Give me your sweet cum, please baby," he practically whined, his hand lightly slapping your tit.

You couldn't help it anymore. You let it all out, your body started to shake yet his tongue remained attached to you, patiently waiting for your leaks to reach his mouth.

"Mm, good girl," he praised, caressing your ass.

"I thought..." you swallowed, trying to catch your breath, "I thought you weren't allowed to place anything on the hood," you sighed, listening to his soft chuckle, "Stuff on the hood can cause damage. Your naked body is a blessing." he bit you softly, making you giggle.

The metalhead didn't waste any time before gently lifting you to place you on your back, finally watching your blushed face.

"Who's my naughty little girl?" he spoke softly, caressing your cheek, "Me," you grinned, bitting your lower lip.

"I'm your..." your confidence died down when you realized the position you were in, and acknowledged the way he was staring into your eyes, "Yes?" he hummed.

"Your naughty girl..." you whispered shyly, avoiding his eyes, "Excatly. See how easy you learn things?" your knee brushed his erection, making the boy moan.

He pulled down his overalls, palming himself over his tight boxers to ease some of the pressure. You took the chance to sit up and carefully begin undressing him off his tank top.

His tattoos came in display in front of your face before you started placing sloppy kisses on his belly, "Beg," he made you look at him.

"Beg me to fuck you," he spoke with a baby voice to you, your eyes looking at him with desire, "Eddie, I need you," you kissed him, "I need you inside of me, please." you moaned, "Please baby," you formed a hickey under his tattoo, one that he visibly appreciated.

"Spread those thighs for me, goddess," he smiled, softly pushing them apart, "I haven't done this in a while Eds," you nervously spoke when his lips found your forehead, "I'll take good care of you, don't worry,"

His tip started, rubbing your wet entrance, making sure every inch of you was wet and ready for him. Eddie slapped his dick against you a couple of times before slowly and steadily pushing the head inside of you.

You moaned, feeling your body being lowered down back on the cars cold surface, your best friend's body coming down with you. His lips played with your neck, a few hickeys being left.

Your hands moved on the back of his head, releasing his hair from your hair tie before running your hands through them, "More?" he bit your jaw, "More." you breathed feeling his dick sliding all the way in, "Oh shit!"

He began thrusting inside of you, at first softly before his pace fastened up, the sounds of your skins contacting each other feeling the room, "Eddie!" you pulled his hair, earning a loud grunt from him, "Want to cum again don't you?" he huskily spoke, when you nodded.

"Cum you fucking cockslut," he whined, "Come around my dick," he went slow but hard, making sure you took every inch of him.

You cried out loudly, your nails digging his entire back as your legs wrapped around his waist, "Let's see if that little cunt, Chance, can pound you like this," he moaned, his face buried in your neck.

The knot in your stomach finally released, warm cum running down your legs. Eddie immediately pulled out, beginning to pump himself over your belly, "Can I?" he questioned, and you nodded when you felt him leaking on your skin.

"Ho- holy shit," he cried, kissing your thighs individually, a few minutes passing by in silence for you both to catch your breaths.

"We should get going," he then broke the comfortable silence, a smirk plastered on his stupid face, "What? Why?" you frowned, worried that someone was here, "You have a date tomorrow," he winked when you hit his back, a chuckle escaping his gorgeous lips.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #mechanic eddie munson #mechanic!eddie

1K notes · View notes

fandoms-writings · 9 months

Note

i have one for u !!!

7 from angst & 6 from smut with bucky barnes? i angsty/smut is like… 🤭🤭

Pairing: ceramics professor!bucky x fem!student!reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, unprotected vaginal sex, p in v sex, pet names: sir, sweetheart, baby. a little angst, but i was having a rough time with the angst so i did what i could.

A/N: listen - i know i said that the event was for drabbles but i get very easily carried away sooooo yeah - i hope you enjoy!! <3

Masterpost || Bucky Masterlist || Event Post

Bucky hadn't meant to get so. . . involved with you. At least, not the way it had turned out.

At first it wasn't a problem, you were just someone in the bar at the beginning of summer who caught his eye and let him shoot his shot. He'd fucked you in the bathroom of that very bar before taking you back to his place to do it again.

You'd become fuck buddies over the summer, hooking up whenever you could, but trying to keep it on the down low because neither of you wanted a real relationship at the time.

And it was fine, it worked.

Until summer was over. He told you he was going to be busier than usual and you said the same. Neither of you had given the other a reason as to why, but it didn't take long for the both of you to figure it out.

He went to work, to bide his time until he would allow himself to call you, setting up at the front of the studio. Copies of his syllabus were laid out on the tables, his throwing wheel was cleaned and ready for a demonstration, though he wouldn't be demonstrating anything today. That would be later in the week.

The first few classes went by without a hitch, and he was glad to have almost all of the students filling his room actually interested in being there. Usually, the fresh college kids didn't really want to be there at all so there was minimal effort, but they actually seemed like they cared this year.

He'd reset up the room again for the last group of the day, erasing the information on the board and rewriting his name. He may have been old school like that, not many of the other professors did it, but he knew some people had trouble hearing so it helped to have a visual.

Students started filing in one by one, some of them already in small groups of two or three, but there was one laugh that had his blood turning to ice in his veins. He took a calming breath, as calming as it could be, and peaked over his shoulder behind him, finding you.

You were smiling and laughing with who he assumed was a friend of yours, and he was sure you hadn't even noticed him yet. He watched as you looked at the syllabus on the table in front of you, reading it over but not really paying it any mind.

He hadn't told you his first or last name during any of your time together. He was just 'Bucky' to you so why would you take notice of his true name on the paper?

After finding his focus again, he decided to just go about the class as if it was any other group of students. Ignoring the elephant in the room that only the two of you knew about.

When class was over though, you stayed behind, waiting for him to finish speaking with everyone else before you approached him, even allowing those who'd come in after you to ask their questions first.

"So," You walked up to his desk, being mindful to leave an appropriate amount of distance between the two of you, "Guess this means we stop, huh?"

He looked up at you then, properly looked at you for the first time that day. There wasn't a single sign of anger or negativity on your face, only pure understanding and patience. And maybe a little disappointment.

"Yeah," he said, "I guess so."

You nodded, "Well, just don't be a stranger, kay?" He could see the sadness starting to flood in your eyes as you waited for his confirmation.

"I promise," he nodded, and you gave him a sad smile before turning around, walking out of his room.

Things continued like that for a while. He'd come around when you needed help, showing tips and tricks he'd picked up over the years. Bucky tried keeping it a professional relationship, but it was harder than he thought it would be.

He couldn't be around you for too long without feeling the need to touch you again. He couldn't stare at your hands for too long, working the clay, or he'd remember how your hands felt on his skin, raking down his back.

But he just needed to make it until the end of the semester, and he could do that, right?

Fall break, your saving grace from feeling like drowning in work and it was only the first semester. How were you ever going to get through this?

The campus was almost deserted, practically everyone had gone on vacation or gone home to their families for the break. You stayed behind, hoping to get a head start on the next quarter's assignments and notes.

And you'd been doing that, until the little voice in your head had gained some courage and made you want to ask the question it had been asking you for weeks. Since the first day of the semester.

You needed to find Bucky, and you were pretty sure you knew where to look.

Gathering your bag and your purse from the table, you deserted the library and headed for the art building. You knew the building would be open, for those students who hadn't gone home, like you. What you were worried about was if his door would open.

And it didn't. It was locked. But there was one more place you knew to check.

There was a knocking on the door, and when Bucky looked up from his sculpture to see who was on the other side of the glass door, his heart all but stopped.

There you were, holding your sweater around you tight as you fought off the chill the wind brought. Your legs were bare beneath your skirt and he just knew you were freezing out there. What were you doing here?

He wiped his hands off with the clean rag as he made his way over to the door, the smile on your face when you saw him through the glass made his breath hitch and his heart stutter as he unlocked the latch.

"What're you doing here?" He asked, stepping aside so you could come in out of the cold.

"I need to ask you something," You said, the urgency in your voice setting off alarm bells.

"How did you know I was here?"

"I know you, how else do you think I found you?"

He nodded, "Right." You did know him. He tried to forget how well you knew him sometimes. "So what's your question?"

"Do you think," You started, fidgeting with the cuffs of your sweater, your nerves starting to take over. You bit your lip as you thought about your question now. You really shouldn't ask it, you know you shouldn't. But you needed to know. And hell, you came all the way down here, so you may as well. "Do you think we could restart what we had over the summer once the semester is over?"

His body tensed as his eyes locked on you. "What?"

Your heart was racing and you could hear the roar of your blood rushing in your ears. "You heard me." It came out barely above a whisper, but that's all you could muster yourself to do. You couldn't ask it again, there was no way.

He hugged a breath out through his nose, "But why?"

You tried not to let it show in your eyes how hollow your chest suddenly felt. No matter how badly you wanted to back away, you stood your ground, but you could feel your shoulders shrinking in on you. "What do you mean why?"

He looked to the ground, his hands settling on his hips. The silence was deafening as the pit in your chest only grew in anticipation. The longer you waited for an answer, the more you could feel the dam breaking, the tears welling in your eyes.

"Bucky?" You whispered and he finally looked up at you, looking just as wrecked as you felt.

"Why me?" He asked, his voice hoarse. "Do you realize how beautiful you are? Anyone would be lucky to have you - someone your age."

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. It wasn't that he didn't want you - it was the morals of the whole thing. "Maybe," You walked up to him, standing mere inches from him as you looked up to meet his eyes, "But none of them are you."

"It's wrong," He muttered, holding impossibly still as you took another small step forward.

"I can keep a secret."

"I could lose my license."

"So we wait," You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you spoke, "We wait until I'm not your student."

"Yeah?" He asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You nodded, "yeah."

You looked up to see his eyes locked onto your lips. You nudged his nose with the tip of yours, getting his attention back to your eyes and you barely registered the crack in his resolve before his lips were on yours and his hands were cradling your face.

It was an all too familiar exchange, one you two knew well as his hands roamed your body, guiding you back towards a table. But it was different this time. There was a new feeling in your heart as he picked you up by your hips and set you on the table's surface, your knees parting for him to stand between them.

His hands dove under your sweater and your shirt, palming your breasts, pulling you as close to him as he could get you while he let your tongue taste every corner of his mouth.

"We shouldn't be doing this," your words were swallowed by him and he groaned.

"One more time," He whispered, moving to your neck, "Just one more." His mouth attached to your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"One more," You agreed, reaching for his pants, unbuttoning them so you could fit your hand past the waist line and into his boxers. Wrapping your hand around his length, you gave a small tug, earning a groan into your neck.

His fingers moved to the hem of your skirt, pushing it up to your hips and cupping your sex over your panties, groaning at the dampness already there.

"You're already wet, sweetheart," He smirked at you as he pulled away to look at you. "You missed my touch that much, hm?"

You nodded, whining out, "Yes - need you."

He cooed at you as he pulled the fabric of your panties to the side, swiping his fingers through your folds, smirking at the whine that escaped your throat. "God I missed this."

You shoved his pants down, freeing his cock and letting it land over your clit, the sensation sending a jolt through you. He groaned as he swiped his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he could before lining himself up and pushing himself in, holding the side of your neck as he did.

A whine broke free from your lips and his hand around your neck tightened, "I know baby, I just couldn't wait, need to feel you around me." He pushed further in, watching as your cunt sucked him further in.

You gasped as he bottomed out, pushing in all the way to the base, making you remember how full he made you feel.

"Fuck," he groaned, his head tipping back, "you feel amazing." He started rolling his hips, doing shallow thrusts, savoring the moment as your walls fluttered around him.

But you wanted more. You needed him to move.

You hooked your feet behind him, your legs around his waist, and you pulled him towards you.

His head came back down as he looked at you. "Desperate baby?"

You reached forward, fisting his shirt and pulling him down towards you, whispering, "Show me how much you missed me."

His hand on the side of your neck moved down to rest over the lower part of your stomach and his other one wrapped under one of your legs, propping your ass up. "You wanna feel how much I missed you, huh?"

You nodded, the excitement bubbling in your stomach, your walls clenching around him.

"Okay baby."

He set a brutal pace, pushing down on your stomach to make you feel him even deeper.

"Oh fuck -" You tried to hold yourself up on your elbows, the bits of dried clay digging into your skin, but you didn't notice, not with how he was pounding into you.

"You're so good for me," He grunted, leaning forward and moving his hand back up to your neck, wrapping around the front of it, keeping you from falling to the table. "So fucking good around me." A loud moan tore from your chest when he angled your hips down and he smiled, "Fucking made for me. Aren't you?"

All you could do was nod as you tried to catch your breath, regardless of how useless that would be.

"Use your words," He demanded, and it made the band in your stomach tighten.

"Yes!" You got out, "made for you - fuck - just you."

"That's right," He let your throat go, moving his thumb to press on your clit, "and while we wait, no one else gets to touch you, you got that?"

You nodded, "Yes, sir."

His thumb circled your bundle of nerves, "You wanna cum sweetheart?"

"Please," You all but cried, "please please please, sir."

"Give me a good one then," His thumb pressed down harder, circled in time with his hips, "Give me one to think about when I'm missing you, yeah?"

Your jaw went slack as the band snapped, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm washed over you. The blood was rushing in your ears and you almost - almost - missed what he said.

"Wish I could cum in you," He grunted, watching your cunt swallow him back in, over and over.

"Do it," Your voice was hoarse and you were panting, but he heard it. You know he did because his pace faltered, but only for a second.

"Fuck," his hands gripped your hips, sure to leave bruises. "Fuckfuckfu- "

He buried himself as far as your cunt would allow him, holding your hips to his as his cock twitched before painting your walls with his spend. You moaned with him, loving the way it felt.

Neither of you moved for a while, just looking at each other, taking in as many details as you could.

It was going to be a long few months.

But it would be worth it.

#professor!bucky #professor!bucky barnes x student!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky x f!reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #professor!bucky x student!reader #fandoms writings #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

181 notes · View notes

onceuponapuffin · 2 months

Text

My Good Omens Season 3 Predictions

Based on the Amazon Playlist and Established Patterns in S1 and S2

I’ve been listening to the songs on the official playlist that Amazon released in December, and I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. It’s been long enough, and now I feel like I have a solid enough footing to have ideas about season 3 based on the information given to us by the playlist (especially the songs Neil provided). Keep in mind that this is my speculation only. I may be entirely wrong, this post may age poorly, but I am okay with that. At the end of the day, I know for absolute fact that I will be THRILLED with whatever season 3 actually brings (But please – for my sanity – let there be a happy ending for Crowley and Aziraphale).

First of all, we know the season was outlined back in 2005, and I would assume (for the sake of this post if nothing else) that by the time the s3 announcement came, Prime had the general outline. And so, in the spirit of how this show does things, the playlist is full of Clues.

GIF by fuckyeahgoodomens

I’ll put the songs in parenthesis as I go.

Between “Before the Beginning” and “In the Beginning,” i.e. Flashback 1:

We’re going to start the season with Crowley’s Fall (Midnight Rain). Neil has said that he’s not going to ever tell us Starmaker’s name, so I’m not expecting that. But we know that each season starts with a prologue, and we also know that these flashback mirror the current events. Crowley’s Fall makes a lot of sense to start with because it is the first thing that pulls him and Aziraphale apart. And where are we starting from in present day? The Divorce.

How Are Crowley and Aziraphale Doing?

Bad (I’m a Mess). Crowley presents fine to the world, but we, who know him, can see he is struggling. I don’t know if he’ll actually go to therapy, but I would adore it if we got a glimpse of Crowley trying it and being like “NOPE” when it got too hard. He keeps expecting Aziraphale to walk around every corner, and keeps replaying the divorce in his mind (Just My Imagination).

Aziraphale isn’t doing well either. The Kiss, and by extension his last conversation with Crowley plays on his mind all the time (Could’ve Been).

Very soon after the playlist was released, one of my Good Omens friends on Discord (I forget who it was, I am so sorry), suggested that maybe Aziraphale is communicating with Crowley through his dreams. Honestly, I am so on board with this. With the number of songs that mention dreams and daydreams in this playlist, there is no way that Crowley’s dreams and/or imagination won’t play some kind of role in this season (In Dreams, Just My Imagination).

Minisodes

The Titanic

I think the most interesting thing is that we’re going to have at least one minisode about them alone through time. It’s something that we haven’t seen before, and it parallels their current journey.

That being said, I think one of these will be the Titanic (My Heart Will Go On). Here’s how I see it happening:

Crowley is the one on the ship. He’s not there to sink it, he’s just there to enjoy himself. Maybe he plays around with the kids a bit, maybe he makes friends. Point is, the humans have built this supposedly-unsinkable ship of dreams and he just has to see it. He’s there when it sinks. Maybe he even tries to save people or get the other ships to come faster, but he can’t save everyone.

Heartbroken, he returns home to his dark flat. He doesn’t turn on any lights. There are two envelopes waiting for him. He sits at the table to read them in the dark. The first is a commendation from Hell:

“Great job sinking the Titanic! Downstairs are Very Impressed with your work, as always!” He scoffs and tosses it aside. The second one is from Aziraphale.

Oh great, he thinks, Just what I need, a little ‘oh how dare you drown all those people you evil demon you.’ when I’m already feeling like shit. He opens it anyway. The first lines read:

“My Dear Crowley,

I heard that you were aboard the Titanic when it sank. Are you alright?”

Crowley breaks down and cries. ~End Scene~

1941

The playlist has Heart and Soul on it, but not a recent version – it’s specifically one that was recorded in 1939. So we’re almost definitely getting 1941 Part 3.

GIF by mimisempai

We’re going to find out what happened to cause their huge shift in dynamics from Date Night to 1967, and I think it’s a kiss. Maybe a kiss on the cheek? I’m not entirely sure. I do hope they get to slow dance to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square though.

The Reunion

My friends, it will not go well. This is one of the songs that Neil chose – Cry Me a River. It just reeks of Aziraphale coming back and Crowley being (understandably, and rightly) being bitter towards him. Aziraphale will, eventually, I’m sure, get back in his good books, but he’s gonna need more than an I Was Wrong Dance to do it.

(Actually?) Saving the World

Okay so being perfectly honest, the only reason either of them are the lead characters in this series is because they’re so freaking loveable. They are very bad at their jobs. Anathema, Newt, and Adam saved the world in S1, and although the Husbands gave Adam a little pep-talk, I think he’s smart enough that he could have managed it on his own if he had to.

So, this time they actually need to save the world and have an actual plan. This is where I think a second body swap will happen – hear me out! First of all, remember that no one aside from Gabriel (who is Someone Knows Where), none of the angels or demons have figured out their trick from the first time. So I don’t think it is the plan, but I do think it will be part of the plan. Where am I pulling this idea from? The Show Must Go On, another one of Neil’s choices. It sounds like it’s from Aziraphale’s perspective, but Queen songs are usually associated with Crowley. Seems odd, right? Maybe because it is. Maybe because they swap.

The Book of Life

I think we’re going to see The Book of Life, and I think it’s going to basically be The Book of Love. I think this is where we’re going to get the Main Thesis. The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, if you will. Love. It’s supposed to be Love.

The Book of Love – another of Neil’s choices.

Epilogue

I predict they get their South Downs cottage (Neil said “not yet,” which implies it’s coming). And there’s also a wedding, though I’m not sure whose it will be (The Book of Love). I REALLY hope that it’s Crowley and Aziraphale, because they deserve that kind of happy ending, and Neil is too much of an Ally not to realize how important it is that they get to Live Happily Ever After.

One Last Thought

I still have no idea what to make of I’d Rather Go Blind. That’s it. That’s the last thought I wanted to share that doesn’t really fit in anywhere else.

Thanks for going on this journey with me. Let’s make our Bingo cards and see if I managed to get anything right in 3-4 years.

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #season 3 predictions #season 3 speculation #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fandom #i'll be fine as long as they get their south downs cottage ending #season 3 playlist #playlist analysis

50 notes · View notes

steddieasitgoes · 4 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 30: Smut Themed Sentence Starters

I ended up using two sentences: "Who needs a sleigh ride when I can ride you instead" and "Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

Tags: Established Relationship, Implied Smut, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Eddie Munson Is A Menace, Steve Harrington Is A Romantic

wc: 1345 | Rating: M

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

Steve is a hopeless romantic.

Always has been and probably always will be.

Eddie pretends to hate it, but Steve knows the truth. That under all that leather and loud music is a giant teddy bear who swoons every time Steve shows up with a fresh bouquet of flowers or a pack of his favorite cigarettes from Melvalds.

Everyone else may be fooled, but not Steve.

Which is why Steve has to pull out all the stops for their first winter together as a couple.

He set the bar high last year when they were just friends and now he has to top it. Not because Eddie’s expecting it or anything, but because he wants to. Eddie deserves it. And honestly, so does Steve.

After watching hours of romantic holiday movies and driving around the local towns to see what winter activities they have to offer, Steve draws up the plan. He rents a small cabin two towns over where the snow is already two feet deep with more on the way and buys tickets to all the fun events the town has to offer. Well, almost all of the events. Ice skating is out of the question after last year’s incident left them both battered, bruised, and so sore they could barely get out of their own beds for the Hopper-Byers New Year’s Eve party.

So far, the vacation is everything Steve hoped it would be. They’ve played in the snow, eaten the best apple pie he’s ever gotten his hands on, and strolled around town whispering judgments about the over-the-top Christmas decorations people have outside their houses. They’ve also made themselves comfortable in the cabin — breaking in the bed and the couch and maybe even the indoor hot tub once or twice.

But today is the real showstopper. The grand finale to their little winter weekend getaway and the entire reason Steve booked this place in the first place.

They’re going on a reindeer-pulled sleigh ride through the picturesque snowy terrain of the town.

Or at least they’re supposed to be going on a reindeer-pulled sleigh ride.

“What do you mean you double booked?”

“It seems we accidentally scheduled you and another party for the two o’clock sleigh ride,” the woman behind the counter says. She’s older, graying hair pulled back in a neat bun and thin glasses falling down the bridge of her nose. Steve glares as her lips turn up in what is supposed to be an apologetic smile as she continues. “Since the other party included children, we assumed you wouldn’t mind giving up your spot for a refund.”

“Well, you assumed wrong,” Steve snaps, hands slamming down on the desk a bit more forceful than he had hoped. “You didn’t even give me a courtesy call to let me know of the cancelation.”

“We were just about to do that.”

“Bullshit! My reservation was scheduled for ten minutes ago. If you were going to call you would have done it the moment you realized your mistake.”

“I am sorry for the inconvenience Mr. Harrington but we only realized the error when the other family checked in early.”

“So if I was allowed to check in early like I tried to do, you would have let us keep our reservation?” Steve asks, growing more and more irritated by the second.

He and Eddie have been freezing their balls off for almost an hour now outside of the rustic shop. Even bundled up in their winter coats, beanies, and hand-knitted scarf and mitten set from Claudia hasn't been enough to keep them warm. It’s why he sent Eddie off in the direction of the hot chocolate stand while he tried to work his charm and get them into an earlier slot.

“Well, no, that’s not what I’m saying, but—“

“This is ridiculous,” Steve huffs, tugging at the hem of his scarf. “I booked this trip specifically for this sleigh ride and now you’re telling me I can’t go on it.”

“I understand your disappointment Mr. Harr—“

“Stop calling me that!” If there’s one thing Steve hates more than being unjustly inconvenienced it’s being referred to be his surname. He doesn’t need to be reminded of the man he shares his name with. Not now, not ever.

“Um, sorry…” the woman trails off and glances down at her schedule. “Steve. I can offer you a voucher for the trouble. Unfortunately, we are booked up for the rest of the week.”

“Keep the voucher and shove it,” Steve hisses before shoving himself away from the counter.

It takes him a minute to reign in his anger as he stomps his way toward Eddie. He’s sitting on a bench holding two cups of hot chocolate. Judging by the way his body shivers, they’re not doing much to keep him warm.

“Uh oh,” Eddie says, setting the cups aside when Steve gets closer. “I don’t like that frown.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. Gladys over there fucked with our reservation,” Steve sneers, plopping down on the bench. “Said they doubled booked us and voided our reservation to give to some couple with kids because she “figured I wouldn’t mind.” Of course, I fucking mind!”

“Oh sweetheart,” Eddie sighs, tugging Steve until he’s tucked securely under his left arm. “M’sorry. She sounds like a bitch.”

“Those kids aren’t even going to remember the sleigh ride when they’re older! But we would have!”

Eddie nods in agreement, nuzzling his cheek into the soft cotton of Steve’s beanie. The contact is almost enough to extinguish Steve’s anger. Almost.

“Now the vacation is ruined.”

“And you say I’m a drama queen,” Eddie teases, pulling away and twisting on the bench to face Steve. He tucks one leg under him and lets the other dangle off the bench before joining their hands together as best he can given they’re still wearing mittens. “Our vacation is not ruined. It’s been fun. Maybe our best one yet.”

“Yeah, well it could have been even better.”

“Oh come on,” Eddie tsks, squeezing his hand. “Who needs a sleigh ride when I can ride you instead.”

“Eddie!” Steve gapes. He can feel what little heat is in his body crawling its way to his cheeks, turning them a bright shade of red if he had to guess.

“Or you could ride me,” Eddie says, before leaning forward. He gets his lips on the shell of Steve’s ear before continuing, “You know I’m not picky.”

Suddenly the blood rushing to his face takes a detour traveling down, down, down until it settles in his dick. Steve can feel it twitch at Eddie’s word and the feeling of his warm breath against his ear.

“You’re a menace.”

Eddie hums, glancing around to make sure no one is watching them before letting his hand drift to Steve’s lap. He moves slowly at first, teasing him until his hand finally settles on the apparent bulge in his pants.

“M’ you like it though, don’t ya big boy,” Eddie says, giving an experimental squeeze before pulling his hand away completely. When Steve looks up, he’s staring at him with those big round mischievous eyes of his. “Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

Steve groans both in pleasure and in exasperation. He buries his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck for a moment before pulling away. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Hey, it put a smile on your face didn’t it.”

It did. Though, if he’s honest with himself, Eddie always puts a smile on his face. Even when he’s being an annoying, teasing, little shithead. Leaning forward to close the distance, Steve gives him a quick kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“Christ, your lips are freezing.”

“Better take me inside and warm me up.”

Steve gets himself on his feet before turning around to offer a hand to Eddie. “Come on then, I think I know just how to get you nice and warm, baby.”

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie smut #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

88 notes · View notes

allzelemonz · 10 months

Text

Watching: Charles Smith X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, implied homosexuality, Reader referred to as ‘feller’ and ‘mister’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence, murder Warnings: Soft Charles, protective Charles, unwanted flirting, kissing, fluff, unestablished relationship, sober consent, flirting, bar fights, babysitting drunk friends Summary: The Van der Linde gang in a saloon always spells some kind of trouble, so a few of you stay sober to watch the others.

There is not a care in the entire saloon. Dutch has put down enough money for the gang to drink itself silly ten times over and most have taken full advantage. There are a few, like you, Hosea, and Charles, that have been designated as responsible. Abigail is the other but you haven’t seen her in about an hour, you stopped worrying when you noticed John’s absence as well. You watch your drunken friends dance and pick petty fights, taking up nearly the entire saloon. There’s only a few strangers, mostly working girls getting cozy with free drinks until they pull someone upstairs, but there’s also a few troublesome men that you keep an eye on. One of them was hitting on Karen earlier and she made it clear she wasn’t interested. He kept coming back, so you broke a bottle over his head and Charles helped you drag him out. Overall, a standard night.

Until a man decides to talk to you. “Hey, darlin’.”

You glance at him. He has a crooked nose and skin peeling from a sunburn hidden behind an unkempt beard. At the very least, he’s bold for hitting on a man in a public space.

“Mister.” You give him a nod.

He grins, showing that he lacks most of his teeth. “Ya look like a strong feller.”

The glare you give him doesn’t seem to deter him.

“Got a handsome face too.” He giggles, leaning towards you. “Ya like fellers, mister.”

A hand lightly pushes him back before anything further happens, Charles steps between you. He stands up straight, crossing his arms. The man stumbles on his feet and opens his mouth to speak, but he stops when he sees Charles. You ignore the rest of the altercation, turning back to continue cleaning the ring you’d taken from the man that had bothered Karen. You assume the sleazy man that had been talking to you ran away because Charles sits next to you.

“I could’ve handled him.” You mutter.

Charles sighs. “I know.”

“You’re supposed to be watching the idiots.” You gesture to a drunken Sean as he attempts to climb onto a table. “Not me.”

“Maybe I like watching you.”

You look over at Charles and find his focus on the crowd and no discernible expression on his face. Then he turns, still no change in his expression, but now you can see a certain sparkle in his eyes.

“Are you suggesting something, Mister Smith?”

“Maybe.” He cracks a slight smile. “What if I am?”

Your attention is drawn by the sound of a gunshot and you turn, following everyone’s eyes to Sadie. On the ground in front of her is a man that you can assume deserved the bullet he got. In a second, once everyone registers the event, the saloon erupts in chaos. Hosea already has a few of the girls towards the door so you go to pull some of the others from the fight. Charles drags Arthur away just as you manage to shove Micah and Javier to the back exit. It takes a few trips, a few punches, even a disarming as one man drew a knife, but you get everyone out to the horses where Hosea waits. Abigail reappears as well, helping with the girls while Hosea gets everyone in some sort of formation on the horses. He places Charles in front to guide everyone back with himself, you, and Abigail along the sides to make sure no one does anything stupid along the way. If it wasn’t for the fight and the murder you’d stay in the hotel, but Hosea isn’t so sure that’s a good idea now.

So you ride back, only having to glare at a giggling Sean and Lenny a few times as they whisper about running off so you have to chase them. The trees are a welcome sight when they come into view. Getting everyone to bed doesn’t happen because Dutch makes a speech and Uncle passes out beers. A new party begins, this one not in need of babysitters. Hosea thanks you for helping before he goes off to his tent, leaving you and Charles with the mess of horses to get settled. Kieran offers to help, probably having been bored with most people and horses gone from camp, but Charles waves him off.

As you get the last of the saddles off, Charles leans against the hitching post you set it on. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you situate the saddle.

“So you do like watching me?” You ask, turning to him.

He shrugs. “Can you blame me?”

“What makes you so confident tonight?” You ask as you lean next to him.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Arthur might’ve given me a shot.”

“Just one?”

He shakes his head with a bit of a smile.

“Am I going to have to thank Arthur?”

“Depends.” Charles says, leaning a little closer. “Do you like watching me?”

You shrug. “Can you blame me?”

He slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours. Piece by piece, his hands find your face to hold it in place and yours find his waist to pull him closer. He’s warm and you can taste the whiskey when he deepens the kiss.

You pull away a bit. “I’m not doing this if you’re drunk, Charles.”

He hums. “I’m not.”

“You’re sure.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, ducking his head. “I promise, you’d know if I was drunk.”

You smile. “Are you a crazy drunk?”

He returns the smile, looking up at you again. “I can be a little stupid.”

“You promise you’re not drunk?” You sigh. “That you’re coming onto me sober?”

“I promise.” He mumbles. “Can you kiss me now?”

You oblige, pecking his lips. “Do you want to go to my tent?”

“Please.” He mutters against your lips before he presses another kiss to them.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader #charles smith #charles smith x reader #charles smith x male reader

135 notes · View notes