#i just wanted to passively enjoy it but now i can’t stop thinking about it

[uncouth-the-fifth]

here is my collection of sam and dean winchester reader-inserts 🧛‍♂️👻 enjoy!

Baby I'll Stay (Heaven Can Wait) (witch glamors, fluff, motel smut)

On a hunt with Sam and Dean, your childhood friends and long-term hunting partners, you choose to play bait in order to kill a powerful witch. Thing is, the witch uses a glamor that masks him as the seer's perfect partner—and to you, he looks exactly like Sam.

(You Are A) Natural, Baby (virgin Sam, pure impala sex lol)

part one (oral): You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

part two (oral, sex): “No wonder you’re so wet,” Sam rasps, “you’re already close, aren’t you?” You conceded with a pathetic nod, breathing hard. “All this just from blowing me…” Sam smirks.

Playing House (fake dating + couples cruise) for @daiziesssart

part one: You rolled around everything you wanted to explain to him in your head, but none of it sounded right. Somehow, you landed on: “You think it’s gonna be weird, pretending to be married?” Sam shrugged. “We did it all the time when we were kids, playin’ house.” He closed the zipper of his boot, flashing you an innocent smile. “Can’t be that different, right?"

part two: “My name is _____ Patton,” you introduce in your smoothest, surest voice, “and this is my amazing husband Sam. We’ve been married for…” “—three weeks now,” Sam finishes for you.

Click (first time + cozy winter cabin aesthetic) for @daffodil-mania

“I’m just wondering,” Sam winces, knowing his question is stupid, “why are you still a virgin?” You’re about to laugh in his face, but the earnestness in Sam’s voice makes you hesitate. His question is a genuine one. “...That sounds awful, m’ sorry. But, c’mon. You’re smart enough to know how pretty you are. Charmin’ enough to use it, too. I mean, I’d…” He caught himself. “—Anyone, would, uh…” Sam didn’t finish his thought. He changed his grip on the shotgun swinging from his hand, self-conscious, and cleared his throat. Well. That wasn’t obvious at all. No way in hell you were leaving that alone.

Click, p.2 (angsty love confession sex + season five) for @daffodil-mania

He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things. You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?” Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”

Mandy Davis, you punk ass bitch (birthday fluff for the boy!!!)

You wake up early to make sure you're the first person to wish Sam a happy birthday—since he's basically never had one before.

One of These Nights (cheating-but-not actually angst + Impala makeup sex) for @lacilou

“S’ a good night,” Dean tells you, beaming, “we can do another round, right?” “Hell yeah,” you shrug, and raise your empty glass, “Here’s to alcohol poisoning, baby.” “Yeah,” Dean echoes, almost slurring. “Baby."

#uncouthspn #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

oooh ok so i think something really fitting for dark luke would be him manipulating reader into joining kronos’ army and then reader realises that it’s wrong and tries to leave but he won’t let them (he perhaps might kidnap them just to keep them with him)🤭🤭🤭

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Minor Violence. 

Took me a long time to write it but here it is finally, so enjoy 😊

--

“Y/N, c’mon. We gotta hurry up.” 

You remain silent, feet fixed on the floor, bothered by the troublesome tentacles of doubt and uneasiness that have started to round you up. 

You had always agreed with Luke’s perspective on the Gods. Comforted him when Luke’s anger and anguish got the best out of him. Supported him when he rambled about the imperative need to act, to defy the Gods.

You understood him.

You had your fair share of bitterness and hatred dedicated to your own mother, something that often led to crying yourself to sleep. 

You even helped him design the plan that made sure that Zeus’ Lightning Bolt was stolen without the fault falling on Luke. 

But now… now things feel different. It feels wrong. Very wrong.

You’re not sure what changed, but as you passively observe Luke hastily stuffing some of your clothes into a small bag, you realize you can't do this.

Because it means to betray the only place that ever felt like home. To turn your back on the people you called friends. 

“I can’t go with you.”

Your words come out in a low tone, barely above a whisper and Luke stops for a moment, hands dangerously clenching around a few shirts of yours.

You think he’s going to say something, but as quick as the moment comes, it also goes away and your boyfriend resorts to ignoring you. 

“The rest of your shirts won’t fit here.” he says, with a strained voice. “But it’s fine. We can get you more clothes when we get there.”

A shaky sigh comes from you before you can stop it.

“Luke, I’m not going with you.” 

Luke tenses up and you nervously gulp when he twists his neck to glare at you with a mix of impatience, anger and exasperation and shakes his head before returning his attention to the bag, zipping it close. 

“Luke-”

“You’re not ditching me. Now right now.” he snaps at you, turning to fully face you. “You promised me you were on my side. Hell, you even helped me begin this. And now you’re abandoning me, seriously?” 

You shake your head, reaching for his hand. He lets you hold it, despite the angry frown he has. 

“This isn’t right, Luke. We can’t just-”

“But you get it, right? You get why I’m - we - are doing this, right?” he tugs you closer by the hand, his other hand wrapping itself around your other hand’s wrist.

Pulling you so close that you can practically see the rageful emotions exploding in his eyes. 

“It’s for a good cause. All of this! We’re doing this to stop the Gods, stop them from always getting away with every shitty action of theirs.” 

You look at him, pure confliction itching your heart and mind and Luke seems to notice that. 

“We’re in this together, okay?” his eyes beg you to accept it, to accept him. To be his partner in crime. “You and me against the world. Having each other’s backs.”

But as much as you want to, it’s not something you can do. 

Luke’s face falls at the tears shining in your eyes - a clear synonym of your decision.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I really am.” 

For a moment, his jaw tenses up and you think Luke is gonna shout at you. That you’re no better than the Gods. That you too have betrayed him when he needs you the most. 

But he doesn’t. 

“So am I.” your brows squirm in confusion at his apologetic words and the only warning you get is a light squeeze of his palms on your hands. 

It happens so fast that you barely have time to react. 

He shoves you hard with one of his hands grabbing the back of your head, smashing your skull against the hard wall.

The pain is excruciating, stars exploding in your vision and you feel a strange numbness disseminating through your body. Your knees give up and you’d almost fall if Luke’s arms weren’t there to grab you, softly rocking you till your back meets the floor. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” his voice sounds distant, your brain slowly disconnecting as you lean towards the darkness,

“...but I can’t let you walk away from me.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #dark luke castellan #dark luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere luke castellan x reader #tw: toxic relationships

[daydreamingyuta]

Could you write a jaehyun x reader & them hugging like the scene in tangled? The one where she jumps over the couch and they hug each other tightly hehe

I SAW THAT SCENE AND I COULDNT STOP THINKING OF JAEHYUN 😭😭😭😭😭

Necklace | Jaehyun

summary: fluff, drabble, boyfriend!jaehyun decides to surprise you with a necklace you've been wanting for a while, because he knows your reaction will be cute. a/n: stopp this is such a cute request! thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy reading! <3 wc: 627

You really thought Jaehyun wasn’t listening to you. You tried to not let it bother you, it’s really not that big of a deal. However, deep down inside you couldn’t help but be a little sad. 

You had been talking about this gorgeous necklace from Tiffany’s for a while now, hoping that Jaehyun would get the not-so-subtle hint that you wanted him to get it for you. It seemed like everytime you mentioned it, he was only passively listening. It wasn’t like you expected him to get it for you, but his unresponsiveness was what was killing you. Little did you know, Jaehyun just wanted to surprise you with the necklace once he got it. 

When he had asked you to come over to his apartment after work, you didn’t suspect a thing. You two tried to see each other as much as you could, so nothing about this felt irregular. 

“Hey, angel. How was work?” Jaehyun says, engulfing you in a warm hug that feels like heaven. You take a moment to take in the scent of his fresh clothes and cologne that never failed to make you feel at home. 

“It was alright. You know that big project that we’ve been working on? It’s stressing me out so bad, but it looks like it will be done by the end of next week.” 

“Hm.” Jaehyun hums, rubbing your shoulders to try and relax you. “Why don’t you go into my closet and change into some of my comfortable clothes so you can de-stress?”

Your face lights up when he says this, you loved wearing his clothes so much. You practically skip into his room and pick out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. By the time you’re changed, Jaehyun was on the couch in the living room. 

“Y/n, come into the living room when you're done.” Jaehyun yells, so that you’ll be able to hear him, he must not have noticed you right behind him. You were about to say something, when you noticed a little blue Tiffany’s bag. You could barely hold in your excitement, not at the necklace itself, but the fact that Jaehyun had been listening to you this whole time, and went out of his way to get you something to make you happy.

You couldn’t help but rush to him with a big hug that causes you to fall on the couch, right next to him, his arm tightly around your waist supporting you up. “Jae, you got it for me?” You beam, pulling him into a sweet kiss.

“Are you surprised?” Jaehyun asked, with a very pleased look on his face.

“Of course, I really didn’t think you were listening to me.”

“Hm, I’m sorry. I just thought it would make my pretty girl happier if I surprised you.” 

You nod your head adamantly, “It was definitely better, Jae.

He takes the necklace out of the bag and signals for you to turn around so that he can put it on you. You oblige and lift your hair up as well. He clasps the necklace on and places a sweet kiss on the back of your neck before turning you around so he can see it. He touches your collarbone and traces his finger down to the necklace, lifting it up to admire it. “Pretty.”

You can’t help but give him another kiss before you go look at it in the mirror. It’s such a beautiful necklace, you honestly can’t believe you’re wearing it right now. Jaehyun comes behind you while you’re admiring it in the mirror and wraps his arms around your waist and sways gently. “I love spoiling you, angel.” He says, pressing more kisses onto your neck, before resting his head on your shoulder. 

#jaehyun #fluff #nct #nct 127 #drabble #k-pop #imagine #nct scenarios #established relationship #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #nct fanfic #fanfiction #jeong jaehyun

[silversainz]

I really enjoy your writing! Could you possibly write 21 “your body is mine, not his, not anybody else’s, and I’ll fuck you till you remember that” with Lando where you tell everyone you’re just friends but your obviously so much more and he gets jealous one night

# warnings — mean!lando, choking, crying, begging, being tied up, degradation, passive aggressive lando, dirty talk, sub!reader, oral (f!male receiving), p n v, unprotected sex (don’t do that).

It was a joke really, a light and innocent joke. But lando clearly took it serious as he completely shut down, jaw clenching and hand roughly grabbing onto the table mat as your friend continued to tease you about the oh-so innocent joke he’d made.

“Come on, you’ve both been friends for what..” your friend started counting with his fingers, until a dramatic gasp left his lips “five years and you still are not together, wow, losers” everybody at the table laughed including you, not having the heart to ruin the joke and tell everyone that you and lando were actually together.

So you went along with the joke, which made lando even more pissed off.

“Yeah, yeah, just friends” you patted lando’s shoulder. Which he brushed off, eyes dark as he looked over at you. Which made your stomach twist in knots, knowing that look very well.

“Yeah friends in loveee” your friend dragged out the word, again, making laughter erupt from all around the table.

“Nope just friends” lando’s hand dropped from gripping onto the table mat, to disappear underneath the table hand grabbing onto your thigh hardly, so hard you had to bite onto your lip to suppress the whine that wanted to leave.

“So” you looked over to where your friends friend was at, leaning back in his chair a cheeky smirk on his face as he crossed his arms, “you’re single is what you’re saying” now that wasn’t something innocent in lando’s eyes, making him sit up straight, to look at the man clearly.

“She’s not single”

That was the final word from lando as you both walked through the door to your home. The slamming of the door behind you made you jump, skin crawling with nervousness and fear.

You placed your coat and purse on the edge of the couch, turning around to look at the man who stood by the door hands undoing the tie around his neck, stern eyes looking at you.

“A joke-“ you started.

“Don’t even” he sternly said cutting you off. He walked over to you cupping your cheeks tightly in his hand, shutting all the words that wanted to come out. “wasn’t an innocent joke, love” he brushed your hair away from your shoulders, before wrapping his hand tightly around your neck tugging your head forward, lips brushing against each other.

“Made him think he could have you, when” he hoisted you up, legs wrapped around his waist as he brought you over to the kitchen table, where he laid you down at. Hands spreading your legs open to settle himself in-between them. “he can’t have you, right” he wasted no time in getting rid of your panties, tugging them down your legs while pushing your dress up to rest on your torso.

“Such a pretty girl” your back arched feeling him land a slap to your throbbing cunt. ‘But you’re fucking mine” without warning he pushed two fingers into your wet cunt, making cries leave your lips at the harsh thrusting of his fingers.

“Fuck lando” you hands grabbed onto the edge of the table for support.

He got down on his knees pulling your body close to his face as he buried his face in-between your legs, wet mouth licking every inch of your cunt. Your back arched off the table, hand roughly threading through his hair. As loud Moans left your mouth, echoing off the walls.

“This is mine” he spoke, landing another slap to your cunt. “Not his” your stomach clenched up legs beginning to shake around his head, but he showed no signs of stopping his abuse to your cunt, as his tongue slipped in and out of your hole, while landing more slaps to your dripping cunt.

“Fuck lando, please, please” tears pricked out the corner of your tears pleasure becoming too much for you to handle as he hold onto your hips so you couldn’t move away from his tongue.

“I’m gonna cum, please”

“Your body is mine, not his, not anybody else’s, and I’ll fuck you till you remember that” your eyes rolled back, loud moans and cries fell from your mouth as your entire body shook as you reached your climax. “Pretty fucking, baby. Only i could make you feel like this” he got from his knees, hovering over you, his hand softly creasing your cheek before landing a soft slap to it.

You whimper, legs hurting, cunt clenching around nothing. “Only you” you softly said, hearing him hum as he undid his belt.

He took his belt off with ease, immediately tiring your hands together with the black leather belt, pinning them above your head. He pushed his pants down just enough for his cock to spruce free, the sight had your mouth watering and a shiver being sent down your spine.

“I’m gonna show you just how much we aren’t friends, and” he teased you, his tip sliding up and down your wet folds. “Just how much you belong to me, and only me”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris drabble #lando norris imagine #f1 drabbles

[tatsumessy]

Hidden Feeling - {part 2}

“It’s the big day!” Your little sister says fixing your hair while smiling at you through the mirror. “I know…” the solem tone in your voice raised some red flags in your sisters head. “What’s wrong? It’s your big day!” She repeated and you just rolled your eyes not wanting to make eye contact with her. “It’s not just my big day, it’s mine and Sae’s. I know he was fine with paparazzi being here I just don’t know how I feel about it.” She sighed and turned you around in the chair to look at her.

“Just think of it as it just being you two.” She said rubbing your arms and smiling at you. “But what if she’s there? I don’t think I can do it…I’m too scared.” You said hugging your body then turning back around in the chair. “So you don’t want to marry me now?” Letting out an annoyed groan you didn’t want to turn around because you already knew he had this look of disappointment on his face.

“Give us a minute.” He said to your little sister, you could hear her heels clinking against the floor then exiting the room. “Y/n. Look at me. Baby look at me.” He said standing behind you with his hand on your head. “What’s wrong?” He leaned down and started kissing on your cheek, “I just don’t like the thought of everyone here…I wanted our wedding to be small and private…” “I know how to fix that.” He said standing up and walking towards the door.

“Put your dress on.” He exited the room and closed the door behind himself. After ten minutes he came back into the room with the marriage official, “Sae what is this?” You said standing up and holding onto the bottom of your dress, “we’re getting married right here right now just the way you want it.” There was a small blush on your cheeks as you walked closer to your soon to be husband and grabbed his face. You leaned in and placed a kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

“Put it on, stop being so difficult.” You said fixing the buttons on your husbands shirt and glancing over his shoulder to make sure that your kids were behaving themselves while you were out in public. Your eldest son is nine, your middle kids are seven and then your youngest is three and then last but not least you’re five months pregnant with your fifth child. “We’ve been doing this for too long, I’m tired.” He said undoing the necktie that you just fixed along with the microphone.

“ITOSHI SAE! Stop it. This is the last interview for the year before our family trip. Please behave, how are your kids doing better than you?” He scoffed and refixed his tie then placed a kiss on your lips before leaving the room and walking onto the stage. Everyone clapped and cheered as he sat down and had this passive aggressive attitude towards the lady. The same interviewer who had a lot to say 11 years ago.

“Before you start this irrelevant conversation I have a question for you myself. Are you still trying to chase after men you know you can’t have? Or are you still being a gold digger?” Everyone in the crowd gasped at his question but then started laughing at her reaction. She was pissed, beyond pissed at that. “I-I only had one question. How’s life been so far since your shotgun secret wedding?”

“I’ve truly enjoyed life with my WIFE and my children. I’m very happy with how everything has been and I’m excited to see how we will grow especially since my WIFE and I are expecting our fifth child in four months.” People started clapping at the news while you sat there in shock, as much as the world knew you only had one child. Now they know you’re on your fifth child. “Five kids?” She asked setting her notecards down and looking up at him, “yes I guess you can say I just LOVE my WIFE.” he emphasized while looking at his watch for the time.

“We are all glad you’ve found the happiness you’ve wanted and more.” She said not making eye contact with Sae then ending the live interview. Sae exited the stage and headed straight towards the dressing room to come and see you. Just in the time span of 15 minutes he missed you, a lot. “Stop running Sae.” You said from behind him as you had just walked out the bathroom with your youngest daughter standing behind you. He turned and gently grabbed your face to kiss you.

“I love you Y/n.” you glanced up at him in confusion. “I love you Sae.” you responded rubbing his cheek as he looked down and hurriedly picked up his daughter who was hiding behind your leg. “And I love you SiSi.” he said kissing her cheek and making her laugh from her shy nature.

Later that night while you and your kids were sleeping on the sofa from watching a movie, Sae had taken a photo of you all and posting it on his instagram.

Caption: My forever goal 💞

dc: @marisely03

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x mc #blue lock x you #bllk x y/n #sae imagines #bllk sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae blue lock #sae x you #sae itoshi #blue lock sae #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #bllk sae itoshi #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk x female reader

[pinksomovember]

Day 1 - In A Car [ao3]

Ivy rocked on her heel folded under her.

“I’m going to piss myself,” she said, a slight whine bleeding into her otherwise joking tone.

Nora didn’t respond. Ivy had been complaining on-and-off for the past hour, with increasing frequency, and had started shortly after a stop that had a bathroom.

“I seriously don’t think I’ve ever had to pee this bad in my life,” Ivy continued. “It’s starting to hurt.”

“You could’ve gone at the gas station,” Nora said.

Ivy didn’t appreciate the condescending scolding. She felt like a water balloon that was still attached to the hose, bulging more and more with every second, with only a matter of time before it went pop. Her only outlet was to fidget, simultaneously squeezing her thighs together and rocking back and forth onto her foot so it pressed up against her pussy. In combination with the seam of her jean shorts digging up against her—working its way into a wedgie—her urethra had plenty of pressure to help it stay closed. That was only going to work for so long, though.

“You didn’t see the bathrooms,” Ivy argued. They’d been disgusting—shit on the back of the seat, a truly foul smelling liquid seeping along the corners of the floor, and flies everywhere. Not to mention how every surface was covered in stains and dried flecks of who-knows-what. If it had been cleaned in the past month Ivy would eat one of her socks.

She’d had to pee, decently bad, when they had stopped there. But under no circumstances would Ivy use that bathroom. Except for maybe (just maybe) right now.

She thought she’d be able to hold it. They were only a few hours out from their destination and she could always get Nora to stop at a rest stop or a gas station if it really got bad. Ivy, however, hadn’t realized that they were about to exit fucking civilization. There had been nothing for the past fifty miles other than cattle and the occasional cornfield!

“If you weren’t chugging those iced teas-”

“I’ve stopped!”

Ivy might’ve also forgotten to factor in how much liquid had still been moving its way through her system, too. It was a habit for her to sip at sugary drinks when she was bored.

A wave of desperation so strong that Ivy dug her nails into her thighs swept through her.

“Ohhh my god,” she moaned. “I can’t do this. Jesus fucking Christ.”

There was so much pee inside her right now her bladder was visibly pushing up against her skin, firm and tight and aching between her hips. She had given up on the seatbelt, and the button of her shorts, well over fifteen minutes ago. Ivy kind of wanted to cry.

Nora softened. “You going to be alright, babe?”

“I don’t know. Yes, probably. Maybe.”

“I can always pull over,” she offered. “You’d have to piss on the side of the road, though.”

Ivy shook her head adamantly. “No, there’s way too much traffic.”

They fell into silence for a few minutes, aside from the staticy music of one of the few radio station’s Nora’s truck was picking up and the occasional curse from Ivy.

“Are you enjoying it, at least? At least a little?” Nora asked, breaking the quiet.

“What?” Ivy practically panted. Her breathing was rough as she tried to huff and puff her way through the worst of the desperation.

“Just.” Nora seemed a bit embarrassed, keeping her eyes completely glued to the road. “You’re…y’know. Piss thing.”

“It’s not a piss thing,” Ivy hissed, mortified. Even though it was, at least partially, a piss thing.

It wasn’t her fault that having a full bladder turned her on. From what Ivy understood, it was just simple biology! The fuller that most women’s bladder’s get, the more it puts pressure on all the internal pleasure hotspots. A little like cockwarming a moderately small toy, just without any form of firmness that a foreign object would feel like. It felt good in a slow building, passive sort of way.

Getting off with all that weight in her lower belly also felt good. A little bit of extra flare to a still otherwise damn good orgasm. 

But she wouldn’t say she was into piss. The idea of the smell and the mess alone was enough to turn her off to it. Holding it on occasion until it was just starting to edge into too much was plenty enough for her.

Although, she had to admit, she wasn’t exactly turned off to it right now.

Each tight squeeze of her thighs stimulated her a little bit. Every rock back pressed the bone of her heel into the squelching slickness of her pussy, which was absolutely soaking her panties despite knowing damn well that she hadn’t leaked a single drop of pee yet. And with all that movement, the seam of her shorts was pulled tight against her unmistakably hard clit.

“Well, are you?” Nora asked.

“I-” Ivy stopped herself. Her face was burning. “Yeah, maybe. So what, I still have to pee more than I have to—or whatever, want to—get off.”

Nora stole a side glance at Ivy. Something dark, heedy, interested came over her expression as she drank in how Ivy looked.

Ivy sacrificed one of her hands clawing into her thigh as a grounding method to cover her face. This was embarrassing enough as it was without having to talk about her kinks. Even if Nora seemed to be getting into it.

“Oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” Ivy chanted, forgetting her embarrassment entirely. The wave of desperation felt incredibly, suddenly like a physical wave. She could feel it surging against the sphincter muscles of her urethra. 

She wiggled her hips side to side to try and fight through it. The movement caused her shorts, already so tight against her cunt, to shift. Her clit was trapped between the seam and her pubic bone, but couldn’t stay in place with this new movement. The seam fucking stroked her aching clit, slipping to the side before grinding right back over it with the next sway of her hips.

“Hu-uhn,” Ivy couldn’t help but moan. “Uh, uh, uh!”

“Fuck,” Nora cursed, breathless.

Ivy couldn’t process the difference between her desperation for relief and her sudden, surging need to cum. Everything was much too much and not enough at the same time. 

“Fuckfuckfuck. Jesus Christ. Uhaha.” Ivy sobbed a couple times. It was part laugh and part horniness and part overwhelmed. She couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt like an out-of-body event while also being the most physically animal experience she had ever had.

“God. You feeling good, baby?” Nora asked. 

“Y-y-yes!” Ivy wailed. “It’s- fuck, it’s so good. I’m so wet. Shit, I’m so- I’ve gotta piss so bad.”

Nora took her right hand off the wheel to grab Ivy’s leg. Her other hand held onto the wheel so tight her knuckles were turning white. There was something wild about her. Something that, if she didn’t have to focus so much of her attention on the road, might’ve swept her up in the same way Ivy’s desperation was.

“You gonna play with yourself, baby?” Nora asked. “Gonna play with your clit while you piss yourself?”

“Don’t- don’t wanna piss myself,” Ivy whined. Nevertheless, she did as Nora suggested and grabbed tight between her legs. Her shorts were too tight and were getting in the way of actually being able to touch herself effectively, but the pressure helped reel in her bladder’s demands a little bit.

“Ives, baby, there’s no bathrooms for miles yet.”

A reedy noise broke in Ivy’s throat.

“I know, I know,” Nora said, hand squeezing at Ivy’s thigh. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“This is so fucking embarassing,” Ivy managed, laughing incredulously. “I’m seriously gonna wet myself. Fuck.”

“I don’t care. Fuck, baby, looking like that…I’d let you ruin anything.”

“Hm?” Ivy hummed. Her whole cunt was pulsing, vagina and pussy lips and clit. She was so wet she wouldn’t even be surprised if a spot was showing up on her shorts, soaked straight through her panties. Her body was building up to something—so high up she was almost afraid of it—unsure if it would be the dams breaking involuntarily or an orgasm so intense it would be the best she’d ever had.

“You look so fucking good, Ives,” Nora rasped. “I could eat you alive.”

“I…” Ivy wavered. She didn’t know what she wanted to say. 

“It’s okay,” Nora said. “It’s gonna happen either way, isn’t it? Unless you changed your mind about the side of the road?”

They were on a two-laned highway, a couple of cars in either direction always in sight. Stopping would mean even more cars, as the ones behind them passed them by. 

“No, absolutely not. It’d end up on the- on the fucking Internet or something.”

Nora massaged her thumb against Ivy’s skin. “Then I’m sorry, baby, but you’re gonna have to piss yourself.”

“’S bullshit,” Ivy mumbled. Tears were pricking up in her eyes. The side-to-side wiggling was simultaneously not doing enough to help her hold it and doing a frustratingly inconsistent too-much-not-enough to get her off. She resorted back to rocking, with no sign of pausing the mounting something that was steadily creeping up on her.

“We’ve got a ton of clothes in the back,” Nora soothed. “And towels, and baby wipes, and our rental is pretty far from any neighbors so nobody’ll see you walking in your wet clothes. And it won’t take too much to clean the truck, and I don’t mind cleaning it up, okay?”

“But-”

“It’s not a big deal,” Nora insisted, a bit of firmness edging in. “Understand?”

Ivy nodded tightly. She did understand, even if she could barely think. 

“Now, since it’s gonna happen anyways, you want to make yourself feel good?”

“Already am,” Ivy said. “Might, fuck, I don’t know. Might cum.”

“Just like that?”

“May- uhn- maybe.”

“Fuck.” She sounded reverent. “You wanna touch yourself, baby? Wanna stick your fingers down your shorts?”

Ivy nodded, frantic. She was so close, to coming, to pissing, to doing both. She just couldn’t quite get there.

Her fingers felt fucking heavenly. Her pussy was a mess of sticky slick, audibly squishing as she pushed her hand beneath the waistband of her panties and into the lips of her pussy. Just brushing against her clit was enough to cause her to shout out, trembling at the sudden stimulation of sensitive nerves.

“Just like that, baby. Fuck, look at you. It feels good?”

“Yes! Fuck, ohmygod. Hnnnuh.”

Ivy’s fingers were clumsy, sitting up and trapped in her shorts and obstructed by the clamping of her thighs. But God, it didn’t even matter. She grinded her cunt on her heel and the drag of the cotton and denim against her pussy made everything all the better and her fingers fumbling over her clit was dragging her up up up.

“Keep playing with your clit, baby. Just like that, yeah. Just how you like it.”

“Gonna- fuck!”

“You gonna cum, Ives?”

“Wanna,” Ivy cried. “So- fuck, please, please. Wanna…I’m so…”

“Or are you gonna piss?”

“Fuck!” Ivy wailed. Her pleasure crested, sharp and violent and hard enough that her whole body shook. She threw her head back into the seat, practically seizing. She barely recognized the sounds she was making as something coming from her mouth, unfamiliar from any other she’d made before.

“Oh my god,” Nora was saying, somewhere in the distance. “Fuck, baby. Fuck.”

Ivy was still shaking, still somewhere high up. 

“Need’ta piss,” she slurred. “Need’ta…uhn, I need’ta…”

Nora said something. Ivy registered only that it was meant to be encouraging.

“Uh, uhn, ohhhhhh fuck. Oh-”

Ivy’s fingers were still against her cunt, and she felt the first hot trickle of piss against them. It wasn’t enough, though, not even registering as relief. The sensation of liquid leaving her bladder, however, passing through her weakening sphincter and soaking into her shorts, bordered into the same amount of pleasure as playing with her clit usually was.

So soon after her orgasm, she felt overstimulated. There was still way too much pressure and it was taking a strenuous amount of concentration to keep even the tiny stream going and everything still felt so fucking good.

“Nnn…Nora,” Ivy sobbed. “I can’t-”

“Relax, Ives, relax. It’s okay, you can do it.”

“Can’t-”

Nora let go of Ivy’s thigh and instead tucked her hand beneath Ivy’s wrist of the hand still down her shorts to place her palm against her belly. “I’m gonna push down a bit, okay? Just relax.”

Ivy hiccuped, but nodded. She was still managing a thin stream of piss, seeping into the seat of her shorts and just barely beginning to form a puddle under her butt, but her bladder was screaming at her.

Nora pushed down and Ivy squirmed violently. The pressure was so much more but it wasn’t doing anything but hurting. She had to piss so bad and she couldn’t and inexplicably she felt like she could cum again just like this but not quite. And then her urethra gave way.

“Ohmy god,” Ivy choked. The piss flooded out of her.

It didn’t even feel like she was sitting in the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car, her entire bottom was so suddenly drenched. She might as well have been sitting in the tub in a few inches of bathwater. Hot, very slightly piss-scented, bathwater.

It was euphoric. She might’ve been cumming again, for all the pleasure searing through her as her release hissed through her panties and pooled on the fabric seat faster than it could soak it up. She genuinely couldn’t tell.

The stream was hot and steady against her fingers as it sprayed out of her. Absently, she petted along her inner labia. 

“Shit,” Nora said, like she was in awe. “Shit.”

The stream started to peter out, in fits and bursts. Just when Ivy thought it was over another gush would start up, each one a little weaker than the last.

There was a dull drip, drip, drip as the puddle on the seat dripped onto the floorboards.

Nora’s eyes darted between the road and Ivy, with a desperate sort of want. “Oh my god, Ives. That was…”

“I think I’m still going,” Ivy said. She felt a little fuzzy around the edges, numb in the very tips of her fingers and toes and slightly cross eyed. Fucked out.

“Fuck,” Nora whispered, enthralled.

 The final dredges of her bladder’s contents were still dribbling out of her, like her urethra couldn’t quite figure out how to close back up. Ivy tried to force it a bit, by clenching up, but all that caused was a violent shiver to rush up her spine and a soft little gasp.

Finally, finally, Ivy felt herself stop peeing.

“Mmmm,” she hummed, satisfied and spent and high on sex. 

“You okay?” Nora asked. Her hand was back to Ivy’s thigh, mindless of the piss starting to cool on her skin.

“Yeah,” Ivy sighed, sleepy and pliant. “M’great. Maybe, uh, in a bit you could get a towel outta the back?”

“Yeah,” Nora agreed. “’Course, baby.”

#omovember #omorashi #fem omo #day 1 #original work #piss kink #original character #omovember 2023 #fic

[irisintheafterglow]

End Game #8 (volleyball captain!gojo x you)

summary: you accompany the captain at a party on the gojo estate and he can't be serious for a single second.

wc: 2.1k

cw/tags: swearing, domestic satoru, creepy old men and therefore protective satoru, no specified gender but reader is wearing a dress, passive-aggressive insults because he's never serious ever, a tiny tiny bit of angst but lots of fluff, established relationship (i never get tired of tagging this)

note: there's no volleyball game play in this, just captain!satoru being captain boyfriend!satoru. also i'm literally creating a multiverse of characters in this au cuz there's like the gojo partner but then also the geto partner and soon i wanna make the inumaki partner and yeah i could talk about this for HOURS but ANYWAY hope you enjoy

likes, reblogs, and feedback are always appreciated <3

An infuriatingly obnoxious loop of “Get up, stupid, or I’ll hit you with my car!” invades your sleep and your hand flops aimlessly to turn your phone off. 

You prop yourself on an elbow, checking the clock on the nightstand and groaning when you see the time. “Satoru,” you say softly, but you’re met with a half-asleep grunt from the other occupant of the bed. The entire right side of his face is sunk into the sheets and his arm is still draped over your torso. He’d never looked more handsome, you thought, taking in the messy strands of white hair on the pillows and his limbs entangled with yours. You pat him gently, trying to crawl out from the blankets. “We have to get up now.”

“No, we don’t,” he mutters into bed, pulling you back down beside him onto the mattress effortlessly. With his chest to your back, he sighs deeply onto your neck and you fiddle with his fingers resting near your stomach. His body tended to run warm and the room smelled so much like him that you wanted to lay in it for the rest of time. You flip to face him and aren’t surprised to see him still burrowing into the plush covers. For once, his eyes weren’t the most prominent feature of his face; now, your finger traces the sharp angles under his chin and he smirks, eyelids still shut. “Like what you see?”

“Mhmm, very pretty.” A single finger becomes the rest of your hand as you comb some loose strands from his face, only for them to fall right back onto his forehead. He hums when you continue to run your fingers over his scalp all the way down to the hair on the back of his neck. Fuck, he’s so beautiful.

“Not as pretty as you, though.” A bright blue eye finally winks open and you smile. “Good morning, gorgeous.”

“Good morning, menace,” you tease and his jaw drops in fake-offense. “Time to get dressed.” 

“But I like when you wear my stuff instead.” His gaze flicks down to your torso, covered by one of his older, softer shirts from a summer intensive camp. “Stay a little longer.  I like looking at you.”

“The last thing we need is for your parents to come looking for you and see us laying in bed together.” His eyes widen and he abruptly shoots out from under the comforter, leaving you laughing on his pillows as he searches around his closet for his formal clothes. “Would you mind getting my–”

“Already on it, sweetheart,” he calls from behind the bathroom door, slinging the garment bag over his shoulder. “You know, honestly, it’s starting to hurt a little bit when you think I can’t read your mind.” 

“Forgive me for not expecting you to be thinking of me all the time, then.” Your eyebrow arches challengingly and he hangs your dress on the top of the mirror before peeling off his shirt. To your horror, you have to stop yourself from drooling. 

“I accept your apology. And, for the record, you’re the only thing on my mind. All the time.” He shoots you your favorite lopsided grin of his and you stare at him like a love-sick idiot. Despite harboring feelings for him for the past three years and finally establishing a relationship, you still felt a level of embarrassment seeing his bare chest. It was different from when he was changing with the rest of the team; now, every inch of lean muscle honed over years and years of training was on display for you and only you. He catches you staring from your gaping silence. “You’re being a hypocrite, my love.” The patronizing note in his voice snaps you out of your adoration. 

“What do you mean?”

“You tell me to get up and then stay in bed to ogle me. It’s not fair, and a bit perverted.” He shrugs, tugging on a white button-up and black slacks. You scoff and throw a pillow at him, indignantly kicking off the blankets and making your way to unzip the garment bag. 

“Your dad is going to kill us both if we’re late and you take longer than I do to get ready. I’d say it’s fair I gave you a head start.” You blow him a kiss before slipping into the bathroom to change. 

As predicted, Satoru ended up taking longer than you did to get dressed. Though he was already in his proper attire while you were still in your lounge clothes, it took the entire time you were in the bathroom for him to decide on a tie. In the end, he forgoes the tie altogether and you self-servingly undo some of the buttons of his shirt while his eyes rake over you in your dress. It was a deep shade of purple with a generous amount of skin exposed, something he picked out with you when he first asked you to be his date. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, even though you left him speechless when you first walked out of the dressing room. He had to bend forward to rest his elbows on his knees just to keep his lungs functioning. 

“Like it? I fucking live for it,” you breathe, spinning around in front of the mirror again and again to watch the fabric billow beneath you. It was incredibly flattering on your figure as well as easy to maneuver in. You looked incredible in it, but your face falls as a realization dawns on you. “Is it too much, you know–” He doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Did I tell you that I beat my deadlift PR yesterday?” 

“Baby, what does that have to do with the dress?” His eyes flick to your shoulders and then back to your face, raising his eyebrows expectantly like a teacher waiting for an answer. “Oh.” The smile makes its way back onto your expression and you admire yourself once more, no longer worried about any snide remarks or lingering stares with the foreboding guard at your back. 

“This dress was definitely a good choice,” he whispers in your ear as his hand guides you through the crowded entryway. “But, if anyone starts to agree with me, I’m gonna send them to kingdom come.”

“You always had a flair for drama.”

“That's why you fell for me, isn’t it?” You shake your head in lighthearted exasperation. As more people continue to invade your space, Satoru is behind you like a shadow, mirroring your every movement and never straying too far. “Take a right. I don’t wanna deal with the brass.” You steer clear of the boisterously laughing group of men immediately in front of you, but it’s too late. They spotted Satoru first, making him grimace, and then they spotted you. Before they can surround you further, he’s stepped in front of you to effectively block you from the leering stares of the men twice your age. 

“If it isn’t the crown prince of Jujutsu Volleyball,” one of them, a square-faced man with nauseatingly intense eyes, remarks coldly. “Shall we expect your absence from Nationals for yet another year?” Your temper flares and you’re about ready to rip out the man’s throat, but Satoru continues to appear calm and indifferent to the insults. 

“Hmm, I wasn’t aware they were allowing retirees into the building, let alone those who’ve already picked out their tombstone. Should I have the maid mark the calendar for your Celebration of Life?” Unconsciously, your hand finds his shoulder as if to warn him against any more biting words. He was being particularly ruthless tonight and you couldn’t help but think it was because you were there, too. 

“Watch your tongue, boy. You forget I control your team.” 

“Oh, I didn’t forget.” His hand flexes, curling into a fist and then opening again. He definitely wasn’t kidding about beating his PR deadlift. “I just don’t care.” The men stiffen at the blatant dismissal. Unable to squeeze any shred of entertainment from Satoru, their attention turns to you. 

“And who’s this?”

“None of your business, that’s who,” your boyfriend states casually, but the underlying threat in his voice was evident. His fingers continue to curl and uncurl and you take hold of his wrist, rubbing your thumb into his palm. With your other hand, you snag a glass of punch from a nearby server’s tray. You knew it took everything in Satoru’s body to remain cordial, to not raise his lip in a snarl or slam the man’s head into the tile beneath your shoes. Of course, he had his own way of fighting without violence. His eyes narrow for a nanosecond before he puts on a nauseatingly fake grin of celebration. “Congratulations, by the way, on your new girlfriend.”

“What the hell do you think–”

“Maybe our respective partners can go on a daytrip sometime, seeing as they’re the same age,” he smiles maliciously and you just about choke on your drink. He’s turned to you with exaggerated concern in an instant, unable to keep the smirk from creeping onto his face as he rubs your back. The group of men are stunned and the square-faced one has turned a vibrant shade of red. Satoru, on the other hand, radiates triumphant self-satisfaction while he re-establishes his hand on your back. “Good to see you.” 

You aren’t bothered for the remainder of the evening, most likely from fear of the six-foot, lanky-legged bodyguard attached to your hip. Suguru arrives shortly after your confrontation with the higher-ups and your eyebrows hit the ceiling when you see the student council vice president on his arm. You unabashedly gawk when they enter and direct Satoru’s attention to his best friend. He looks at you in disbelief, back at Suguru, and then back at you. Several times, you accidentally step on his feet while you’re dancing in the middle of the floor. 

“Since when did Suguru have game?” You’re physically unable to wipe the expression of shock from your face. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Satoru whispers back over the sound of classical strings. You both crane your necks to follow the pair’s movement around the room like hawks. The vice-captain must feel your stares on the back of his head and he flips you both the bird when his date isn’t looking. Neither of you are deterred in the slightest. “At least he’s still Suguru.”

“That is not a pair that I saw coming.” 

“To be fair,” he shrugs, “neither are we.”

At 10:00, Satoru’s father announces himself at the top of the staircase in the foyer for several toasts and it takes all of your willpower not to roll your eyes. You cringe inwardly when he gestures to Satoru, whose nose scrunches in disgust at the shallow praise that was, really, all for show. There’s applause and flimsy well-wishes, but by 11:00, you’re confessing that you’re socially drained for the night and you’re back in his clothes half an hour later. 

“We’ve done a lot of stupid things, but I think that party was one of the stupidest,” he declares as he flops onto his bed next to you. You hum in tired agreement and snuggle further into his blankets.

“Stupider than putting a fake cockroach in the changing room and scaring the hell out of everyone?”

“It’s definitely up there. Kinji was truly out of his mind for that one.” You huff a quiet laugh against his chest, relishing in how easily his arms slip around you and pull you flush against his body. “You look hot as shit in that, by the way,” he murmurs into your ear. He nods to the alternate version of the team’s jersey covering your body, a muted shade of purple with black sleeves. It’s the same uniform he’d be wearing in a few days' time when you step into the bright lights of the city stadium, and the same one you hope to wear after he wins every team he plays against. 

“You’re gonna smell like my body wash during Nationals if you don’t wash this, Satoru.”

“That’s kind of the point, dear.” You snort and close your eyes while he presses kisses to your hairline.

“What, are you going to war or something? I’m gonna be right there with you the entire time.” Your mouth widens into a yawn and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 

“I hope you’re right there with me beyond that, too.” His voice is so low, it’s barely audible, but you hear it and make a promise in your heart to fulfill his wish. He was recently contacted for Olympic team tryouts, but the future after your last high school tournament was relatively a mystery. For now, you settle into his chest and inhale him again. 

“You can’t get rid of me now that you’ve got me, Satoru.”

“Promise?”

“On all the red asters I’m gonna grow in our garden.” It’s the last thing you remember saying before drifting back to sleep. 

Sure, he belonged to volleyball, but he belonged to you first.

aLSO CHECK OUT THIS GORGEOUS FUCKIGN ARTWORK FROM @mididoodles

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk volleyball au #jjk au

[bioticlaw]

Symbiosis

( yandere geto suguru x female reader )

It couldn’t be. He was a professional, someone like him wouldn’t make such an amateur mistake. He said it himself: he wanted to help you. Dr. Geto becomes your lifeline.

content: yandere Geto, drug misuse & non-consensual drugging, dependency, past familial trauma, mental health issues, introspection, mentioned past overdose, medical malpractice. contains sensitive content. not a love story. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT — 5.5k words

notes: please keep it mind that my intention is not to romanticise or glorify these experiences, it is a personal narrative, so it's based on my experiences and feelings at the time. otherwise, I hope you enjoy the story and please, be kind. <3

divider by cafekitsune | cross-posted on ao3

You coasted through your life.

You moved on autopilot, you never questioned or thought about anything, and you had a routine you followed without deviation. You’d been in a state like this for as long as you could remember. You used to wonder how it all began. You used to feel hurt as you were thrown into a deep spiral when you realised that the joyous child you were was now a puppet on its cruel maker’s strings.

You wished you could have saved her.

You knew it was illogical to think that way. You can’t change a story that has already been inked and carved into permanence. Still, it didn’t stop your mind from wandering. Sometimes you’d think of what would’ve been if you could go back in time and save her from her father. If you could have escaped from your captor who saw you as collateral and not his child. Your grandmother used to believe that men were meant to lead and protect their families, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Was it protecting you when he’d forbidden you from reaching out to the outside world?

Was it protecting you when he’d lock you in his room, away from anything you could use to call for help?

You liked to insist that you didn’t care anymore. Maybe you were a liar. You’d been dishonest far too often in your life, after all. Maybe, in a fucked up spin on the story of Narcissus and his reflection, you fell for your own tricks. You liked to believe you didn’t care, but sometimes, you’d find yourself feeling like that child again—alone and afraid as he gave more love to his stepchildren than you.

You might not have known anything at six years old. He was still your father. But as much as you loved him, you needed to break out of the chains he placed on your life. When he fell asleep from all the drinking he did, you took your chance. Called the number you weren’t allowed to call, decided on where to meet her the next day. Pretended like everything was normal when he woke up. Your mother took you back to your real home from school, and just like that, you were finally free. He cared too much about his public image to start a fight in public. It was the luckiest you had ever been.

You ended up forgetting about it all. You were happy. You were home. You might have spent more time with another relative because your mother was always busy, but you were loved. You felt loved. At least, that was how you remembered it. You weren’t quite sure if your memory was truly failing or if passivity had just been present for all your life. Your memories were in vignettes, burnt and broken, a film reel that was cut and couldn’t be put together. You’d given up on trying to remember. You were fine with leaving yourself in the dark and you were fine with being oblivious. You wouldn’t know if your memories were real, but it didn’t matter anymore.

High school was a blur. You fell asleep, skipped class, and still managed to stay one of your class’ best students despite it all. It was all you could do, anyway. It was just another obstacle you had to get over. As soon as you left the graduation ceremony, you left everyone behind with your memories. The teachers, the staff, your ‘friends.’ You didn’t know them that well. You hadn’t been all too honest with them, just like you weren’t honest with your doctor. The pills he gave you helped—you knew they did. For once, you felt like you were back on earth. You needed the feeling to stay with you. You needed to feel alive, to be alive again.

You liked the moment of bliss you’d get when you came to, so much so that you’d taken it all to die with a smile, but death never came.

Instead, the white light you saw was from the fluorescence of the ceiling, and the angelic choir you wanted to hear was instead the slow beeps of your heart rate on the monitor. What the doctors were talking about over your half-unconscious form didn’t feel like words but nonsense. You couldn’t remember what the nurse said to you, either. All you knew was that in your trance, the state where you teetered on the line between life and death, you saw shadows in that hospital. You saw the ghost of your grandmother in the corner, watching as charcoal flowed down your throat and into your stomach. You felt your father’s indifferent gaze, the same one he had when you drifted too far from shore at the beach.

You heard your mother crying, felt her guilt as she went through the whirlwind you had inadvertently put her in. It was perhaps your biggest regret of all; not the taking of your happy pills, but letting her shed tears over you. Your grandmother used to tell you this was the greatest sin you could ever commit. That scared you enough to force yourself to be better. To be as normal as you could be, as normal as your mother would want you to be. You didn’t want her to cry anymore.

But strength was never your best suit.

Your regret turned into something worse—anger that you let them take your salvation away from you. You weren’t always an angry person. It was hard to get on your nerves that much, you thought. You’d like to think you were carefree (or careless?) and resilient, but the craving in your system and the need to feel something again was all you could think of. You wanted your control back.

You had to get it back. Now that you were on your own, thousands of miles away from home, you had more autonomy to do as you liked. There were no vigilant eyes on you, no more obstacles to overcome, and no more people you had to lie to.

Tempted as you were to resort to such tactics again, you did initially come to the medical centre for a harmless reason. You were running low, and going through another withdrawal episode wasn’t something you were particularly thrilled about. You only wanted—needed—to keep yourself functioning; this was just part of the conditions that came with it. You hated dealing with these things for too long, so begrudgingly, you booked an appointment just to get it over with. Then you could go back to whatever your life was this time.

That feeling of emptiness would continue to persist, fading from one day to another, but you would live. It wasn’t anything worth celebrating. It was just a duty you gave yourself. Even if you didn’t want to, you had to.

Your leg bounced up and down as you sat in the waiting room, idly watching the second hand of the clock tick little by little. It was quiet and surprisingly not too crowded like you assumed when you looked at the appointment times. Other students you didn’t recognise scrolled through their phones, waiting for their names to be called just like you were. You sighed into your face mask. You were bored out of your mind and nothing on your phone could fix that. You’d still zone out anyway.

You glanced down at the paper in your hand. The letters seemed to burn themselves into your eyes the more you read them. You didn’t have to print the appointment details, but you valued your routine and habits no matter how mundane they were. You liked doing things in order. It kept you sane, you thought.

You didn’t quite recognise the name Dr. Suguru Geto. You were to meet them in—you took a glance back at the clock—2 minutes but you were dreading it more than anything. It would be your first time meeting them and if things went well, they’d be someone you see regularly. Apprehension and annoyance simmered at the pit of your stomach. Sudden changes were something you hated, even more so the fact that you had to tell a stranger your history all over again. Suffocated couldn’t possibly be the only word to describe how you felt about it. It was their job to know and help you, you knew that, but you still hated having to muster up the words to talk about how you were mentally and physically.

You didn’t like how vulnerable and paranoid you felt every time you sat in a doctor’s office. Anyone could use your weaknesses against you at any moment. Walking on eggshells around everyone had become second nature to you, irritatingly. It wasn’t as if you wanted to; it was more of a reflex, an instinct. You learnt to hide behind a character you built for yourself and grew used to it. To break that down and expose yourself again wasn’t the easiest thing to do.

Your name was called. “Dr. Geto is ready to see you now. Please follow me.”

The nurse’s heels clicked against the polished floors and the low buzz of the air conditioning was all that accompanied you as you followed her down the hall. Even the air was dreary, and the anxiousness you were feeling only seemed to grow as you got closer to the doctor’s office. It was colder at the end of the hallway where you stood. The nurse gently opened the sliding door, catching the doctor’s attention with a soft lilt of their name.

“Thank you,” you muttered and shuffled past her, tentatively making your way to the chair that was across Dr. Geto’s desk. As the door slid shut, the doctor greeted you, his voice far too jovial for a situation that could be the worst thing to deal with.

“Good morning,” he said. “How can I help you today?”

You shifted in your seat, feeling oddly more uncomfortable under his gaze. “I need a new written prescription. The one I brought from home doesn’t work here.”

“Ah, you’re a foreign student?” He scanned over the paper you handed him, a low hum vibrating in the back of his throat. His lips tugged into a frown. “I don’t think we have this variation in our pharmacy. I’d have to prescribe you a different one entirely.”

“W-What do you mean?” The words came out of you before you could think. “It’s pretty common, isn’t it? I could just buy it from pharmacies at home. What do you mean you don’t have that here?”

Geto raised his eyebrows. It was only then did it occur that you’d spoken too much and might’ve just attracted some suspicion as to why you were here. You pretended not to see how his expression changed, staring down at the floor instead.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine. I understand your worries,” he replied, eyes crinkling as he smiled once again. “How do you feel about starting a different one?”

“But…” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You didn’t like how it felt being watched by him. It was like you were getting reprimanded for something, even if there was nothing in his visage that implied that at all.

“It won’t be that different. I can prescribe you something with a similar composition,” Dr. Geto explained. The way he spoke was soft and calm. It didn’t take too long for that to affect you, making the tension in your shoulders lift away and your fists unclench. “I assume you know enough about drugs, don’t you?”

You weren’t here for that reason. You just really needed a refill, you weren’t falling back, you weren’t—

“Yeah. Just enough,” you replied hesitantly. “I’ve been seeing psychiatrists and doctors for years, so I just picked it up from them. And I read a lot, so…”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. The answer seemed to placate the doctor enough for him to lean back and scribble something down on a piece of paper. The sound of the pen scratching against the surface felt more grating than usual. You thought it was all done, that he’d give you that damn paper and you could leave. But then he crossed his arms over his chest and stared you down, and you realised that wasn’t the case at all. Why was he holding this back from you? Why wasn’t he helping you? All he had to do was click a few buttons, hit print and send you on your way. Why wasn’t he doing any of it?

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything.”

“I have been telling you everything,” you argued, exasperated and flustered. You didn’t understand why he was being so pointed at you. You didn’t remember exactly what you just said to him either. It had always been that way. “Doctor, I just don’t want to go through withdrawals again. That’s it.”

He didn’t seem convinced. What made him change his mind so quickly?

“I want to help you,” he said, your name rolling off his tongue smoothly. “I can’t do that if you don’t help me, too.”

You didn’t like the way he was speaking to you. It reminded you of being back at that wooden house, hiding behind the door as you anticipated when your father’s patience would burst. You shook your head, trying to clear the thought away.

“I… would like it if we could wrap this up soon. I have another appointment in half an hour,” you lied, hoping it would strike some urgency in him and that he would just hurry up. “I’m already running late. I need to be on my way.”

Dr. Geto raised an eyebrow. “You’re avoiding my request.”

“I-I’m not!” you stammered. “Please, doctor, I only have two days left on that bottle. I’ll take whatever it was called that you talked about. I’ve always responded well to medication, it won’t be a danger to me.”

He didn’t respond, only continued to watch you as he absentmindedly drummed his fingers on the desk. The sound was overloading your senses—you felt cornered, you could hear the blood rush in your ears, you could hear ringing, and the taps of his fingers were making it worse.

Hunching over, dejected, you relented. “I was never really told what was wrong with me. They just gave me antidepressants and I never saw the psychiatrist again.”

“You said you met several, no?”

Did you?

“I won’t make assumptions about you,” he said, “but I’m not sure I can trust you with a month’s worth of pills. I’ll only give you a week’s worth of them, then we’ll have a follow-up next Saturday to see how you feel. ”

“I don’t know… Changing medications is scary.”

You cringed at how the confession came out of you so easily. Sometimes it felt like your mind and your body weren’t in tune with each other. There was a gap between the two and you could never manage to get it to close.

Suddenly, the stern demeanour melted away and the friendly doctor was back. His brows were no longer furrowed. His face relaxed as he leaned back against the chair and smiled at you.

“It’s only a bit stronger than what you used to take. There shouldn’t be a drastic change.” The printer whirred to life as it ejected a small piece of paper with words you didn’t really recognise on it. Medical jargon was one of the things you could never memorise well. “Alright. Come, I’ll lead you to the pharmacy.”

You blinked. “You don’t have other appointments?”

“We’re understaffed. It’s only me and two other colleagues working here.”

It didn’t answer your question, but the hope blooming in your chest took your mind off of it. You could finally leave this creepy clinic—well, you were exaggerating, you thought. The clinic was actually well-maintained and populated, but there was just something that felt a little off about this place. You decided you’d blame it on your nerves.

“Please wait here.”

You watched him move between the shelves with an air of familiarity and grace as he murmured something you couldn’t hear. He came back with a small pouch that was labelled with your name and the general details (you knew the gist, you’d done this for years) and placed it on the counter between him and you.

“Like I said, this is a bit stronger than what you used to take, so I want you to start by taking half a pill every morning first.” The pills didn’t look anything out of the ordinary. It was a small, standard white tablet with a line etched in the middle for easier splitting. You gingerly tucked it into your bag, instead rummaging through the mess to look for your wallet. Before you could take out a bill or two, he stopped you. “The university has that covered, remember?”

You blinked. “Oh, right. Yes. Thank you.”

“Come see me if you have a bad reaction to it.” He gave you another friendly smile. It was starting to grow on you. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he would be. You had a knack for being a bit paranoid, after all. It was just one of those days. You felt a bit bad for judging him so harshly before you even properly spoke to him. “That’s all. I’ll see you next week, same time.”

There was a sense of discomfort nagging you in the back of your mind, but you shook it off. You were prone to overthinking things; this was just one of them. Relieved, you thanked him again and left the clinic. The weather was nice today and you didn’t have overdue assignments. You could recharge for as long as you wanted to.

While you knew not to underestimate these little things, you also weren’t sure how effective taking only half of the pill would be. It wasn’t the first time being on a dosage that would gradually increase, but you were still guilty of constantly worrying if something would work out. You didn’t think you had anything left to turn to if it didn’t.

You’d just have to take Dr. Geto’s word for it.

—

You were never one to pay much attention to how you were doing.

It wasn’t that you didn’t care. Something like that was simply not on the forefront of your mind. You were more than accustomed to being in a perpetual state of lethargy. You didn’t think you ever had a time in your life when you weren’t tired. Despite that, you felt the changes in your behaviour and demeanour. It was hard not to.

In the first half of the week, you felt sluggish and ill, as if your immune system decided to go haywire with the hormones in your brain, but you quickly recovered. It was nothing a little caffeine couldn’t fix (or worsen, but you didn’t want to think about it). He wasn’t lying when he said the medicine was stronger. The side effects weren’t as bad as you assumed they’d be, which you were glad about. Your appetite died down a little, but that was fine. You didn’t eat regularly anyway. As the days passed, you felt less anxious. It was somewhat easier to concentrate and follow along with your professors, even if you remained easily distracted.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

You were never one to pay much attention to how you were doing, but you weren’t one to shy away from your impulses, either. A thought popped into your mind. If you could take only half of the pill well, surely it would be fine to take another for a minor boost? You had a presentation later in the afternoon. Embarrassing yourself in front of the whole class was not an option. Your mother was working overtime to keep you in this position. You couldn’t fail her.

But as you picked up the blister pack, you found that it was empty.

“What?” you breathed. He prescribed you enough for seven days. Where was the last one? Had you accidentally double-dosed without knowing it? You wouldn’t put it past yourself to do something like that. The presentation slipped out of your mind entirely as you seemed to move purely on instinct, tugging the drawers open to also find nothing. When you crouched, you couldn’t find anything under the bed. There wasn’t anything in your luggage. Not even the closet where you’d habitually keep your pills hidden.

Your breathing was getting faster. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, overwhelming you in white noise as you paced back and forth, shaky sobs leaving your lips as you clutched your hair in a firm grip. Just where was it?

Did Dr. Geto forget to give you enough?

No. It couldn’t be. He was a professional, someone like him wouldn’t make such an amateur mistake. He said it himself: he wanted to help you. It made no sense why he would screw you over like this. This was on you, you thought. You were responsible for keeping them and taking them per instruction. A doctor wouldn’t make a mistake like this. Dr. Geto wouldn’t make a mistake like this.

Your nails dug into your palms as a broken wail escaped you. You needed it. You had an important class later, it was almost exam season—you needed to do well. Your eyes scanned the room once again. Your old ones had already run out; the new pills were your only option, but both of them were gone.

You cursed and harshly wiped away your tears with your sleeve. You were going to be late. You’d just have to run to the clinic as soon as your next class ended. That’s right, you echoed in your head, nodding frantically. That was all you had to do. You could do this, you could. This has happened before. You just needed to try to keep yourself together.

“I can do this,” you repeated to yourself. “I can. I can.”

Tugging your hood over your head, you grabbed your bag and hurried your way to class, trying to ignore the dull ache at your temples. You could take a painkiller later. For now, there was no time—you had to go.

Your breathing was going back to normal by the time you stepped inside the room with a couple of minutes left to spare. Though you weren’t the only one late, humiliation still washed over you. It felt like an omen. You somehow lost or accidentally double-dosed on your pills, you arrived past your self-designated time, and all eyes were on you. Things were all going downhill from here, you just knew it.

You meekly shuffled to the back of the class instead of taking a seat at your usual spot. Maybe the professor would be less likely to call on you that way. The student beside you smiled in greeting and moved his bag for you. You didn’t know his name, but he was nothing but friendly to you the whole semester. It was embarrassing, being in front of someone who recognised you while in such a pitiful state, but there was nothing you could do.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked. His brows furrowed, brown eyes looking at you in concern. “You wanna go to the infirmary? I mean, Fushiguro’s great at taking notes, we can just copy from him.”

You shook your head. “I’m fine. Just overslept.”

Thankfully, he seemed to buy it.

“Oh man, I totally get you. I actually ran here a bit before you did.” He patted your back, the action more awkward than it was comforting. Before he went back to chatting with his friends, he smiled at you. “Glad you’re okay.”

You returned the gesture. Though it didn’t quite reach your ears, he didn’t seem to notice or mind it that much. Luckily enough, the conversation ended there. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The last thing you needed was for anyone to see you in a state like this. It was better to stop it as soon as it happened.

“Today we’ll talk about transference…”

The voice of your professor eventually became muffled as the ringing in your ears grew louder. The headache was getting harder to ignore and you felt cold, your hands trembling under the desk as your mouth felt like it had just dried up. The world seemed like it was spinning and fading into a blur, and you swore you could hear the boy next to you call out in concern, but you felt heavy like you were falling—

You collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, raising gasps all around you as the boy next to you froze for a moment. You traversed between the light and the dark, barely registering the voices speaking over your weary body.

“—you’re the strongest out of all of us, Yuji, carry her!”

“Shit, yeah, okay—”

“—her friends? Take her to the doctor.”

Your bottom lip quivered, your hands loosely gripping the front of his shirt as he carried you in his arms, swiftly making his way across the campus. Tears sprung to your eyes as you blubbered, latching on to him to help keep you grounded. Nothing else was registering in your mind, only the cold and tremors that got worse the more you cried.

As your sniffles quietened down, you heard a familiar voice—the doctor—talking about something with someone while you felt yourself sink into a soft surface. Queasiness held you in its grasp, left your stomach churning. It dragged you deeper and deeper, distracting you from the sharp prick in the back of your hand before you fell into nothingness.

—

The fluorescent white light was unkind to your vision as you slowly blinked awake.

You felt… strange. Like you were floating. Like you weren’t in your own body. You felt weary, incredibly so, that just forcing yourself to sit up felt impossible. The world was coming back to clarity the longer you kept your eyes open. You were no longer in the lecture hall but in a doctor’s office. Your seatmate must have carried you here, you thought. You parted your lips to speak, tried to call out for anyone, but your voice wouldn’t come out.

You fell back against the pillow, your eyelids fluttering closed again. It wasn’t until the door slid open did you finally feel more alert, bottom lip quivering the moment Dr. Geto stepped in. How could he still smile at you after what you’d done? After you broke his trust?

He took a seat next to the bed you were on. You whimpered out his name, blindly reaching for him with what energy left you could muster. You wanted to apologise, to try to explain yourself, but instead—

“You didn’t give me enough,” you whispered, the rest of your words dissolving into soft and incoherent whines. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do or how you were supposed to feel. Anger? Regret? Ironically, emotions seemed like the least of your worries when he was right next to you. You stared at him, your eyes glazing over with tears. “‘m sorry.”

You barely felt a warm hand clasped on top of yours as he sighed deeply, taking a glance at the heart monitor by his side.

“It was my mistake,” he said. You shook your head weakly, a quiet no leaving your lips. “I’ve failed you as your doctor.”

“No,” you repeated in what you hoped was a more assertive tone. It felt useless to wish for something like that. Maybe you should just stop thinking overall and let whatever this was play out on its own. You were so tired, but slumber was falling out of your hands and replaced by a burden upon your shoulders, guilt. “No, doctor…”

You wanted to tell him it was your fault. That this was just another lapse of memory, just like the last time and the time before that. There was a sense of fear clouding your mind, a flash of a warning that disappeared as fast as it came. You felt like there was something you should tell him or even ask him, but you couldn’t think of what it was.

“You’ll be alright now,” Dr. Geto reassured you. “How are you feeling?”

You couldn’t answer.

Just why were you nervous? There was nothing wrong here. He took care of you while you were unconscious, made sure you’d survive. You mumbled something under your breath, tears building up at the corners of your eyes the more you tried to speak. Bringing your hands up to your face, you shake your head again, this time allowing yourself to cry freely.

He softly shushed you, gingerly urging you to look at him. You let out a choked sob as he pried your hands off your face, saying your name in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“You’re okay now,” he said, “Don’t cry.”

You weren’t sure how long he comforted you. All you could do was cry and cry until there was nothing left, until all your sobs became sniffles and exhaustion crawled into your bones, finding a home in your being. A rustle of fabric and you were being lifted in his arms, your head dropping as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

“I’m cold,” you exhaled shakily, nestling closer to him in an instinctive search for warmth and comfort. “I wanna go home.”

You couldn’t hear what he said as you succumbed to fatigue, further and further away until you came to again. You’re not in the clinic this time but in someone else’s room on a softer, warmer bed. The haze you’re trapped in overpowers the warning alarms in your head, replacing them with a sense of longing for the doctor who’s been taking care of you so well. Your wish is granted as the mattress dips with someone’s weight. Dr. Geto sits at the side, gently clasping his hand over your thigh as he says your name, soft as the wind.

“I don’t…” you trail off. What were you going to ask him? Were you just anxious that he was gone? “Something… Something’s wrong.”

“Are you still feeling sick?”

“I don’t know.”

You turn on your side, bringing your legs to your chest as you curl deeper into the blankets. You glance up at him. He’s not wearing his doctor’s coat anymore. Is he going somewhere?

He gently brushes stray hairs off your face before cupping the side of your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. When did you start crying? You don’t know why you still feel so tired, or why you keep forgetting things the moment you think of them. But maybe you don’t have to know. Maybe you just need to trust him and just fall.

There isn’t any strength left in your system. Briefly, you’re reminded of how this is just like when you were in the emergency room years ago, alone and confused and helpless. Still, you force yourself up and crawl to him before resting your head on his lap. Like he’s in tune with you, his fingers card through your hair, comforting and familiar. You don’t think you’ve felt that in years.

You’re in a daze and you’re starting to enjoy how it felt. You don’t have to think anymore. Don’t have to worry, don’t have to feel afraid. Still, you can’t help but call for him again, as if you were worried he’d disappear if you stopped looking at him.

“Doctor…”

“Suguru.”

“Suguru,” you echo. Something feels wrong. He’s your doctor. This isn’t the hospital or the clinic. You should get up and run, get away as far as you can, but it feels so good to be held by him. Your mother used to do the same thing until you fell asleep and got lost in a dream. Dr. Geto—no, Suguru—is warm. He loves you. He cares for you.

You don’t want it to end.

“I can’t do this without you.”

You stare into space, completely missing his smirk as he coos in reply, voice sweet like honey, “I know. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?”

He urges you to sit up properly before handing you two pills and a glass of water, comfortingly patting the top of your head when you take them from him. Your body moves on its own, far too used to this routine—take the pills, take a sip, swallow. Your limbs feel like jelly as you slump against him, resting your head on his chest. Strong arms wrap themselves around your frame and hold you close to a steady heartbeat.

Soft whines and whimpers leave your lips without you realising it. He’s so warm, a stark difference to how cold his office is, and the longer he holds you, the more you feel like you’re drifting away, sinking deeper, deeper…

“I do.”

And you let yourself fall into the ocean’s depths.

#trauma dumping but make it fashion #all #getou suguru x reader #suguru getou x reader #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #cw drugs #cw drugging #cw hospital #cw overdose #cw kidnapping #cw dark content #from kiri's keyboard

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Just wanted to put this in your head..

Imagine this video:

But instead of Xenophanes simping for Needlemouse he's simping for demon reader.  😏

Xenophanes simping over demon reader

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Thanks for feeding into my delusions lol. Really appreciate it. I already like Xeno enough and like to think he does this even though I know damn well he’ll probably do some stuff to me.

Also for now requests are closed. Mostly because it’s almost Christmas and I want to spend the time between now and then with my family. Anyways all aside hope you enjoy it reading this. ~J/Blaze

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️ Obsessive/Possessive behaviour + Murder⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Xenophanes + Mentions of the EXE’s (Mostly Lord X and Fleetway)

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by komiplier on Twitter + Banner by 5macc13 on Pinterest

———————————

- Let me tell you when this man simps for you, he simps for you hard. Although he doesn’t admit it, he really likes you. He likes having your company, he likes it when you join him in whatever he is doing it gives him more joy than doing the thing by himself. He’s kind of gotten attached to you. Both emotionally and quite literally. He’s always seen around you, kind of like a bodyguard constantly keeping you to himself. Not letting anyone near you and if someone needs to speak to you he’ll be there standing right next to you.

- He definitely gets made fun of due to how much he likes you, mostly Lord x and Fleetway though. Lord X is a smug little shit once he finds out about Xeno’s little obsession over you he’s teasing the hell out of him. Making slight passive aggressive comments about his love for you at him and when he calls him out on it Lord X acts like he didn’t say anything wrong. Fleetway on the other hand oh he’s not even trying to hide that he’s teasing Xeno. In fact he indulges in the reactions that Xeno gives off, seeing him act like a child denying their crush makes him laugh. Fleetway may have hinted that Xeno simps for you directly but quickly gets shut down.

- He can get a little possessive around you. Well a little is an understatement for someone like him but regardless possessive. He has to be around you regardless of the situation. Yes he’s fully aware that you are a demon yourself and that you can and have dealt with some disturbing shit as well as causing some disturbing shit but is that going to stop him from acting like this? Nope it won’t. I’d suggest getting comfortable with his possessiveness because it really is something.

- With him being possessive he’s also very obsessed over you and sometimes fawns over you. Not in public though he’s not getting more embarrassed by the others than he already does. Don’t get me wrong he does show his appreciation in his own way just don’t expect to see like an exaggerated reaction. In private though, he’s completely different. If you so much as give him a compliment as soon as he’s alone and he knows that he is alone he could feel himself becoming slightly giddy. It’s like a fan who got recognised by their favourite artist. He does tell himself to not get too into his emotions but at the same time he can’t help but feel this way you do or say anything positive towards him. A simple praise like ‘good job’ is enough to make him feel like this.

- That’s just the tame stuff he does, don’t even get me started on what else he might do. Considering what and who he is I doubt that he won’t murder someone who gets close to you. If someone even dares to look at you or show interest in you he’ll make sure that they learn something and leave you alone. If he’s feeling nice enough he might let them live, not fully intact but being able to recover but most of the time he isn’t. It’s even worse if the person talks shit about you. He’ll make it worse for them.

- You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, congrats. You can basically make him do anything you want. No matter how extreme it might seem or see if you tell him to do it he will. Everyone definitely notices this because he doesn’t do the same to them. If they need something from him or need him to do something they immediately go to you and ask him to do it. Some of them only do this when they have to because they understand that it can be annoying when you're constantly being told to do something for them but for some of the others they tell you to ask him to do some embarrassing stuff and he’ll do it no doubt.

- Overall, for some reason you don’t question his behaviour. You know that sometimes Xeno can have some moments and despite things listed above he can be fun to hang around so you don’t really pay much attention to what he does.

———————————

#sonic.exe #sonic.exe x reader #xenophanes #xenophanes x reader #xenophane #xenophane x reader #lord x #fleetway #fleetway sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic series #sonic series x reader #sonic #sonic x reader #x reader #request

[delcakoo]

Getting giggly thinking about Prince Yeonjun meeting his princess for the first time? Also why were up at 1 am 🤨🤨🤨

PRINCE YEONJUN I LITERALLY YELPED RAVEN ILY FOR THIS. oh. and uh… i was uh.. doing important things!! 😇 anywaYs enjoy jshsjs

9:02AM — “yeonjun, tuck your shirt in for the last time,” a strict, female voice barks in the distance.

you awkwardly balance your weight from one heel to another as your soon-to-be husband paces over to you, rolling his foxy eyes whilst his mother sends him strict side glares.

the prince looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world; gloved hands digging into his pockets unceremoniously and plush lips formed in a subtle frown.

nonetheless, your own mother’s face brightens with each and every step they take. “smile, honey,” she reminds passive aggressively.

“why, you both look simply ethereal!” yeonjun’s mother compliments once they come to a stop, bowing with gracefulness that her son begrudgingly copies.

while the queen’s blabber on and feed each other sweet talk, yeonjun finally returns your gaze. he scans you up and down, seemingly unimpressed by his default expression. your brows furrow, feeling offended by the male’s lack of respect and decency.

was this rude, stuck up jerk really the man you’d be married off to?

“well, how about we let them introduce themselves on their own while i fetch you a cup of tea?” your mother offers, extending a gloved hand out to miss choi.

“that sounds delightful.” with one last squeeze to her son’s shoulder, the queen leans in, whispering something unreadable against his ear before prancing off elegantly.

now, only you and yeonjun remain outside the palace. he makes no move to do anything, so you reluctantly take charge despite only wanting to scold him for his awful, un-princely attitude. “i’ll show you around.” you don’t give him time to refuse, making your way inside with confident steps.

luckily, the prince doesn’t put up much of a fight; black dress shoes clicking and alerting you of his looming presence close behind.

you pause in the first hallway with a nervous gulp. “so.. this is where we—“

“what do you want?” the black haired boy rudely interrupts.

you frown, “pardon?”

he rolls his eyes yet again, and you resist the urge to comment on how it’ll get stuck there if he didn’t stop. “fortune? pleasure? fame?” he lists off as if he’d said it a billion times before, eyes drifting off to a nearby painting hanging delicately. “which one?”

squinting, you try to study his features and read his emotions, but as usual they offer you nothing. “uh, none?” you reply honestly, and at last, yeonjun turns to face you in peaked curiosity. “i just want to make my parents happy.”

yeonjun hates the fact that he falls for your confident tone and body language. “well, me too,” he mumbles so softly that you nearly miss it.

“then.. why is it that you’ve broken up with all.. what even is it now— ten of your past wives?” you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting it out, even if it was definitely a question for another day.

however, the choi family’s son seems to care even less. “they were all just using me for different reasons,” he replies instantly. “not a single one actually gave a shit about me as a person, so why should i allow them to sleep next to me in my bed?”

you blink at his honesty, nodding in understanding, “that makes sense.”

yeonjun snaps his head over to you, face still blank, but eyed widened a fraction. “it- it does?”

“uh.. yeah?”

he gulps, unsure of what to say. “sorry, it’s just.. i’m usually told that i’m wrong and i should just learn to accept it.”

feeling proud that he’s opening up to you, you quickly reply with something a princess should definitely not say. “well they’re all dickheads, aren’t they?” yeonjun nearly chokes, coughing in surprise before a laugh tumbles out of his lips. his brown, fox eyes crinkle softly, and you can’t help but think he looks shockingly cute like this. “what?” you ask through your own giggles.

“i’ve never heard a princess say such a word,” he cackles.

“well, i suppose you’ll have to give me a chance if you’d like to hear more.” you wiggle your brows playfully, a mischievous smirk still on your lips.

then, the prince does something he’s never done to a girl before (at least, out of his own free will). with a few steps towards you, yeonjun wraps his arm around your waist, leading you off to where your mother’s wait in the dining hall. maybe he’s gullible, maybe this was all a set up and you were simply a wonderful actor.

but at least for now, yeonjun felt genuine hope. “i think i will, princess.”

this was prob not what u expected sorry for the slight angst 🫶 also ten wives was supposed to be an exaggeration if u couldn’t tell 😭😭

#delcakoo #delcakoo requests #I LOVE PRINCE JUN #txt drabbles #choi yeonjun #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun fic #yeonjun #txt #tomorrow x together #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x you #txt x reader #txt x you #txt fic #txt fluff #txt angst #txt requests #choi yeonjun fluff #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun scenarios #txt imagines #txt fics #txt reactions #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun fics #txt scenarios #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts

[phoxey]

Talent vs Hard Work

This is part 2, for Part 1 click here

Bebe!Bada x WolfLo!reader

CW: reconciliation first fluffy then smutty... (yall wanted it that way.... tho me too tbh) MDNI

AN: Thank you for your support for this random two-shot, it really means a lot to me! So enjoy this!

“Don’t forget that I loved dancing first, Bada Lee! All of what you are now is because of me! You may have talent, but you would never have found it, if it wasn’t for me! I built both of our careers. But honestly? I wish I would have never taken you dancing. We both would have regular lives; all of this shit would have never happened. Maybe you would have actually proposed today…”

“I guess we will never know.”, Bada said quietly.

You sighed. “I love dancing. I really do. But before I loved dancing, I loved you.”, you whispered then.

Bada looked at you then, pain in her eyes. “Then why did you always hold me back? Why did you never share my ambitions? You always talked me out of taking advanced classes… I thought we wanted to become a famous duo together?”

You looked away ashamed. She was right. “Because I never wanted to be famous. I just wanted to dance with you. And when you became so good that you could take the advanced classes, I knew I couldn’t, because I don’t have your talent. You would find new friends; we would have grown apart. I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep you to myself. I was selfish like that.”, you admitted.

“So, you wanted to me be unhappy?”

“No! I want you to be happy. But I thought I could be the sole reason for your happiness…”

“But you always were! I wanted nothing more than being successful with you, dancing with you. You are the reason I fell in love with dancing. If I had started dancing alone, I don’t think I would have fallen in love with it. But when you changed… when you began being passive aggressive about my dancing, I felt like you began to hate me. It broke my heart.”, Bada said and sat down on one of the sofas. Reluctantly you sat down next to her on the couch. “I thought if I get you to stop dancing, I get both, a career I love and my best friend who I loved.”

“That’s why you said all those things?”, you asked.

Bada nodded. “Stupid, if I think about it. Why would you stay my friend if I bullied you out of dancing?”

“We both were stupid. Why would you stay my friend if I caged you and limited you?”

Bada then grinned a little, it was a tired and sad smile. She looked at you and shoved you a little with her shoulder.

“What was that for?”, you pouted.

“Wanna know a secret?”, Bada asked.

You nodded.

“I never liked the word ‘friend’ when it came to us.”, Bada whispered.

“Yeah me neither…”, you blushed. “Bada?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we can start over?”

“Do you really want to? I don’t want to start over…”, Bada said.

“Oh… ok…”, you whispered and looked down.

Bada took your hand then. “I don’t want to start over, I don’t want ignore what we had. Because what we had was great. And the last ten years… maybe we needed that to grow as people independently. But now we found eachother again. I believe if we accept what happened and work through it, we can be stronger… together.”

You laced your fingers with hers and looked at her with tears in your eyes. “Please don’t leave me again. I can’t do this shit again.”

Bada cupped your chin and kissed your tears away, before putting her forehead to yours. “I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”, she whispered and kissed your lips, almost desperately.

You leaned into it. You both kissed to convey the words neither of you could say. But Bada suddenly broke off the kiss. You wanted to protest until she showed you your hand, that she still held with hers. Around your wrist was a blue and purple bracelet. You noticed the same on hers.

“You still had them?”, you gasped.

“Yeah. I couldn’t bring it over myself to throw them away.”, Bada whispered and kissed your wrist. “I’m glad I didn’t. That way I can keep my promise from ten years ago.”

“Your promise?”

“I said I would propose in ten years.”

Your eyes got big. “Bada!”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”, she asked softly and before she had even finished her sentence, you were eagerly nodding.

“Yes, Bada, I would.”

She kissed you again, deeper this time. She let go of your hand in favor of letting her hands roam over your sides, while your arms wrapped around her neck. You both chuckled briefly, as you clumsily moved to sit in her lap. As soon as you had straddled her, Bada’s hands moved to cup your ass and pull you as close as possible against her. You grinned and paid her back by sucking on her tongue. A low moan escaped Bada’s throat. But before the tall woman could react, you had already found your next target: Bada’s neck; and you were rewarded immediately by Bada moaning your name.

Her head fell back to give you full access to her neck. “You don’t know how often I thought about doing this…”

After a moment of just enjoying your affections, she decided it was her turn now. One hand in your hair, she pulled your head to the side, so that she could return the favor and hungrily attacked your throat with lips, teeth, and tongue. Your moans were music in Bada’s ears, so her hand danced deliberately up to cup your breast. Soon you were a panting and moaning mess because of her efforts, your hips were bucking restlessly in desperate search for something, anything.

“Bada… please…”, you breathed out, not quite sure what exactly you were asking for, you just wanted more. More of everything. More of her.

Bada seemed to understand though, she could always read your mind. Both of her hands moved down and expertly opened your pants just enough so that her hand could slip in. Bada’s fingers were immediately met with your wetness.

“Shit, baby… you need me that much?”, she whispered then, against your lips.

You nodded shyly when you saw her smirk. Bada’s fingers left your pants again, but before you could protest you saw her putting her finger into her mouth. “I needed a taste. Since we don’t have time for the whole thing now.”, she whispered.

Then her hand slipped into your pants again. You held your breath when she ran her finger along your heat, always stopping just before touching your clit. She definitely enjoyed teasing you. But Bada wasn’t the most patient person and soon she gave in to her desires and slipped her finger into you. It was hard for her to control herself, but she wanted to give you at least a moment to adjust. But she found, you didn’t even need that. Because as soon as she was inside of you, you started rolling your hip, chasing that sparkly feeling inside of your stomach. Bada decided a second finger couldn’t hurt, and she was right. Soft moans fell from your lips, that she drunk in with her own.

Meanwhile she started to thrust a little rougher, losing herself in the feeling of you clenching around her fingers. Her palm was rubbing against your clit, only adding to your pleasure.

Damn you, Bada. Why was she so talented at this too?

Your kisses were all teeth and tongue by now. She was helping you ride her fingers, by grasping and guiding your hip. Bada could feel you clenching harder and harder, indicating that you were close.

“Cum for me, baby. Please.”, she muttered into your ear.

Almost on command you came, with a soft scream that Bada quickly silenced with a kiss. A few erratic jerks with your hips later, you sank against her exhausted. Gently Bada pulled her fingers out and tenderly rubbed your back.

“You did so well.”, she whispered as you hid your face in the crook of her neck, panting harshly.

“We should get back…”, you mumbled after you had caught your breath and pulled away, even though you wanted nothing more than staying like this forever.

You gasped when you saw a giant purple spot on Bada’s neck. “Oh shit! I think I got carried away.”

Bada’s thumb ran over your throat as well. “Me too.”

You wrapped Bada’s Bebe scarf around her neck to hide the hickey and Bada did the same for you with your WolfLo scarf.

Both of you got up, you were noticeably wobbly on your legs, so Bada grabbed your hand, that you wouldn’t fall.

“Tonight, you will get all of this and more back.”, you hissed, noticing your soreness between your legs.

“I’m looking forward to it.”, she whispered into your ear.

Hand in hand you walked downstairs to the fight zone again. All of the dancers looked at you two, as they all have been waiting. Bada squeezed your hand one last time, before you had to let go to walk over to your own crew.

Arriving there Haechi grinned smugly. “You really took reconciling to a whole other level.”

You laughed. “Shut up and let me be happy. I have a girlfriend now, what do you have?”

You looked over to Bebe and Bada was already gazing at you, smiling fondly. You smiled back.

In the end, in every fight, love will always win.

#swf #swf2 #bada lee #bada lee swf #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #swf2 smut #swf2 x reader #team bebe #bada lee smut

[phantomspiderr]

Not A Bad Morning

Pairing: Steven Grant x gn!reader (ft. Marc Spector too)

Word Count: 2.5k+

Summary: Steven was just trying to have a stress free morning before his job interview but it just seems like everything’s against him

Warnings/Tags: not a lot of warnings really, it’s fluff. Steven has a little self doubt, reader has a dog, just a little meet cute in the park, Marc being soft and helping Steven

a/n: ohhhh Steven my beloved. Yes it's another Steven fic, sorrrrrrryyy. I promise I am working on other things, specifically a tlou fic if anyone is interested👀 also this is probably terrible but I hope you enjoy anyway

*(I orginally posted this last night but something kept happening to the end of the fic where it just kept deleting the last two paragraphs so we've had to make a new post and hope that works)

**any lines all in italics are Marc talking with Steven in case that isn’t clear

･☆: *.☽ .* :☆

The morning had not been kind to Steven.

It had started with him somehow snoozing his alarm without even waking up and the water in his shower had run ice cold. Then all his clothes seemed to be in the laundry pile and he had to borrow a pair of Jake’s trousers that he felt were a little too tight for his liking.

It felt like some sick joke when he’d opened the fridge and it was empty; bar some dodgy-looking carrots, out-of-date oat milk, and a single egg—why is there just one egg?? Is it really that difficult to do a food shop??— so he had no breakfast and very little time. He makes a mental note to berate Marc or Jake the next time they show up on body sharing etiquette and making sure there’s bloody food in the fridge.

Steven was slowly losing hope for the day and it wasn't even 10am. He'd tried his hardest to plan the day to the tee. It’s been all he’s been able to think about since he saw the ad for his dream job and had been lucky enough to get an interview for it. He had wanted to make sure it was the least stressful it could've been but it was as if the universe wasn't on his side today.

Now he’s impatiently waiting in line at a local coffee shop, his foot incessantly taps against the floor as he anxiously checks his watch every few seconds.

You have plenty of time.

“Shut up,” Steven mutters quietly, looking off to the side into a mirror where he can see his own—slightly disheveled—reflection. A stranger gives him an offended look as they walk past, “not you-I-sorry!” He turns around to stare at the back of the person in fronts head and tries to act somewhat normal, giving Marc a cold shoulder in the process.

Stop stressing out.

Steven rubs at his temple while willing the queue to move even a fraction of a second quicker.

You’re going to get the job.

This time Steven sighs, this is one of those times he wishes he could just stick his fingers in his ears and hum a tune to drown out Marc’s voice.

Even if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world. We can go somewhere else. It’d be their loss.

There are just two more people in front, he can ignore him just a little longer.

You can’t ignore me forever.

A little more passive-aggressively than he’d normally be, Steven, rummages in his bag for his phone. Then he theatrically pretends to make a phone call.

“Hiya just wanted to let you know I’m fine.” He glances back to the mirror to see Marc with an unamused look and his arms crossed over his chest.

Sure you are.

“No, I’m not stressed.”

Clearly.

“I wish you’d stop saying I was because if anything that stresses me out more yeah?”

The tone in Steven’s voice is one that says he’s on the end of his tether and this time Marc just holds his hands up, not saying a word. Steven softens a little when after a beat Marc just gives him a look that says, ‘you are stressed out and I just want to help.’

“I appreciate you trying to help. I’ll talk to you later.” He pulls the phone away from his ear and gives his alter a final look in the mirror before turning back to see there’s no one in front of him now and the barista is waving their hand at him.

Now, with a fresh cup of tea and a surprisingly good looking vegan blueberry muffin secured, he takes the shortcut through the park to get to the museum on the other side. He went to check his watch, somehow forgetting the cup of hot tea in his hand and almost spilling it on himself. There was plenty of time for him to sit on that bench at the other end of the park, near the lake, where he could calmly enjoy his breakfast before his interview.

The park seems quiet enough that Steven feels comfortable talking with Marc now without worrying about people around hearing him. “You still there?” He asks the question while simultaneously knowing the answer.

Mhmm.

“Do you really think I’ll get the job?” Steven’s anxiety and self-doubt creep out with every word.

I already told you, if you don’t it’s their loss. Marc’s softens after a rather sad-looking Steven catches a glimpse of him in a passing puddle. You’re more knowledgeable on all that stuff than anyone else and you can do that job better than anyone.

“But what if…what if they just don’t like me, like how Donna didn’t?” Steven won’t even look at Marc as he passes another puddle, more interested in the plain-looking pathway below his feet.

Fuck Donna. And fuck them if they don’t like you.

Marc’s voice has an edge to it then before he relaxes again, remembering his goal is to soothe Steven’s anxiety, not make it worse.

Which they will…

…like you I mean!

People find your clumsy nature endearing.

Fuck, I’m not great at this.

The last sentence makes Steven chuckle just a little because Marc may not be the best with words but at least he tries.

As Steven goes to reply his thoughts are interrupted by shouting, for a second he’s so in his head he thinks it’s Marc but it sounds too far away and he looks up just in time to see a big dog bounding towards him. He doesn’t even have a second to react before the dog jumps onto him, knocking his tea completely out of his hand as he falls backward and lands on his ass with a thud. The dog continues to excitedly jump at him and tries to lick at his face despite him squirming as it does so.

“Val!” The shouting continues, this time much closer and it sounds like someone is running, “I’m so sorry! Val get off!” Suddenly the dog is pulled off of him and Steven’s a little dazed by what just happened. He blinks up at you, his eyes squinting because of the sun's brightness. Maybe that’s why he thinks you look like a literal angel standing above him. The sunlight behind you causes your silhouette to be surrounded by a ring of bright yellow light. “I am so so sorry! She’s a friend's dog and she’s just a pup. I’m just walking her while my friend’s away. I’m so sorry the lead slipped out of my hand and she just bolted.”

Either get up or talk please, this is painful to watch.

“Oh.” Steven’s head kicks into gear again and he awkwardly gets back up onto his feet, wincing slightly when he rubs a hand over his now sore lower back. “It’s okay, accidents happen.”

“I’m so sorry, I hope she didn’t hurt you. Shit, you’ve dropped your drink. Here-“ you start rummaging around in your pocket.

“Oh no, it’s okay! Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t a great cup of tea anyway.” That was a lie. It cost about £6 and was actually a pretty good tea that he only got on special occasions, like today when the world seems against him.

“I’m so sorry,” your eyes look so apologetic and Steven still feels a little dazed while looking at you. He thinks you look like you belong in a museum, amongst the marble statues and fancy oil paintings. You’re something that should be admired by everyone.

Steven, the attractive person is talking to you and you need to talk back, like now.

Steven barely has a second to form any thoughts before Marc speaks again.

Let me front.

“No!” It comes out before he even properly thinks about it and he tries his best to play it off, “no don’t be sorry. What kind of dog is it?” He tries to shift the conversation so you hopefully don’t think too much about how weird he is acting.

“Oh… she’s a rescue so they think lurcher but my friend swears she’s part collie too!” You’re fondly looking at the dog while Steven observes you for just a second more, “she usually listens really well but apparently, we need to work on not running off and jumping strangers. Huh, Valkyrie?” Both the dog and you look at each other affectionately as you scratch behind her ear.

“That’s a really nice name, it’s from Norse mythology right?” Steven likes it when you smile right at him, a quiet giggle slipping out.

“Uh, yeah. That and I think my friend is in love with the king of New Asgard.” You both laugh this time and Steven thinks it’s the nicest sound he’s heard in a long time.

Then there’s an awkward moment of silence and Steven just doesn’t know how to keep the conversation going or if you even want to keep the conversation going and now he slightly wishes he’d let Marc front. Marc’s always better at flirting with people in regular conversation, he can pick up on certain social cues Steven is blind to. Steven wants to flirt with you, he was just immediately drawn to you and he wants to get to know you so badly, he just doesn’t know how.

Ask for their name or introduce yourself.

Marc’s voice filters through Steven’s self doubting thoughts.

“I’m Steven,” it comes out quickly and forcefully before he can overthink it and his hand flies out in your direction. He can barely look at you his eyes flickering anywhere but at you. That is until your hand slips into his, your hand’s a little cold but it feels nice in his slightly clammy one and he watches your smile grow after you say your name. Quietly he repeats it to himself as a way for his brain to better remember it and he really just likes the way it sounds.

“I’m really sorry again, can I buy you another cup of tea? There’s a cart just down this path that sells hot drinks.” He thinks he’s maybe getting ahead of himself or looking too closely into it but he really likes the idea of spending more time with you. Marc catches him just before he ultimately agrees immediately without another thought.

Steven, your interview.

“Oh sh-!” He reluctantly pulls his hand from yours to check his watch only to see time has somehow run away from him. Now he suddenly has very little time to get to the museum. “I’m sorry I have an interview for this dream job of mine in like ten minutes and it’s probably going to take me that long to run there!”

“Oh.” Is that disappointment seeping into your features? “That’s okay,” just like that it’s gone and you’re smiling at him again, “I owe you a cup of tea then Steven.”

“After?” It comes out a little more like a forceful statement rather than a polite question. He just had to say it before his brain chickened out. Now you’re looking at him confused, quietly repeating the word he just uttered.

Steven, buddy, you gotta say a little more.

“I’m trying,” he quickly mumbles to the side before turning back to you and more cautiously speaking this time, “maybe we could- if you want to-maybe you’d want to-"

Steven, calm, breathe.

He pauses and takes a deep breath, his eyes falling closed for just a second. When they open you’re still there. You’re real and you’re still standing in front of him, curiously waiting on him to speak again. That beautiful smile still gracing your face and he’s lost again, lost in the calm of your eyes on him.

Steven.

“Do you want to meet after?” Marc’s voice reminds him of what he was trying to say and it comes out more smoothly than he expected. Maybe that’s down to Marc being even closer to the front, almost slipping into control of the body for just a moment.

“Oh.” Steven thinks he’s misread the situation—it wouldn’t be the first time—because you look surprised. Just as he opens his mouth to rescind the offer and apologise profusely you speak again. “I-I’d love that,” Steven watches as a grin spreads across your face and he mirrors your expression.

As much as I want to see how this pans out, we’re late.

“Shi-!” Steven checks his watch just to confirm even though he already knows he’s more than late at this point, “I have to go!”

The last thing he wants to do is leave and he awkwardly moves to do so before something else inside him fights it. If this wasn’t his dream job he’d forget all about the interview and just stay here in the park with you. Maybe you could walk around the water and sit with a cup of tea on a bench, and get to know each other better.

“Go! Go!” You’re gently shooing him off so he listens, and forces his feet to move but he keeps looking back at you as he takes the first few steps. Val tugs on the end of her lead, a little cry escaping as she looks at Steven and then back to you.

Wait!

Steven halts abruptly almost falling over his own feet.

Give them your number!

Frantically Steven rushes back over to you, Val now pulling you almost off your feet as she excitedly taps her paws on the ground. How did he somehow forget a crucial part?! He quickly rummages in his bag and pulls out the receipt from the coffee shop, a loose pen, and some crumbs from his forgotten, now squished muffin.

“Here,” he messily scribbles down something that resembles his phone number and quickly decides to add a little note on the end. You delicately take the note when he offers it, smiling as you glance over it before looking at Steven again. His face hurts from how much he’s smiling, “see you later then?” When you excitedly nod he adorably waves as he starts to back away again. Steven walks backward for a second longer than he probably should just so he can admire the way you’re still standing smiling at him too. Reluctantly he pulls his eyes away from you and turns, breaking into a light jog as Marc reminds him they're late once again. Steven takes one last look at you, he’s surprised you’re still standing there reading over his little note with a large smile still plastered to your face.

You did a good job back there.

The small compliment makes Steven feel good. He'd been working hard with Marc on communication. Learning to breathe and formulate his words better in conversation and it seems the hard work is paying off.

Steven takes one final look at you before he speeds into more of a run, his heart now racing for another reason. Even now when he nervously answers the interviewer's question his mind stays stuck on you. He can't stop thinking about how nice you looked or the way you smiled so brightly-

Steven, focus!

#moon knight x reader #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x reader #steven grant #steven grant x gender neutral reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fluff #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #steven grant x gn!reader #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x y/n

[deluwoo]

Part 1 of ???: You, a kitten, and a boy

pairing ▸ joshua x gn!reader genre ▸ fluff, slow-burn, mutual pining warnings ▸ school, malnourished animal (kitten) wc ▸ 674

kyrin's notes ▸ I'm planning to make this a multiple part series, but i'm not too sure how many parts i should write. Let's just see where you and Josh's story goes! pls enjoy :>

It was an overcast day. The sky was gray and the air was cool and heavy. You were walking home from school when you saw a kitten, lying down on the bench at the bus-stop. You could see its ribs, its stomach bloated with worms and fleas all over its fur. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. Before continuing on your way, you gave it a bit of the luncheon meat you weren’t able to eat and some water.

The next day, on your way home, you noticed that the kitten was still there. Luckily, you had some food to give it, so you gave it your leftovers and some milk. Day by day, that became your routine. On your way home, you would leave some food and water for the little kitten. Until that day. Waking up late, you forgot to pack lunch, so you just ate the food from the school canteen. Of course, the servings weren’t very big; that’s why you had to pack your own lunch everyday. While walking home, you were feeling bad for not being able to give anything to the kitten, until you saw him.

He was feeding the kitten. You had seen him at school before, you were even in the same batch. Racking your brains, you tried to remember his name. Joshua. That’s it. The shy boy who sat a row in front of you, to the right. Come to think of it, you’d never really heard him talk, and here he was, petting and feeding the kitten you’d come to consider your own.

Joshua didn’t even seem to notice you, engrossed as he was with making sure the kitten ate. That is, until you accidentally stepped on a twig, catching his attention. He suddenly looked up at you. In that moment, you couldn’t help but think of how much like a deer trapped in headlights he looked. Fortunately, his bus arrived and he hurriedly climbed onto it. The very next day, you saw him at school. Of course, like always, you ignored each other. Although, today felt slightly different. Before, when you ignored each other, it was always because both of you were busy with your respective friend groups, or schoolwork, or other things. Today, however, you found it surprisingly difficult to ignore him. You really wanted to talk to him for some reason. What would you guys even talk about? You don’t know his interests, and he doesn’t know yours. So, you went on with your day. Good thing you remembered to pack your own lunch today, so you can feed the not-so-skinny-anymore kitten. 

As you were changing your shoes, you felt your friend tap your shoulder. “What?” You asked.

“Why’s Joshua coming here? We don’t even talk to him.”

You looked up, and there he was, awkwardly making his way to you. You stood up fully and lifted your eyebrow. When Josh stopped in front of you, neither of you could keep eye contact. Then you heard his quiet, kind sounding voice. “Good thing you remembered to bring extra food today. I noticed you forgot yesterday, so I fed the kitten for you.” What? “Oh. Um, yeah. Thanks for yesterday, I guess.” You reply, slightly confused.

You notice his ears reddening and he quickly goes back to his friend group. “What was that??” Your friend asks. 

“I don’t know either, to be honest.” You reply.

That awkward (and admittedly adorable) interaction told you a lot. He knows you feed the kitten everyday, he knew you forgot your lunch yesterday, and he knows you made sure to pack lunch today. 

You shake your head and get on with your day. When you get to the bus-stop, you feed the kitten, like always. You can’t help but think of Joshua. How did he know that you feed the kitten everyday? He noticed that… he noticed. Before now, you were always a passive presence in each other's lives. But now, you're finding it a bit hard to keep him out of your head.

please reblog, laloves ©kyrin © DELUWOO – 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.

#from: kyrin 🏹 #fluff #kitten #joshua #seventeen #joshua seventeen #joshua fanfic #joshua seventeen fanfic #joshua hong #jisoo hong #hong jisoo #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt joshua #seventeen joshua #joshua x reader #joshua x you #joshua x y/n #highschool au #bus stop romance #kpop fanfic #seventeen fanfics #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen series

[historicallysam]

THE ARTFUL DODGER

(title under construction)

Just a little something that popped into my head. It's another baseball story, because apparently I can only write those and historical fiction. Enjoy this little snippet :)

---

Alex doesn’t even bother knocking; he simply twists the knob on the door and shoves it open.  His eyes narrow as the door bangs against the wall and he sees Henry on the phone.  Maybe (definitely) it’s rude but his blood is fucking boiling so he doesn’t really care.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck this is about?” he asks, waving his cell phone in Henry’s direction.

The man himself barely reacts.  He murmurs quietly that he’ll call the person back and then gently rests the receiver back in the cradle.  “Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” he begins and fuck that.

“Cut the shit,” Alex says, advancing on him.  “What - the fuck - is this?” he asks, shoving his phone at Henry.

With an annoyingly put-upon sigh, Henry stands and walks over to the door to his office, shutting it softly and clicking the lock.  “It appears to be your mobile,” he says passively, barely any inflection in his voice.  “One would think you’d know that by now, considering the blasted thing is practically welded to your hand.”

Alex really wants to rise to the bait but he’s so spitting mad he can’t bring himself to get off topic.  “Can you stop being professional for one fucking second and answer my question?” he demands.  “Why do I have a text from my agent three hours before a game?”

Henry adjusts his stance - the first sign he’s slightly uncomfortable - and crosses his arms.  “I would assume you’re in frequent contact with your agent,” he says, “considering you’re on every top ten list in Major League Baseball.”

#rwrb fanfic #my rwrb fanfic #rwrb fanfiction #my writing #snippet #hello muse? #baseball fic #rwrb au #rwrb baseball au

[spadesolace]

countdown

pairing: highschool au! minji x fem! reader

warning/s: angst, internalized homophobia

spring cleaning was a chore you hated but also enjoyed, most of the things you put away haven’t seen the light of day for years. to see some old class pictures in high school, cringy letters you’ve received and questionable literary works you’ve done (gosh, were you really that down in the dumps to write something horrific?) digging deep enough, something caught your eye, an item that you probably just threw in to clean up some space. a bracelet with your initials and someone else. who did you know that had the initials KMJ?

Kim Minji.

something feels heavy, clutching for your chest, breathing unevenly. no, you told yourself that you won’t cry because of her again. everything hurts, somehow it feels as if you can’t cry but you’re shedding tears, the room feels a bit smaller, too small for your liking, and everything is closing in on you. countdown from 10.

10.

Kim Minji…

9.

do you remember me?

8.

was our friendship a waste?

7.

what was it that made you push me away?

6.

was it the way I acted?

5.

was it my feelings?

4.

you know I can’t control it.

3.

if i could…

2.

would things be different?

1.

would things be the same?

“Y/N?”

turning around, you saw minji running to you. dazzling smile that would make heads turn and not look away, her melodic laugh, and the way her eyes shined as if they were the galaxy. letting the girl come to you as she started walking next to you, there was no need to rush, it's only a walk to the library for your english class.

“look what i made.” she showed you her bracelet, a friendship bracelet, with her initials. it had the colors of blue, black, and white. cute. 

minji started explaining how she learned it within a day, even giving you your own but did you want it? well, yes, but it was a friendship bracelet, shouldn’t minji’s initials be yours? probably not, you’re overanalyzing things again, so you took it despite having doubts.

in the middle of the day, before you could go home, minji stopped you on your tracks. exchanging bracelets because hanni told her it was supposed to be the other way (so, you were right), letting her do her thing as she took off her bracelet and wore it on you. something simple and you’re already blushing, it's not like she’s proposing despite having a few thoughts about it. such a simp.

you were self-aware of your feelings for minji and it was getting a bit harder to keep it to yourself but its not like you’re going to confess. there was no point in confessing, minji wasn’t like that, right?

maybe you were wrong, minji came running to you after hearing certain rumors of hanni liking minji in a more than friends way. she was considering it, actually thinking of giving her a chance and now… you just feel empty. there was no advice coming from you or the coldness in your tone was evident, minji wasn’t dense, she just saw right through you. did you act upon your feelings? as if.

minji wasn’t like that, right? she didn’t like hanni that way, if she did you would have known. you were in denial, jealous, a bit possessive but you didn’t have the right to feel that way. just a friend, best friend, close friend, classmates, nothing more. a relationship with minji was a fantasy that you wished for every time, from a wishing well, a shooting star, the candles on your birthday cake, and holding your breath through a tunnel (which was risky). you knew the consequences, it was made aware to you whenever your emotions get the best of you; holding her tighter, cold shoulder, passive-aggressive statements, and sometimes kissing her hand… you were deep in denial.

until she confronted you, through chat, not even in person.

the rest of the school year, you simply messaged her but to no avail, she ghosted you. sending your goodbye on graduation day, minji became a thing of the past as you finally took the bracelet off and said goodbye to that chapter. she was your first love and it brought you pain, misery, and a lot of trauma.

the second time you fell, you didn’t confess, doubting everything, she showed you the beauty of the world and how to love yourself (as cliche as it is). you would do anything for her, because you actually felt loved.

“Y/N?” now, you’re back in your closet, holding your chest, while the bracelet was now on the floor. did you fall asleep?

“its ok, take deep breaths, what happened? another panic attack?” slowly opening your eyes, finally seeing your girlfriend soothing your back as your breathing finally went back to normal.

“y-yeah… just saw this and things went to shit.” you tried laughing at it but she only looked at you concerned, finally noticing the bracelet, you heard her curse under her breath.

“its ok, haerin. i’m fine… how long was i out?”

“about 10 minutes, your mom panicked and called me immediately.”

after that, haerin helped you with spring cleaning, letting her finish the one with your high school items to avoid any more incidents. your mind wandered, does she miss you? did she regret what she did? or was everything nothing to her?

minji is the past, haerin is your present and your future. still, you wanted to send your thanks to minji for helping you grow as a person. wherever she is, you hope not to see her again.

“y/n, come on, let’s get some ice cream.” minji was right, you and haerin really had a thing going and you regret not taking it early.

#minji x reader #kim minji #kim minji newjeans #kim minji x reader #newjeans #newjeans imagines #newjeans x reader #kpop x reader #kpop gg #angst

[itsclydebitches]

There’s been a lot of talk in the fandom lately about this desire to downplay Ed’s atrocities in the first season. As others have discussed, this seems to largely be in an attempt to a) reach a kind of distilled wholesomeness for BlackBonnet that, for all the actual cuteness attached to the ship, doesn’t truly exist when you’re talking about the romance between two deadly pirates, and b) position Izzy as the sole bad guy so that Option A can flourish and/or simply because some fans don’t like him and yay demonizing the characters we’re not fond of. Great stuff, love all that I’ve read. To add onto the conversation just a bit, I think it’s worth emphasizing Izzy’s line in the finale:

“Blackbeard is himself again.”

With the giant caveat that I don’t believe Izzy wanted the Kraken—AKA this level of violence and deadly unpredictability. I mean, Izzy is the guy who was begging Ed for a plan, some measure of stability to stay safe, so he really doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d want to live on a ship where his captain will randomly enter his cabin to cut off toes, his masochistic tendencies aside—but this line is a crystal-clear acknowledgement that the original Blackbeard was at least somewhat like the Kraken is now. What characteristics do we see then?

A sudden and unprompted murder (Lucius)

Potentially circumventing the moral dilemma of that murder via a technicality (I didn’t kill Lucius, the sea did)

A maiming (something Ed has admitted to enjoying and he’s done this specific act of violence in the past)

Rejecting emotional expression (“Stop crying.”)

Downplaying the suffering of others (“It’s just the pinky.”)

Engaging in threats to keep others in line (“Threaten me again, ever… I’ll feed you the rest, understand?”)

Expecting the crew to serve their captain regardless of what they’re struggling with (Who cares if you lost a toe, Izzy, come find me ASAP)

Making good use of others before tossing them aside (the crew will get rid of Stede’s “old dross” and then he’ll maroon them)

The implication that if things don’t occur in what he considers a timely manner, more punishment will follow (“Quickly now! … Quicker! Quicker!”)

Kidnapping (Jim + threatening Frenchie)

Working under the belief that if he can’t be happy, no one else can either (let’s separate the other couples by killing Lucius and keeping Jim on board).

Basically, I’ve seen a lot of posts that engage with the potential nuances of Ed’s past, questioning how bad it really was, and usually ending up on the side of absolving him via headcanons. Maybe he didn’t really set a ship of people on fire, Calico Jack did that and Ed was just passively involved. Do we know that his subordinate actually skinned that guy with a snail fork, or was it just an order given in a fit of fury that Ed later pulled back from? Did he really maim people, or is that just a random example to reflect the violent life he wants to leave behind? And beyond the fact that I think it’s bad analysis to read so much of Ed’s actions as intrinsically up for debate when the narrative itself never draws them into question… yes, Ed maims someone right on screen. We watch him do that and Izzy’s response is, ‘Ah, Ed’s finally back to normal!’

It may well be a slightly more extreme version of normal, but the Kraken didn’t come out of nowhere.

The argument that Ed was healing until Izzy manipulated him into becoming a monster not only ignores Ed’s personal agency—getting yelled at by a co-working in a way they know will hurt you, while horrible, isn’t justification for assault and murder—but also that follow-up of, “Blackbeard is himself again.” Izzy can’t force Ed to become something he’s not if Izzy’s entire purpose here is to bring back who Ed previously was. He’s trying to restore a past behavior, not conjure up a new one that’s the antithesis to Ed’s robe-wearing personality. Even when he was at his happiest with Stede, Ed still gave the snail fork order, threatened the Frenchman for “oomph,” explained casually how to take a ship in a raid (that is, kill everyone on board), was prepared to shoot up a dining room after a bunch of assholes laughed at him, was romanced by Stede letting them burn alive, and his idea of pirate fun is getting whipped in the balls/having animals fight to the death. Ed is a violent person! Because of course he is. He’s a pirate. Izzy isn’t some mastermind who molded Ed until he was a shadow of his former, passivist self, Izzy threw one (1) temper tantrum, found a particularly cruel button to push—“pining for his boyfriend”—and that’s all it took for Ed to choke him out against the wall. “There he is.” Blackbeard was always there, right beneath the surface, a tiny nudge away, and if you go on that kind of murder spree from one cruel remark then, sorry, but those tendencies were never truly being dealt with in the first place. Blackbeard (and to an extent the Kraken) have always been here. They never left. They’re Ed. Izzy didn’t create them and as much as I love fluffy, wholesome, tooth-rottingly sweet BlackBonnet content in a fandom space, pretending that they’re canonically #PureBabies is a serious misreading of the text. To say nothing of a dismissal of one of OFMD’s biggest themes. Stede arrives wanting to change pirating’s “culture of abuse,” even while he romanticizes it.

Who do we think represents that culture and its romanticism best, if not the feared pirate legend Stede falls in love with?

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #Izzy Hands #mymetas