#if you don't know about lace code then look it up

[iolypse]

I keep seeing people give hobie two blue laces and, while awesome, that isn't totally accurate. the ones on his right boot are yellow! they represent anti racism in punk culture.

here's his official art, rather than official concept art (aka what I see people referencing most often to draw him. that art has two blue laces), which, although super detailed, is still just concept art.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobart brown #spiderpunk #im a big fan of lace code #s kind of dead but like it's still neat #and while yeah hating/killing cops and fascists is a big part of his chatacter #he's also all about equality and helping out the little guy #so the yellow laces are just as important as the blue laces and it sucks to see them go ignored #if you don't know about lace code then look it up #google's free #keep giving him double blue if you want though honestly fuck cops

[yoichiris]

love me now | itoshi rin x reader

✩ we were born in a box ✩ pro-player!rin, hurt with comfort, secret dating au

when rin first asks you to keep quiet about your relationship, you're too in love to care.

after all, many things weren't public: not the little smile he gives you when he walks into your apartment, not the way his lashes flutter in the morning sunlight, and definitely not his grunts when he pushes into you. these were sides of rin that were only reserved for you.

but the frustration builds, with every goal that rin scores, the more attention he gets, and the more faded into the background you are.

you stand in the audience, the crowd booming as the ball strains against the net where rin has just kicked it, your eyes trained on him. usually you would've cheered, but recently you've been feeling alone. and you know it's unfair, but he doesn't even look for you, completely focused on the field.

"did you see that?" you hear some guy talking to his partner next to you, voice laced with disbelief.

"fucking awesome," someone else says.

these are the moments rin lives for, you think. outplaying the opponent. making the goal in a way that doesn't allow any doubt about his skill. the set expression on his face tells you everything, that he's planned for this moment and this moment only, and it makes you sad that you've never once crossed his mind.

sometimes you watch rin's teammates run to their partners after winning a game. you try to imagine what rin would be like, if he were like that with you. would he be like bachira, who practically swings his partner over the railings? or isagi, who cups his partner's face between his hands and presses a sensual kiss to their lips?

you think harder, and the answer is probably neither.

which is how you end up standing at the gates of his apartment a few hours after his game ends, feeling apprehensive, when you know he'll return after doing his decompression, doing press, debriefing with his team.

rin's eyes change when he sees you.

"what are you doing here?" he asks, barely glancing at you, "i thought i told you always to wait for me inside."

in case someone sees us, is the unspoken part.

it made you feel special when he had given you the code to his apartment, bypassing all manners of security, having your name discreetly given to the concierge at the lobby. but all of that had been for his career, and his career only.

for rin, everything revolved around being the best at what he did. and you understood. but did you really hinder his career that much?

i don't want them to focus on something so trivial, he had told you once. you know he's talking about gossip, paparazzi, sensational headlines, not you, but you can't help but take it the wrong way. were you trivial to him?

"what are you so scared of, rin?" you ask him softly, your stance firm when he tries to redirect you past the unlocked gates.

he scowls, "what's gotten into you?"

"i don't know," you admit, not really knowing what you want to say, driven only by the feeling of loneliness in your chest, "what do you get out of this?"

the confusion flickers over his face for only a moment. always smart, he is.

"out of what? our relationship?" he retaliates, the way he says relationship making you flinch, even if his tone has barely changed.

you're scared to look at him, because you know what you're asking him to admit. i like you, he had said at the beginning of it all. his expression had been blank, but his eyes had an intensity that made you believe him. and you do.

but being head over heels in love with him as you are, thinking it'd be enough for everything... you hadn't been prepared. not for this kind of life with him.

"yeah," you mumble, quiet, "...i'm just tired of being your secret, rin."

he looks frustrated.

"you're not," he tells you, and once again you believe him, but it's just not enough. "what do you want me to do?"

you don't know. is there anything you could ask him to do? did you have the right to ask him to do everything he had already refused once to do?

you've had this conversation. once, twice. but rin's always been immovable, stubborn. and it's not like you didn't know that his career would always be his priority. so you had dropped it, thinking that you could move past it.

"nothing," you reply, voice shaking. you look down. you don't have the energy to do this a third time.

you sniffle, not yet crying. "i'm gonna go, okay?" you tell him, "it was a good game today."

he reaches out to you instinctively, long fingers circling your hand. he holds onto you for a moment, and you think for a second he'll say something. but he breaks eye contact first and lets you go.

"thanks," he says instead, "be careful on your way home."

you think that's your answer and tell him goodbye.

when you wake up the next morning, you feel completely disoriented. you think the noise you hear is your alarm clock, but you quickly realize that it's just your phone buzzing incessantly.

you sit up in bed, wondering if your eyes are deceiving you.

scrolling through the hundreds of messages in your inbox, scanning through most of the keyboard smashes, and seeing rin's name over and over again, brings you to rin's instagram.

your heart pounds as your eyes take in the picture. you've never seen it before, but you recognize the sprawl of your hair, the familiar crumple of rin's sheets around you.

he's in the frame too, his lips slightly parted at the top right, his exposed collarbone leaving nobody wondering what you two were doing. your face isn't shown, but a tap on the picture shows you that he's tagged your private instagram.

of course rin would post the raunchiest picture allowed to be posted to announce your relationship. of course he had to outdo all other relationship announcements. and of course he would do it at 2am, hours after you'd had your fight.

you can barely breathe when you scroll down to the caption.

Liked by sae_it and others

itoshi_rin love you.

your fingers shake as you swipe back to your home screen, to the rin's name on your favorites page, to call him. he answers on the third ring, his voice raspy.

"hey," he grunts, sounding like all those times you've woken up next to him, with his arm slung over your waist, his chin tucked over your form.

you snuggle into your blankets at the sound of his voice. "you have something to say to me, rin?" you tease.

"no," he says, always mean, and you imagine the slight slant of his frown. "i got practice soon. talk to you later, yeah?"

you're about to protest, but he cuts you off— "i love you."

you think he's about to hang up, but there's a moment of silence as he waits, vulnerable, for you to respond. you smile, thinking about rin holding his breath on the other end of the phone.

"i love you, too."

View all 9,782 comments

sae_it 3h ? 3892 likes Reply

isagiy 3h im gonna kill you 1092 likes Reply

bachira.megu 2h congrats!!!! FINALLY 957 likes Reply

namu_09035 1h OH MY GODHJAJHD MY HEART YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE 567 likes Reply

__iluvu__ 1h YOURE SO HOT HOLY FUCK 372 likes Reply

#blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin x you #yoi's crops 🌱 #from: itoshi rin🎀

[cherryrainn]

ECLIPSED .

; pairing ; adam x sinner! reader

; note ; request i got on wattpad!

; warnings ; none

adam kicked back, watching the chaos unfold in hell from his lofty perch in heaven. it was like a twisted reality show, and he reveled in the spectacle of sinners tearing each other apart.

"get 'em, you filthy bastards!" he shouted, a wicked grin spreading across his face as the damned souls clashed in a violent dance of destruction. it was a symphony of chaos that resonated with the delight in his secretly twisted heart.

then, his gaze fixated on a particularly alluring sinner, you, who moved with a sinful grace. "damn, look at that hot piece of ass!" adam exclaimed, his eyes widening with carnal desire.

lute, who was standing next to him, dared to interrupt his reverie. "sir, what are you talking about?"

adam shot her an irritated look. "fuck you, bitch! can't you see i'm busy? get the fuck outta here!" he growled, waving her away.

lute rolled her eyes, muttering to herself as she retreated. "yes, sir. have your fun."

adam, still fixated on the enticing sinner, decided to kick things up a notch. with a snap of his fingers, he made whatever ethereal device he was using to watch hell follow the sinner, who happened to be you, into your home.

through a portal, adam descended into the depths of hell, ready to make a surprise entrance. as he materialized in your home, you were taken aback, thinking the extermination had started early.

"what the heck?!" you exclaimed, eyes wide with shock as you took in the unexpected intrusion. "is it over for me already?"

but adam, grinning with delight, reassured you, "fuck no!"

you eyed him cautiously, wondering what the hell was happening. "who are you, and how'd you get in here?"

adam's expression shifted, a mix of surprise and indignation crossing his features. "what the fuck do you mean, 'who am I'?" he retorted, his voice laced with offended arrogance. "i'm adam? the first fucking man? the big fucking cheese up in heaven! how do you not know who i am?"

you blinked, taken aback by his sudden outburst. "uh, sorry." you replied, trying to diffuse the tension.

adam scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "un-fucking-believable. you sinners don't know shit," he muttered under his breath, his ego bruised by your apparent ignorance.

you eyed adam cautiously, still trying to process the fact that the first man was standing in your living room. "anyway! you're hot!" he declared, his arrogance undeterred by your confusion.

"what?" you stammered, genuinely bewildered by the sudden change in tone.

adam leaned against your furniture, a smug grin on his face. "you heard me."

your skepticism was palpable. "are you even allowed here? aren't there like, rules?" you asked, your voice tinged with both caution and curiosity.

adam waved off your concern with a dismissive smirk. "rules? fuck the rules. i do what i want."

you furrowed your brows. "but, like, isn't that against the... heavenly code or... something?"

he groaned. "who gives a shit!? i'm here for a good time, not a long time."

and so began the surreptitious rendezvous between an angel and a sinner. during exterminations, adam would sneak away from his duties just to see you. you'd usually be hiding, fearing the consequences of being caught, but adam would always find you.

"chill out, y/n! it's just you and me," he'd whisper, his cocky grin never fading.

and against all odds, love began to take root, wrapping its tendrils around both celestial and damned hearts. It wasn't just a desire – it was a connection that ran deeper than the realms they inhabited.

yet, adam couldn't shake the knowledge that being in love with a sinner was wrong. he had entered your world just wanting to fuck around with some hot piece of shit, a way to spice up his boredom. but now, he found himself entangled in emotions he hadn't bargained for.

he was confused, he wanted to protect you..? to shield you from the eternal damnation that loomed over your head? 

he didn't just wanna fuck around with you – he wanted something more. he wanted you, all of you, body and soul. he wanted to be with you, to stand by your side against the forces that sought to tear you apart

and then, one fateful day, as he lounged in your humble abode, a sudden epiphany struck him like a bolt of lightning. 

"i wanna get you into heaven," he declared, his voice tinged with a newfound determination. "i don't give two shits about the rules anymore. maybe it's time for heaven to change."

#ADAM #adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #y/n #reader insert #x reader #request

[auteurdelabre]

CODE BROKEN EPILOGUE Joel!Miller x f!Reader

rating: 18+ (youngin's scram!)

tags: established relationship, p in v, dirty talk, romance, LOVE LOVE, soft Joel.

a/n: To @ halseyquinn666 who asked in the A03 comments:

“Would you ever do vignettes for them? This is one of my all time fav stories <3”

Well Halsey, turns out yeah, I would. Let's call it an epilogue.

-------------

CODE BROKEN EPILOGUE

The night is drizzly and quiet. Most folks in Jackson city are in their homes drinking warm cocoa and reading before the fire. Some are playing board games with their families. Others bake bread, their cheeks warmed from the oven. 

But not you and Joel. 

No, the two of you stand shoulder to shoulder outside The Tipsy Bison, protected by the overhang of the roof. 

His large hand holds yours tightly, fingers lacing. He smells like the cologne he uses sparingly and the laundry you brought in from the line that afternoon before the rain began. His shoulders are dotted with a few raindrops, a darker green than the rest of his jacket.

Joel's eyes dip to the color on your lips, lingering on the cohl around your eyes. You dressed up for tonight, wore your nicest dress and did your hair and makeup. You don't normally go to all this effort but tonight felt like you should. 

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Joel rumbles next to you, a soft look in his eyes. 

"Once before you ripped the dress off and took me back to bed," you say with a playful grin. "And twice more after we got re-dressed." 

The last month with Joel has been idyllic. Not one night has been spent without his arms around you. You take turns going from his bed to yours, give and take on the positions you fuck each other in, who makes the coffee.  

Nights are dreamy and spent talking about past life lived, about dreams for the future. Over fingers of whiskey you tell him about your dream of writing a book about the inhabitants of Jackson. Joel doesn't laugh or challenge this. He just nods as if it's a natural conclusion, as if you were always meant to do it and he was always meant to support you in it. 

Joel glances over to see your profile, the concern in your eyes. You feel his gaze and return it with a wobbling smile. 

"Still wanna do this?" 

"Mhm."

It was decided last week that tonight would be when you two made things public.

Official. 

You'd thought you were ready for it, but now looking at the chipped wood door and hearing the low murmur and occasional laughter coming from behind it you tense. 

There are so many people inside. So many faces you know, Mark and Tess and the rest of the usual Friday night crowd. 

The Bison is always busier on dreary nights when many patrons don't feel like returning to their quiet homes. You think that the stillness must still unsettle people who are used to running. 

Perhaps that's what has you stalling. 

Thoughts of all those eyes on you both the second you walk into the bar. The hushed judgments and confused stares. Joel and Tess made sense when they went out. Both hard and abrasive when they needed to be. Both with those steely gazes and infrequent smiles. So opposite to you with your stitched daisy dresses and easy laughter. 

While Joel goes to great lengths to avoid people and connection you seem to welcome it. From the way you greet everyone on your way to breakfasts or how you're so quick to lend a hand to your neighbor. People still come up to commend you on Trish's wedding. 

His palm goes to the back of your head, stroking down your hair and spine. You melt into the contact until he reaches the base of your spine, hand sliding from your body. 

"What're we waitin' on, pretty eyes?" he rumbles, mouth at your temple. 

"Nothing," you answer quickly. 

His large hand finds yours and holds tightly, fingers lacing once more. He pulls you to the side of the bar, giving you a moment to breathe. You feel the rough of his calloused palm as he tugs you under the roof to avoid the light droplets. 

It takes you back to last week in your bed, Joel's hips rocking up into yours, the sound of his gravely groans as his head tilted back in the pillow. 

The headboard smacked into the wall, your hands gripping the wood for support as you rode him furiously. Your bodies were drenched with sweat; it had been a lazy morning of enjoying each other's bodies. 

His calloused hands held your hips in quite the same fashion he holds your hand now, something gentle that borders on possession. 

"So fuckin' beautiful," he groaned, eyes shuttering as he gripped you, watching you bounce on his lap. You moaned, body arching as you chased your high. Your hands were on his chest as you raised and lowered yourself on his length, your skin slapping obscenely in the quiet bedroom.

"Uh huh just like that," Joel crooned as you shattered around him moments later, a small curl of his lips at the sight. "That's my girl." 

You preened at his honeyed voice tinged with grit.

His girl. Joel Miller's girl. 

You loved it. 

Before you could say anything more Joel had gripped the back of your neck and the low of your back, rolling you both over until he was on top of you, his biceps caging you in on either side. 

"Gonna let me give it t'you, pretty eyes?"

You could only moan, nodding as you urged him deeper inside of you. You both groaned lowly at the sensation, even though it was far from the first time you'd done it. His mouth found yours as it always did when you two were in this position. 

There had not been a day since Joel's confession that he hasn't kissed you so soundly your knees went weak. Arms wrapping around your waist from behind as you waited for the coffee to brew, soft mouth at your jaw. Joining you in the shower, mouth damp and searching yours as he fucked you senseless against the tile. The lingering kiss he gives you each night before bed, accompanied by the sweetest sigh. 

Your arms went around his middle, fingers dimpling the flesh of his muscled back as he licked into your mouth, savoring the way your tongues dabbed, the way you let his tongue thrust into your mouth the same way his cock did into your pussy. 

And then he drifted back, starting a slow and measured pace as he braced himself above you. 

"That's my girl," Joel rasped, his dark eyes fixed on your face. Your hands went to his cheek, thumbs on his jaw as you locked eyes. "My sweet fuckin' girl."

"I'm your girl," you assured him, peppering kisses there before giving out a small whimper, hands falling and fisting the sheets as his thumb came to slide along your clit. "Only yours."

Joel's mouth pressed gently to yours, his elbows bracing him up as his fingers smoothed the hair back from your face. 

"Lemme take you out," Joel rasped as he began to fuck you in earnest. "Want everyone to see us so they know you're mine." 

You shouldn't have been so turned on at the possessive nature of what he said, but you were. The thought had thrilled you at the time.

You'd agreed, heart beating as Joel's face broke into an eager smile and his mouth found yours again. 

But now you're here in front of the Bison and all that excited certainty is replaced by something far less appealing. 

"Cold feet?" His voice is concerned. 

"Just taking a moment," you mutter. "Wanna enjoy these last few seconds when it's just us. Before everyone has opinions."

"Fuck their opinions," Joel says. "I don't give a shit about what they think." 

You know he's being sincere. Joel doesn't suffer fools. 

"I only care about what you n' me think about it," Joel assures you. You feel warmth flood your entire body leaving you tingling. 

"And that's why I love you." 

You snap your mouth shut, feeling your eyes blow wide as you realize what you've just said.  Despite your stress about this evening you feel your heart suddenly pick up again at your choice of words.

The topic of love is tiptoed around in your homes. It's felt in every loving action you perform for one another. From the way Joel washes your hair at your request to the way you massage his sore muscles. It's in the way he strokes your cheek when you rest your head in his lap while you read and the way you hold his gaze when you ride him. 

But you've never said it. The words seemed too big, too monumental. 

But now they slipped past your teeth and lips, exposed to the air and the tall man who looks down at you with an amused curl to his lips, seeing the way your cheeks flame and your eyes drop. You feel yourself falter, a strained smile on your face. 

"Sorry," you say in a rush. "I didn't mean-"

His mouth covers yours, pressing a full lipped kiss there and stopping you from saying more. There with the rain pattering down on the tin roof, you cling to Joel as his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly to him. 

You sigh against his mouth, letting his arms wrap around your waist as you fling your arms around his neck. He kisses you unhurried, not caring if patrons are coming or going. All he cares about is the soft sensation of your lips working against his. 

"Nothin' to be sorry about," he murmurs against your temple as he drags his mouth from yours moments later. "Never have to be sorry about that, baby."

You still have a hard time not feeling embarrassed. "It's just I never.... I've never said it to anyone before."

It hangs there between you both, this heavy admission. Joel had a daughter, a life before all of this. He's known love, declared it. But you? It's never felt right until Joel. 

You feel his forefinger brushing your chin, urging your face up. 

"I love you," he tells you plainly, no frills, just truth. "V'loved you for a long while now. Every morning I wake up and you're there I fall in love all over again. I love you so damn much, pretty eyes. I still can't believe you're mine." 

Your eyes are brimming with tears, so much that Joel is now a watercolor blur. Knowing it and hearing it are so different. 

"How long?"

His brows knit together in concern. "How long what?"

"How long have you loved me?"

Now it's Joel's turn to look shy. His boots scrape against the dirt on the ground. You hide a grin as he clears his throat before finally answering. 

"Realized it the day at the bookstore."

The day he chased after you with the copy of Jane Eyre. Many many months before now when you yourself weren't even sure how you felt about him. 

"That's an awfully long time," you tease gently before you wrap your arms around his middle, tucking yourself up under his chin. "Waited a long time to tell me." 

"Didn't want to scare ya," Joel murmurs into the crown of your head as his arms encircle you.  

"You could never." 

You mean it. Joel is your safe harbor, your light in the darkness. Your hands lace around the back of his neck, urging his face to yours. 

You kiss him again, a tender, soft thing before you glance back at the closed door of the Bison and then back at the man who looks at you with stars in his dark eyes. 

"Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"I'm ready." 

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #dad joel miller #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller #dark!joel miller #dark!joel #dark!joel x reader

[nonotnolan]

Spring Break

Simon let out a deep sigh as he dropped Aiden's bookbag onto the floor of his dorm room. "Alright, man, you're all set," he said, giving Aiden a friendly nod. "I've taken the last of your mid-term final exams. Unless there's anything else you needed for me to do while I'm in your body, we're clear to swap back."

The first time Aiden had approached him, offering $200 to swap bodies for an exam... Simon had thought it was some sort of prank. The magical amulet was very real, as it turned out. How Aiden had found the item was unclear, but Simon had quickly learned that Aiden had no moral qualms about inhabiting other people's bodies. He was the fifth generation in a long line of successful businessmen, and so the expectation that money could buy anything he wanted had been hard-coded into Aiden's personality. After all, it bought him admission to a prestigious college and membership into one of the most competitive fraternities. Why couldn't money also buy you the expertise that you needed to succeed?

He fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. "I... actually, I did have a proposition for you," he said, avoiding eye contact. Ever since Aiden had learned that Simon was a gay man, he had been requesting that their quick academic swaps last longer and longer. Aiden was still in the closet, and living Simon's life for an evening allowed him to experience the life he wanted to live while still maintaining his straight-laced reputation.

Simon crossed his arms in annoyance. "I mean, I was planning on spending most of my Spring Break playing video games, but I know you're going to make it worth my time. What were you thinking, the first weekend?"

"The graduating seniors of my fraternity always book an eight day excursion out to the Hamptons. My proposal is that you would attend the trip in my stead."

"Jesus fuck, Aiden!' he yelled, taking a moment to process what he had just heard. "Eight days? Are you serious? This is the first time we'll be swapped for more than 12 hours, and you're just giving me a whole-ass week? What happens if your brothers get suspicious?"

Aiden just rolled his eyes. "Please, we both know I'm massively unpopular in the fraternity. They'll probably find you to be an improvement. Father allocated $20,000 for the week, plus travel and lodging. Anything you don't spend is yours to keep. What do you say?" Seeing his own body make Aiden's characteristic smarmy grin was still a really weird experience.

"I... Jesus, dude..." Simon would never be able to understand Aiden's detachment from the value of money. "I still can't believe you want to be me so badly. I mean... okay, look... that's tempting as hell, but... it was weird enough knowing that you've taken my body out to the bar scene. I don't know if I'm comfortable letting you live my life for over a week. What if you run into someone I know?"

"Oh, I wasn't planning to stay around here," he said, growing more excited as he began to sway Simon. "I've been preparing this trip for a few months by withdrawing Father's allowance and saving it up in case you said yes. If you give me your body for a week, I'll be flying out to San Francisco. Anyway, don't sell yourself short, this body is fantastic."

Simon shook his head in disbelief. "I mean... I want to argue, but I'd have to be an idiot to leave that much money sitting on the table. Alright, you've bought yourself a Spring Break trip." He picked Aiden's bag back up off the ground as he mentally steeled himself for a week in the life of an out-of-touch social scion. "Alright... do I need any extra information to pull this off, or...?"

Aiden hopped to his feet and wrapped him in an awkward bear hug. "Oh, you're the best. I'll forward you the trip reservations, and I'll change the PIN to my debit card so that you can just use that. See you in a week!"

"Yeah... see you in a week..." Simon echoed. He pulled out Aiden's phone, and scrolled down to the one person in the Fraternity who knew about Simon's secret, Aiden's roommate Grant. "You were right," he said, once Grant picked up the phone. "Aiden offered a swap over Spring Break and it was too good to turn down."

"Hah! Called it!" Grant said, with a triumphant laugh. "I told you you he would. I made certain to emphasize how much pussy all of us were going to be chasing out in the Hamptons, just in case he was on the fence about it."

Simon couldn't help but laugh. "Aiden really hasn't figured out that you're gay after all this time, has he?"

"Of course not, that would involve him paying attention to someone other than himself. And it had better stay that way-- dude's annoying enough without him having some sort of puppy dog crush on me. Anyway, I hope you're ready for a week of rampant debauchery in the Hamptons. Aiden's body is sexy as fuck when literally anyone else is inside of it. And we both know how sexy my body is."

The incoming text message was the only reason Simon realized that Grant had already hung up, but he was not about to complain about receiving a pic like that.

#male body swap #gay body swap #gay male story #casual body swap #preppy #spoiled

[thisismeracing]

Could you please make a quick blurb with this smut prompt (thought it was so mick-coded): ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜

I think the prompt was supposed to be about jealous!dom!mick, but I went with something a bit different (mick caught yn touching herself) that still fit into it. Hopefully, it's good!

Here you go! I hope you guys like it! Don't forget to reblog and leave me an ask/comment. *mwah*

word count: 0.8k

pairing: mick schumacher x reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: +18; mentions of sex; graphic description of masturbation and oral sex (fem receiving); not proofread; Minors DNI!

The buzz of the vibrator and your low whines were the only sound between the four walls of the room. The curtains were drawn shut halfway, casting just the perfect lighting inside. Yn pressed the little bullet harder on her clit, frustrated with how it did not seem enough for her body. She missed Mick. 

She needed Mick. 

But Yn wouldn’t come between him and racing. She knew he needed to train and do rounds and rounds of stuff though it was not race week. And if she asked, he would part himself in ten pieces so she could have one, but Yn did not want to burden him. She would never purposefully make him feel guilty for following his dreams, especially because Schumacher wasn’t anything but supportive of hers as well.

“Fuck,” she whispered, furiously adding two fingers into her slick hole in an attempt to feed her desires. 

Just when Yn was about to curse again the bedroom door opened, and Mick arched his brows watching his girlfriend scramble with the sheets to cover herself. 

“What are you doing, Liebe?” 

She stared at his gym clothes, he was probably about to leave. It was a bit earlier than usual, and that caught her off guard too. 

“I- uhm… nothing.” Yn faked a smile.

“That does not look like nothing to be,” he shot back. “You were touching yourself,” Mick pointed, smirking, “and you sound frustrated.”

Yn huffed, puffing her cheeks “Well, I am frustrated!! Neither this freaking toy nor my fingers seem to work.”

“Why didn't you just tell me so I could help you?”

Mick marches inside, throwing his shirt on the ground and lying on his stomach in front of Yn.

“Micky, you have training now. I don't wanna bug you.”

And then it draws to him. Mick realizes that maybe their schedule crashes weren’t working as he thought they did. Maybe Yn was feeling neglected. And though he too missed her and missed sex, he was so used to the rushing and hurrying pace of his life that he didn't stop to think too much about it.

“Look at me,” he got on top of her. 

Yn sighed and turned her face to his.

“You would never ever burden or bug me, you know it, Schatzi. What is it I always tell you?”

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, you tell me” Yn mocks, trying to sound like him and Mick chuckles at her sassyness.

“Now, drop these sheets, open your legs, and let me do my job” She starts to protest but Mick puts a finger on her lips. “You’re mine, and I take care of what belongs to me. Let me do my job,” he mumbles against the skin of her neck.

Yn whines before lacing her hands on Mick’s neck and bringing his lips to hers. His fingers wander to the inside of the shirt she’s wearing, his shirt, and he pushes it up enough to expose her naked chest. Mick gives Yn one last peck on the lips before trailing his kisses down her body. He plays with her boobs for a second, squeezing, biting, and licking them, before finally reaching her pussy.

She’s slick with wetness from her previous attempts to cum, and Mick hums in appreciation. He grabs the little bullet toy, turns it on, and brings it to her clit before kissing the inside of her thighs. That was just what she was doing before: rubbing the damn thing on her perky nub, but for some reason, when Mick does it it causes a whole different reaction. It’s like her body knows exactly what's coming, or rather who’s coming. 

Mick dips his head to her pussy and licks a stripe. He smirks at Yn’s body response and dives in adding two fingers inside her. They pass between her walls easily and he keeps his ministrations, kissing wherever his mouth reaches, fucking Yn with his fingers and rubbing her vibrator to her clit. 

“I’m so sorry I neglected you, babe,” he’s whispering and it only draws to Yn that he’s talking to her pussy when he states it looking into her eyes and says so. “I’m apologizing to her, I can’t believe we let her go so long without an orgasm.”

Yn closes her eyes and moves her hips up, torn between chuckling at Mick’s antics and cumming on the spot because holy fuck that was hot. 

“Such a pretty pussy, I’m gonna give what it deserves,” he states before adding another finger and raising the vibrations. It doesn’t take long for Yn to cum, and of course, Mick wasn’t satisfied with only one. He wanted to make up for the lost time, that meant she would cum at least three more times. 

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I had to refrain myself from making it bigger than what it was supposed to be lol but I hope you guys like it anyway!! Reblogs and asks are my fav form of support, make sure to leave them, every time you do a love fairy is born somewhere hihih

taglist: @sachaa-ff @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @formulakay3 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @carojasmin2204 @fdl305 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @saintslewis @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @leclercsluv

#millie writes smut #anon #requests #op: blurbs #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher #ms47 #millies inbox #f1 imagines #f1 smut #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mick schumacher fanfiction

[mintmatcha]

cw: implied mental illness/substance abuse references

Denki jams his tongue into his cheek as he types, folding his gum in half before popping it between his teeth. The action is repeated: squish, snap, squish, snap-- unmuted by his open mouth. The waves and all their static do nothing to cover the sound of it; the sand was abandoned long before sunset, but the ocean is never quiet.

Suddenly, Denki sits up, looking to you as if he just remembered you exist.

"Shit, you hate that sound, don't you?" He swallows hard and you know the piece of gum is gone, "My bad."

"It's okay."

"I'm just really trying to quit smoking."

"I know."

He stares at you for a long while, then sighs. He drags his finger through the sand, peeling away layers of dry to reveal the darker, wet below. Weight has filled out his cheeks and middle in ways that you know he hates, but it looks so much healthier than he's even been.

"Everyone hated when I smelled like cigarettes apparently," Denki says, trying to laugh, "It sucks that no one told me that I stunk all the time."

Everyone is code for the girl he keeps texting, one one that lights his screen up with pretty pink hearts and messages that make his eyes glimmer. She texts again, a soft yet unrelenting force.

"I liked it." The horizon is dotted with lights, blinking against the surf. They follow their own pattern, blinking arrhythmically with each other against the surf, "It just smelled like you to me."

"Do you..." Denki rubs the back of his neck, "I dunno, do you really miss all that?"

All that includes too much. The peaks, the lows. Before his medications were balanced and before he quit partying, when neither of you had any control over your lives.

"No," you say, and you mean it, "But I miss knowing things about you."

"You know me." Denki's phone buzzes again, "I'm still me."

"I know."

"I'm still your Kaminari."

"I know."

He isn't. He no longer stops for a pack of cigarettes and a row of Hi-Chew every night. He no longer responds to your texts or reaches out first. It's been months since he last passed out on your bathroom floor, months since he asked you if you were alright.

His hair is shorter than he's ever liked it.

A horn goes off in the distance: a ship rolling into port.

"I don't know what to do with you," Denki sighs, "Did you not want me to get better? Because it feels like you didn't want me to."

He waits only a second for you before sighing again.

"Why did you ask me to come here?"

Because you missed him. Because you need a friend. Because you've always come when he's called.

All you even wanted was for him to be okay.

"I just didn't think getting better would mean I'd lose you."

"You didn't-" His phone goes off again, humming and buzzing harder. He scrambles to pick it up, pushing on to his feet. "Fuck, I really gotta take this."

"It's fine."

"I'll be right back."

"It's fine."

He answers and calls her baby with all the warmth and welcome he used to have for you. She's the one he goes to when the waters are calm and life is easy. You are the port in a storm, the one holding an umbrella until the rain passes.

You leave your sneakers there and walk the shore, the lace foam clinging to your socks and salt licking at your jeans. After fifteen minutes, he calls you once. You wait for a text or second try, but it doesn't come.

When you cry, it's from the bottom of the gut, ripping up like bile. The sound is swallowed by the sea.

[nevess]

[ I crave a love that drowns oceans ] -K. Azizian

🌱… description: You and Anakin have had a rough time lately. The secret of being together has created some tension, but theres more to the burdens on Anakins heart. it appears to be that even the tiniest things can make you both want to explote at eachother, yet somehow it only happened until today.

🍵 … warnings: none? Just a bit of fighting with eachother, maybe intense feelings.

🧳 … character/s: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☕️ … word count: around 1k ; | date: October 8th, 2023

🗞️ back to the main menu

a/n: more of this beautiful anakin x reader dinamic i have going on in my head. Disclaimer: i didn’t read it after finishing, so i apologize for any typos :p In other news, im looking for beta readerssss here's the post!

You and Anakin had been at it for what felt like an eternity, your voices rising in anger and frustration. The argument had strayed so far from its initial topic that it was almost comical, but neither of you found any humor in the situation. Your secret relationship as Jedi was a constant source of tension, and lately, it seemed like every conversation had the potential to turn into a battle.

Anakin paced back and forth across the small confines of your room, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this," he snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

You sat on the edge of your bed, your hands clenched into fists. "Because, Anakin," you retorted, your voice shaking with frustration, "I wish you would just talk to me.” You looked at him in disbelief, you were being tormented by an amount of uncomfortable emotions getting out of control.  “It's like you're shutting me out." 

He stopped pacing and turned to face you, his blue eyes ablaze with anger. "I'm not shutting you out," he said sharply. You were dismayed by the tone of his voice, yet you decided to just take a deep breath and let him talk. "I'm protecting us, protecting our secret." 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stood, your voice trembling. You were not going to allow him to make up excuses for the way he was acting towards you. "It doesn't feel like protection, It feels like you don't trust me" You confessed as the words blasted out of your mouth. Your heart ached, you were outraged. Anakin and you haven't been able to truly connect with each other in a long time since the war had a toll on the time you could spend in each other's company. And it seemed that frustrations were reaching you both, as any small inconvenience seemed to make you both want to explode, except that somehow you had never fought until today. 

Anakin's expression softened for a moment, but then his defenses went up again. "It's not about trust," he argued. "It's about following the Jedi Code. We can't afford to let our emotions get in the way."

You took a step closer to him, your voice demonstrating your new demeanor, now calmed and passive. You knew that adding more fire to fire would only make it worse, someone had to be the adult in the situation. "Since when do you care about that, Anakin?” You make a quick silence as you look him in the eye. “We're not just Jedi. We're people too. We have feelings, and we can't keep pretending like they don't exist."

He looked torn, caught between his duty as a Jedi and his love for you. There was something else bothering him, he wasn't telling you the whole story. But letting him open up slowly would be the best course of action for now. "I know," he said quietly. "But we have to be careful. We can't let anyone find out about us." That wasn't it, he was still not telling you what was truly happening to him. 

The frustration was not boiling inside you anymore, yet it decided to hide away. A small sigh left between your lips, loudly enough for him to hear. The tears you were holding back seemed to be gone, just like the anger you felt moments ago. "I understand you are worried about others finding out," You were careful with your words. Your tone was warm and sincere. "I just want you to be honest with me, to let me in." 

Anakin's eyes softened, and he took a step towards you, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm scared, Y/N," he admitted, his walls finally starting to crack.  Now this is what you should have been talking about from the start. You noticed he wasn't looking you in the eyes. "I'm scared of losing you." 

Anakin was the living proof someone could live in constant internal dissonance. Right now, was one of those moments where he was chasing clarity but was left with a puzzle without all the pieces. That's where you come in. You help him find those pieces so he can put them together on his own. 

You reached out and took his hand, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I'm scared too," you whispered, burying your face in his chest. "But we'll figure this out together. We can't keep fighting like this." 

One of your hands slowly moved towards the back of his neck, caressing gently, as your eyes met his once again. “Look, I can't make promises I may not be able to keep.” You whispered while trying to find the words to comfort his worries. “But I can promise you I'll always be here for you, for as long as I can.” His arms were keeping you close to him, scared, almost desperate, as if once he lets you go you'll be gone forever. 

The tension slowly melted away as you both clung to each other. You were now playing with his hair, trying to sooth him. Anakin's grip was firm, as if he could draw strength from your presence alone. Yet, you didn't need to use the force to feel the turmoil in him, his conflicted emotions like a storm raging beneath the surface. He didn't need to say it again; his fear of losing you was palpable. Instead, you felt his heart pounding against yours, his breath coming in uneven intervals.

His voice, when he spoke, was raw with emotion. "I just don't know how to navigate this, Y/N. It all seems so suffocating sometimes… I can't imagine a life without you in it." The blue eyed man was truly being tormented by something you don't yet understand. A fear that ran so deep… The only connection you could make with his past was the loss of his mother; a loss you knew scared his heart.

You moved one of your hands to his cheek, understanding the weight of his words. Anakin was a Jedi through and through —even when he was impulsive and impatient by nature—, bound by duty and honor, and yet he was also deeply in love with you. The conflict within him tore at his soul.

"I know, Anakin," you whispered softly, "We're treading a treacherous path, but we're in this together. We'll find a way to make it work." You hoped that your words represented what he needed to hear, you hoped they could give him the reassurance he needed. 

The brunette nodded against your shoulder, his grip loosening just slightly. "I can't lose you, Y/N. I won't." The last two words that came out of his mouth worried you, very much. You were afraid of what he was able to do in order to prevent that from happening. You knew every inch of Anakin Skywalker, like the palm of your hand. Even so, you didn't know where to stand, something in you was screaming. This was the opening you needed to help him navigate through his feelings. 

You smiled gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "And you won't. But you dont have to carry this burden alone. Come.” 

As Anakin and you moved to the bed, you found yourselves in a simple yet inviting quarters within the Jedi Temple. The room was a reflection of your life as a Jedi, with a hint of individuality amidst the serene surroundings.

The walls were adorned with soft, muted colors, chosen to promote tranquility and mindfulness. A large window stretched across one side of the room, allowing the soft, golden light of the setting sun to filter in, casting a warm glow over the space. The view outside offered a glimpse of the Temple gardens, a reminder of the beauty and serenity that existed within these hallowed walls.

The room was sparsely furnished, with just the essentials—a neatly made bed with simple linens, a small meditation cushion in one corner, and a low wooden table that served as a makeshift desk. A few personal items from missions adorned the tabletop, including small trinkets and mementos collected from different planets.

On a nearby shelf, there was a collection of well-worn books, each with a story and knowledge from the worlds you had explored during your Jedi missions. These volumes were a source of both solace and wisdom, their pages filled with experiences from other Jedi’s that had shaped your understanding of the galaxy.

Beside the books, a stack of notebooks lay neatly arranged. These journals held your thoughts, reflections, and observations about your life as a Jedi. They chronicled the struggles and triumphs, the doubts and resolutions, offering a glimpse into the inner world of a dedicated Jedi.

As you and Anakin settled onto the bed, the room seemed to envelop you both in a sense of calm and contemplation. It was a place where the burdens of being a Jedi could momentarily be set aside, a sanctuary where love could bloom amidst the memories of the past and the uncertainties of the future.

You proceed to cuddle in the middle of the bed. Anakin hugging your body, while you played with his hair. Your voice was a soothing melody that wrapped around Anakin's heart like a warm embrace. It carried a serenity that seemed to flow effortlessly, a tranquil river of understanding and empathy. Your words were spoken with a gentle cadence, each syllable carrying a weight of genuine affection and love.

As you uttered, "Let me help you carry this," your voice resonated with a sincerity that went beyond mere words. It held a profound tranquility, a calm assurance that you were there for him, ready to share the burden of his emotional turmoil. Your voice was a balm to his troubled soul, a reminder that in your presence, he could find solace and acceptance.

In that moment, your voice acted as a beacon of unwavering support, a testament to the depth of your feelings for Anakin. It was a voice that whispered promises of understanding and devotion, assuring him that together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead. He finally opened up. 

© Nevess 2023. My original posts are not allowed to be edited, translated and/or re-uploaded on another account or platform without my permission, nevertheless, re-blogs are accepted and very appreciated.

#nevess.writing #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin fanfiction #sw anakin #anakin imagine #anakin angst #anakin skywalker angst #star wars anakin #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker clone wars #anakin skywalker x you #anakin #anakin needs a hug #anakin x reader #anakin x y/n #anakin x oc #anakin x fem reader #star wars fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #anakin clone wars

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I know theres a lot ot talk of Hobie's past and I love the idea of BigFamily!Hobie. But may I PLEASE add to the table:

StreetKid!Hobie -

It's not as happy or wholesome of a backstory as Hobie with a big family, and a big community - but there's still tenderness there I PROMISE.

Like - Maybe Hobie understood what Gwen was going through because he's been through it himself. He knows what it's like.

I like the headcanon that Hobie just...didn't have a family. No tragic backstory or anything. Just the sharp reality that the system lets some kids fall through the cracks.

Because it's a story or reality we hardly ever see, but it's one that exists - being a homeless street kid. We hardly see that story in it's entirety, rather than just the dramatic scenes.

But like STREETKID!HOBIE

He doesn't have anyone to take him to school or buy him uniforms - so he went to the library to teach himself. He doesn't have much money, but the men at the kebab shops know him, the kid that comes in asking for 'anything they've got' , with 2 pounds 50 pence. So they start feeding him, free of charge.

He helps run errands for the old ladies, and they make sure he has clothes for the winter. They'll knit him sweaters and scarves, and give them to him, telling him to run home and get inside, not knowing that might not be an option for him.

But even if they don't know the whole story, the know Hobie the streetkid, who looks tough but has a heart of gold and will help with anything - the kid who'll feed the stray cats before himself.

Most nights, he sleeps at F.E.A.S.T - because we always talk about how great F.E.A.S.T is but never what it's like to actually have to live there as a homeless person for an extended period of time.

The adults know his face, they worry if they don't see him in a bit. They set blankets aside for him, ask him if he's eaten, and for the first time in forever, maybe in his life, he has people who cares - people who want to help.

F.E.A.S.T makes Hobie wanna help people.

And THAT's where he finds his family.

He starts finding other kids too. Older Streetkids start helping him out. They let him squat with them, and show him how to do things like steal electronics, and which shops throw out a bunch of good food at night.

And he starts meeting people, and seeing the teens that'll make him person he is later.

He starts hanging out with them more and more - and they start calling him Hobie.

The take him under their wing. They looked out for him, made sure nobody messed with the youngest of the bunch.

Anywhere they sleep or squat - Hobie does too. And on the nights that it's the worse, that's it too much, or too scary - or the nights where he's just angry at the world,

They're there to remind him there's kindness in the world.

That kindness and joy and having a laugh with the mandem is RADICAL, it's an act of defiance, and a form of power. And that you don't need a big house with the picket fence and 2.5 kids to grow up 'right'.

One of the street kids give him his first patches. They snag him the leather vest he wears today, back when he was tiny and short and he had grow into it.

They taught him everything he knows - from laces code to how to stud a jacket. They start taking him to protests, starts explaining why things are the way they are, how the system is meant to keep people like them down.

They teach him what ACAB means and true anarchy

The first person he ever met wearing blue laces - was a Streetkid. An older kid that Hobie couldn't help but look up to, or even be a little jealous of. A cooler kid with tall leather boots and blue laces.

And when the kid smirked and told him what they meant, Hobie couldn't help but think 'That's SO kickass'.

One night, one of the kids brings a record they stole. They play it on the player - and it's Ramones. Hobie, maybe only 13, hearing rock for the first time.

And he's wide eyed and asking who that is, who's playing the guitar, what's the song name, and the older kids just smirk and chuckle cause they KNOW -

That's when Hobie falls in love with rock.

And Hobie spends his teens with these people, becoming the punk rock anarchist god he is. He learns how to help people like they help him.

Some of those kids are still around, some on their feet now, and some living free, sticking with the life of a Streetkid by choice. Some he sees often - they're the ones he has a laugh with at the pub.

Others, have moved on, or passed away.

And one day Hobie looks around and realizes he's the oldest one now. He looks around and realizes he's the older street kid now. He's the big bro - and he loves it.

Gwen wasn't the only one staying there when she lived with him. She's not the first Society recruit either.

Because of the streetkids that gave him a family, Hobie is who he is - he has a houseboat that always has at least one or two kids staying there, just looking for a place to stay or a meal to eat.

No matter what - Hobie will help.

At to all the StreetKids that came before, Hobie remembers them all - all the help they gave him and all the times they saved him. He hopes that one day, there are people to remember him too, the same way.

Because that's what he wants to be remembered for.

Because he's not a hero - SpiderPunk isn't the hero. Those streetkids were the heroes.

They way they helped him - is the way he helped Gwen.

I need more StreetKid!Hobie SO BAD S OBADDDDLLY

What if Hobie's brown ideology and fashion and beliefs and his love for everyone around him is a reflection of the very teens who raised him and kept him safe and they're the reason why he does any of this to begin with for the streetkids MY GOODDDDDD

HOBIE BROWN - THE PATRON SAINT OF WARWARD TEENS

#BACK ON MY HOBIE SHIT #i was never off it #also no proofread lol #spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #Hobie headcanons #hobie brainrot

[tojigasm]

Raw

Authors note: another Sam Worthington fic for you, sweet angels!! This one can be read as a sequel to the first Sam fic I posted but can also be read as a stand-alone. This one is very much weird!reader coded and deranged <33 i hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: nsfw 18+, minors DNI, smut, fluff, Dilf! Sam worthington, heavy obsession with one another, angst, reader is #weirdmanicpixiedreamgirl type beat, mentions of hurting oneself (not Self harm though), picking at scabs, petnames, Sam being very sweet and a good boyfriend

Synopsis

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

and God, you both want to consume one another. a dying urge to crawl into each other's arms until you mesh into one. he wants to bleed from you and run down your thighs and pick at your scabs until they burn and run rivers of velvet.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

The air smells of wheat and lavender, and the lace tablecloth tickles the tops of your thighs in the gentle air.

"You have this look about you." Sam smiles, dimples soft against his cheeks. "Like you've seen everything and anything. Like you've lived too many lives to count."

His shoe toes at your Mary Jane, and you hum, taking a sip of your drink. Sea glass eyes focus in on you, and you flush under his warm gaze.

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you turn away bashfully, focusing on the breathing trees and soft pillowy clouds that wave by.

The cafe Sam had picked was secluded enough for New York's standards of celebrity life. Tucked away in a quiet park that awarded a moment of gentle peace for the two of you.

Sam's hand cups your cheeks and turns you back to him. Sea glass eyes trace over you again, his lashes drooping in a gentle gaze.

"Where do you go in that head of yours hm?" His voice draws in his accent, lips pulled into a smirk.

shrugging, you pull back to take another sip of your drink. "Off to one of my past lives, I suppose."

he doesn't say anything, gently wrapping his hand over your chin again. He runs the knuckles of his other over your soft cheeks before tracing you features with the tips of his fingers.

You look up at him under your lashes before biting into his palm with a giggle. Sam pulls away in faux hurt, hissing through his teeth before settling back into the seat of his chair.

Sam takes you in – the soft of your hair, the glow of your skin under the sun. Your vanilla slip that rides up your thigh, leaving wake to your lace stockings.

"You're staring." Your voice pulls him back to you.

"I was."

Sam gives you a look that you can't quite make out. Not entirely confident that it's something in the way he responds or a separation in the age between the two of you — either way, he doesn't explain it to you, and you don't ask.

You blame it on the gap of maturity between the two of you.

There's a moment of pause before you hum, taking another sip of your drink before standing up and grabbing your purse.

Sam takes a wad of bills from his wallet and places them on the table. Linking your hands together, he lets you guide him.

—

In the park, Sam settles down near Birchwood and guides you to sit between his legs. Your back to his chest as he pulls your shared novel from your purse and begins to read.

It's soft and quiet in the meadow as spring circles round. Purples and yellows and baby blues are scattered around the soft tufts of grass.

A bird sings, and you let your eyes flutter shut as a plane hums overhead. The sun warms your cheeks and arms, decorating your lace slip in a halo glow.

"What do you say I shall do? The man asks. He speaks sadly, as though he knows the answer already, and it wears Oedipus' soul thin." Sam's voice, thick in his Australian drawl dances around you, chilling over your arms and the small cut on your knee and your hair and the glow of your dress.

There's a soft moment where you can hear Sam fold a page and set the book down before you're met with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"You're my world, sweetheart." Sam mumbles against your cheek, nuzzling himself into you.

You hum, "tell me," Reaching back, you loop your arms around his neck, letting your head fall back to his chest.

"Sometimes I wish I could take you away from all this — all this bullshit celebrity life." He gestures around, "all those fake people with their fake lives and their fake everything. Y'too good fr'em."

You turn in his hold, unraveling yourself from his arms, sitting on your knees between his legs.

Your fingers tickle over the rust of his beard and upwards into his thick hair, letting roan slip through your fingers.

"I like my life." You smile with a hum, kissing him softly.

He nods in your hands, and you pull your sunglasses off to put on his head.

"I do." You tickle his side, "I like that they wish they were me. That they look at me and have half the mind not to kill themselves over someone so pretty."

Sam thinks of you as sickly beautiful. You're so smart and so goddamn beautiful. But you're sick and you're deranged and you're evil in the way you watch and pry and steal.

And he loves you for it. Loves the way your eyes light up when a horror film comes on or the way you get giddy when questioned at award ceremonies by those who are oh so above you - It's all the same to him.

Sam watches as you sway gently, lashes soft to your cheeks and your tongue rolling over the plush of your lips in a smirk.

"You wanna get out of here?" he cups your chin, and you nod.

—

in the cool of your apartment, you sway through the auburn halls. Pulling Sam by the hands as Tchaikovsky echoes throughout the flat in a hazy song.

finding yourself on the foot of your bed, you fall to the duvet - flashes of rainbow and amber dance about your ceiling in a ballet, jumping from wall to wall by the glass prisms Sam had gifted you for your birthday.

he watches you like this. lost in your own mind in a bout of giggles that fall past your lips and absentminded humming.

kneeling to the floor, he begins to unbuckle your Mary Janes, kissing your knees through your lace stockings as he slides them off.

the tips of your white slip are stained with green from the meadow - trickling through the threads like a root.

Sam sits beside you on the bed, relaxing into your bed frame. he watches you, notes you, takes you in, and absorbs you.

you meet his eyes and crawl to your hand and knees, sitting back on your haunches to plant both laced feet to his chest. you trace the tips of your toes over each button of his shirt.

"You're naughty," his hand grazes the sole of your foot.

"And you pretend you don't like it." you sneer, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

the arch your feet press into the thick of his bulge beneath his pants and he hisses.

"Hands and knees." he directs.

the cream duvet is cool under your hands, rubbing and burning at your knees as Sam sits behind you. his eyes wander over you before his hands do - he likes to take his time.

he kisses down the backs of your thighs to the soft of your calves and the gentle arch of your feet. And when he slides into you, he kisses a line down the dip of your back, tracing shapes and poems and words of love he'll never speak. you do the same to the sheets below you.

the way you love is not kind, nor is it all encompassing and gentle. You destroy and you devour, and you exist as nothing and everything in the time it takes for Sam to enter you and for you to finish.

the stretch of his cock makes your head fall between your shoulders and you cry. your hand reaches back to his own that digs into the plush of your ass. His thumb traces over a scab that's been long healed and picked apart again, and it repeats.

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

and God, you both want to consume one another. a dying urge to crawl into each other's arms until you mesh into one. he wants to bleed from you and run down your thighs and pick at your scabs until they burn and run rivers of velvet.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

—

It's creeping up like a weed inside of you. It's rotting, and it's tearing you apart.

And it unsettles you so. As though it seeps into your skin and rots you just as it rots your mind and thoughts and seeps from your skin like a thickly sickness.

it must be a sickness you deicde. for what else could it be?

You'd begun to dig into the skin of your hand earlier during, freshly manicured nails scraping and cutting. It's almost pacifying. something to take your mind off the insufferable crowd and the creeping reminder of the fans and media outlets that will ultimately tear into you until there's nothing more of you left.

your skin is raw and it burns. You think of it sickly as you sigh under your breath, eyes falling shut.

"Y/n."

It's Sam. his thick brows cinched with worry and his hand gently soothing your thigh.

"Are you okay?" you nod. You think you might throw up.

"Yes, I'm okay."

Sam studies you for a moment. Searching in your eyes, almost pleading for you to tell the truth and have him pull you out of the building, have him drive you home and soothe your aches and worries away. Have him save you from the stupid fucking award show you hadn't even wanted to be at to begin with.

his hand squeezes your thigh, and he nods solemnly before turning back to the stage. And a part of you is relieved he doesn't push on the subject more; over time he's learned to let you come to him on your own.

A shrill scream rings among the crowd before an eruption of applause echoes throughout the room.

"I think i'd like to go home now." your lips bitten raw to match your hand and your pretty nails.

Sam turns to you, you feel his hand to your back before you hear him. Running gentle circles over your shoulder, your eyes flutter open and he leans forward to whisper something to you.

—

"M'sorry," you sob into the warmth of him. he coos, soothing you as his cock fills you.

"Theres nothing to apologize for, sweetheart." Sam traces his knuckles over the soft of your cheek.

the ache of the stretch pulls you thin, and you sob into the warmth of Sams room. his cock bruises your walls, his thumb circling kind strokes against your clit.

"Shhh, you're okay." Sam whispers to your cheek as you sob. and it almost as if you cant stop, as if a backlog of tears roll up into your throat and choke you and deem you unworthy until the tides swallow you whole.

"Do you think im wrong?" you can hardly recognize your own voice. its distorted and raw and raspy and comes past your lips in cuts and scratches.

"No, no you're not wrong. you're okay." Sam continues to roll his hips into you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders, looking to his ceiling as your orgasm rides itself through you.

you moan and cry - you bite into Sam's shoulder and pray his skin tears open.

—

you wake to soft chirps and the gentle roar of traffic. Sam still asleep next to you, his freckled arms wrapped over your hips and his roan hair dishevled.

careful not to wake him, you unravel yourself from his hold, pulling on your clothes and grabbing your purse.

You leave his house and head to your car, pulling out onto the road. you aren't sure where you're going.

the sky is a pretty pink and blue that chills over the morning mist and trickles in dew drops.

you feel sickly, you feel skinned, like the rotted and dead root that's been growing and weeding as finally sprung its ugly deformed petals, like its stupidly unaware of how painfully sick it its.

you feel raw.

The soft hum of 'Hearing Damage' circles throughout your car and you begin to feel the sun on your skin as it rises over the mountains of the plains.

Sam's profile appears on the screen of your dashboard. He's calling you. The phone icon pulses on the screen.

You don't pick up.

#sam worthington #dilf sam worthington #avatar #sam worthington x reader #avatar x reader #sam worthington smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully

[risenwrites]

Warnings: Suggestive, mdni, vibrator, established relationship, fluff, Law might be ooc but idk

AU: Modern

A/n: This started out ad a brain worm not long after midnight lol but it turned into this. I feel like the ending is a bit weak but I've never been good at writing endings 😔

Law stared at the tiny black remote in his hand that you had given him. Although he wasn't entirely sure what this remote was for. He glanced up from the small pink device, looking at you for any sign you'd tell him what this was supposed to be. When all you did was flush a brighter pink, he sighed softly and looked back at the remote. Slowly, his thumb brushed over the top button on the remote. He didn't press it, but you still shivered in what he could only assume was anticipation.

Thank god you were an open book sometimes. At least now he had an idea of what was happening.

"... What is this?" he asked, wanting to confirm his guess.

Hearing you stutter out nonsense had him look at you again. You were nervously fiddling with your fingers and rubbing your thighs together, confirming his suspicions without needing to say anything. A slight frown tugged down his neutral expression, but you seemed too caught up in being flustered to notice.

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to do anything like this yet," he commented, snapping you out of your flustered state.

You're eyes widen a little; then you look away with what he could only describe as embarrassment and a little shame on your face. "Yeah, I know..." you softly begin to answer, "but I felt terrible for putting that boundary about not doing anything related to sex."

Law felt his heart melt, wondering if he had unintentionally acted harshly toward you since you set that boundary about a month ago. "You really shouldn't," he said softly. "I overreacted when you told me you didn't feel ready. It's okay to set boundaries. Especially if it involves something you don't feel ready for," Law explained, hoping he sounded comforting instead of reprimanding.

"I know it's just..." you started, nervousness lacing your voice, "I set that boundary more to keep myself from breaking my beliefs and personal code rather than not feeling ready, if that makes any sense. Because even though I don't want to have sex or anything outside of marriage, I want you. I want you so bad it sometimes hurts. Late at night, I fantasize about the things I want to do with you, the things I want you to do to me, and sometimes I-I touch myself while thinking about you and those things," you confess and ramble shyly.

Law stared at you, genuinely shocked to hear you confess something so lewd. A gentle pink dusted across his face as he looked away while covering his mouth. When he glanced back at you, he saw how your eyes widened, clearly worried you had said something wrong.

Damn it, why did you have to be so cute?

"So you bought a vibrator as a sort of compromise?" Law asked, lightly pressing the top button, watching how you tensed up.

A slight smug smirk appeared on Law's face as he pressed the top button several times. He watched your face shift to one of surprise and pleasure. You whimpered and pressed your legs together in an attempt to deal with the vibrations deep in your core.

You quickly nodded, starting to fidget with your fingers again with your eyes locked on the remote in his hand. "Y-yeah... if that's okay," you answered.

Law took a step closer and placed a hand on your face only to gently put his thumb in your mouth to press down your tongue, whispering, "Trust me, it's more then just okay."

©this work belongs to risenwrites, do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

#risen.writes #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law smut #law one piece #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n

[sinon36]

Ghost x undercover!reader (HC) Part I

Warnings: torture, blood, pain, unconscious Ghost and basically kinda useless, really capable YOU persona ;), rushed writing, possible mistakes, reader is pretty neutral so far

P.S. Don’t judge the unexplained inconsistency of how a guy like Ghost gets captured, but spy you get to waltz around unbothered, yeah, you’re that good, so good you got plot armour. Besos!   

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

- the first time you meet it's messy. He's supposed to extract an agent from behind enemy lines but instead he gets captured

-  you pose as a computer science PhD who is in charge of the enemy base cyber security, when in reality you're there to install a backdoor with remote access.

- you know someone should come to help make your exit, but when no infiltration is reported panic starts to rise in your chest

- you start investigating, searching through the facility trying to find out if something happened.

- you gain access to a part of the facility you don't have clearance for.

- you stumble upon a gruesome scene in one of the holding cell in the underground levels

- you find a man tied to the ceiling, bare feet barely touching the floor, muscles stretching under the tension ready to snap

- a black hood is thrown over his head and he's shirtless, remnants of once black cargo pants hang on his hips.

- he was tortured, for days by looks of it

- you know enough about that to know that he hasn't cracked yet, otherwise he'd be dead not hanging there in the damp cold cell.

- you take your chances and take the hood off

- he groggily turns his head to look down at you, he’s a big that much you can say

- blonde whisps of hair matted to his scalp stained a dark red, pale skin the same blood oozing from small cuts on his cheeks dripping down on his pectorals. From behind black and blue and inflammation two brown eyes scan your face

- 'the wolf walks alone' you quietly utter the code phrase for identity verification

- he watches you like an owl watches a mouse with cautious patience but he gives no indication that he'll answer

- you can't stay there too long; someone might catch you here or someone could report that you never came back from the bathroom break

- you reach for the hood to place it back on the prisoner’s head, knowing that you can't do anything for him and in this state he can't even provide a distraction for you to slip out unnoticed

-as you get closer tiptoeing to reach above his head he grunts, you stop in your tracks making eye contact

- his dried and busted lips start to quiver you wait for a moment giving him a chance to prove you wrong

- 'But the pack's got its back...' he draws out in a deep guttural voice laced with a thick Manchester accent

- phrase matching your own, you get to work hastily finding a way to get him down

- as you unlock the chains wounded around his wrists you try to support his weight which proves impossible

- you barely manage to break his fall turning yourself in a cushion under his massive form

- you huff and try to pull him up ' I can't carry you' you mutter to him. 'You gotta get up, soldier' you try and nudge him, you slip and talk in the familiar British accent

- he stalls, taking in deep breaths trying to surpass the pain and ache, multiple bones broken, muscles tumefied, and skin bearing to many cuts and bruises. Blood covers him like a deathly veil

- he tries and with your help he manages to stand but he can barely walk on his own, he can barely see, he can barely think, having sustained multiple concussions

- with great difficulty you get moving, praying to yourself that the guard might be gone, taking a piss or having a smoke

- your prayers are answered, no one is on the otherwise busy hallways this late at night, many having called it a night going back to their rooms

- as you pass the med bay your quick thinking finds a credible disguise: you steal a lab coat and a doctor's key card, some glasses that make your vision blurry once you put them on, and get the wounded soldier in a wheel chair

-he huffs but you can clearly see the relief overtaking him as he no longer has to stand

-you throw a medical gown over him concealing the dried blood on his bare torso

-once you clean his face a little and bandage his whole head to cover his identity, you grab a few bottles of morphine and a med kit for later and push the wheelchair out the door

- you aim for the underground parking lot, where civilians’ workers such as your cover, keep their personal cars

-you hope that the sentinels stationed at the gates won't look too closely at your backseat as you carefully push the wounded man in the car

- everything goes smooth from there, the guards wishing you a good night, no questions ask as to your departure from the base

- once you get farther away you start speeding eyeing for any police cars that might stop you or any military vehicle that might chase you

- to your dumb surprise no one follows you the mountain road dark and deserted

- you head to your safehouse where you have stashed money, fake id's, a new disguise and another car.

- once you change everything and make sure that the soldier still breathes in the back of the SUV, after you've administered some first help giving him the relief of morphine, you burn everything down

- the wooden house the other car, everything, nothing can be left behind to be tracked to you or to the MI6, you have taken precautions that borderline OCD, but you know that you have to be through, no detail to small

- once you're back on the road you contact your handler, a tired voice but you can hear the sound of relief as he hears your voice

- he's pleased that everything went smooth, no alarm was triggered, no shot was fired, no chase happened and you even managed to save your would-be saviour, sent specifically to get you out of that den of wolves

- you announce your E.T.A. to the agreed pickup location and you are annoyed to hear you'll have to wait a bit, your nerves are starting to fray, and body to tire

- you don't have the manpower nor the firepower to make a stand in the woods until the heli gets there

-but you do as you're told, as always

- you grab the pistol you keep under the passenger seat and place it in your lap; the heaviness in your lap gives very little reassurance

- but not long passes and you can hear the lovely sound of an Apache helicopter

- in a whirlwind of dust and voices shouting out instructions both you and the soldier are placed in the metal beast's bowls

-you inform the medics of the dosage of morphine you gave to the soldier as they start hooking him to machines that monitor his vital signs

-you don't even know his name and he definitely doesn't know yours as per protocol, and you doubt you'll ever see him again

-you won't even be there when he'll wake up, he'll probably never know of your act of kindness; you could have left him behind but instead you risked your safety for his

- any other agent would've done it, but not you, you couldn't leave one of your own behind

- you still hold your breath, eager to cross the border and get back to HQ where meetings and debriefs will be held, and rapports will be written then redacted

-you expect the compliments at a job well done and the proud pats on the back from your superiors, even though for you that's just a show

- you know you will get a free month at best to recover and then you'll be shipped somewhere else to do it all over again

- it's a lonely life, and full of danger but it makes you sleep better at night knowing you helped soil some plans that could be used to hurt innocents

- once the pilot announces that you crossed the borders you slightly relax on the padded bench, closing your eyes in relief but not allowing yourself to fall asleep yet

- when you feel the heli dipping down towards the tarmac you open your eyes eager to get off the noisy thing and looking forward for some commodities you know wait ready inside the base

- you watch as the soldier gets rolled toward the med bay and you get pulled by a Sargent that informs you, he's there to take you to the commander of the base

- you'd hopped to at least get a few hours of sleep before the rounds of interrogations start, but the higher-ups are hungry for the confirmation of a successful mission

- you trudge behind the Sargent mentally preparing for the onslaught of questions and can't help but wonder what of the wounded soldier

-you subconsciously hope he'll pull through

Next part here.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #undercover #simon riley #ghost x oc #ghost x y/n #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley headcanons

[storiesofmyhead]

Chishiya x Reader

Summary: Chishiya gets jealous when Arisu tries to bring Y/n with him to open the safe

Warnings! Kissing, Jealous!Chishiya, use of Y/n

Word count: 1367

“Chishi, I’m tired. Can’t we just go to bed.” Y/n whines.

Shaking his head, he glances over to her. “Not right now. Remember the plan.” He says in a ‘you didn't forget did you’ voice. 

She groans, throwing her head back in annoyance. “But-”

“An hour tops. And then I’m all yours. Sound good?” He says knowing she couldn’t refuse.

“Fineeee.” She drags out following Chishiya out of the room.

Jogging to catch up with his fast strides she grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together.

~~

“So I’ll ask again. Who thinks Aguni should be leader?” Niragi says in a cocky tone, his gun resting on his shoulder. 

Taking a small step back, Y/n hides behind Chishiya. The nervous gut feeling she gets from Niragi unmatched. 

An takes a small breath, before raising her hand. 

“This is not a democracy.” Mira huffs. Content with An’s answer, Niragi moves over to Mira, his gun close to her head.

“But I think it is, isnt it. You can vote however you want right?” He says though it wasn’t an invitation to vote how everyone really wanted to. So Mira slowly brings her hand up at Niragi’s threat.

“And how about the former number two over there. What do you think?” Remaining silent he raises his hand. 

No matter what everyone really thought, they all knew the power Niragi had over them right now.

“And what about you two? Hm?” Niragi now moves closer to Chishiya, his gun raised, flashing his eyebrows at Y/n.

Chishiya bordley raises his eyes to Niragi, not saying a word as Y/n’s grip on his hand becomes tighter.

“Chishiya~ You’re not lookin’ down on us, are ya?” He says his gun now parallel to his side as he takes a few steps towards the two.

“Yall morons in the corps.” Niragi now angrily steps toe-to-toe with Chishiya, causing Y/n to gasp slightly, as he wraps his arm around her waist pushing her behind him.

Niragi chuckles at the protective movement of Chishiya, switching his gaze to Y/n quickly before landing back on Chishiya. 

“Those eyes of yours piss me off sometimes, you know that?” His gun pointed straight at Chishiya’s head, though he remained calm only slightly shifted back. “You really think you’re better than us, don't ya?”

Chishiya puts his two arms up in surrender, before bringing the left one back down around to Y/n’s waist, his right hand still in the air.

“I vote for Aguni to be the leader.” He says, his voice slightly joking, though Niragi doesn’t seem to care. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you want to hear, don’t you?” 

Scoffing, Niragi takes a big step back. “Well let this be a reminder of how you should act in the future.”

Nervously Y/n’s empty hand plays with the bottom of Chishiya’s jacket, as Niragi’s eyes move to her. Raising one eyebrow, she raises her hand as well.

Head turning towards a scared or shocked Arisu. “Why are you lookin’ so freaked out? I thought I told you to give me an answer.” His gun is now pointing straight into Arisu’s chest.

Though as Niragi taunted the poor kid, Y/n’s ears were filled with sweet nothing’s from Chishiya. He could feel her nervous tendencies behind him, so bringing her in front of him, he knew that whispering to her would cause her to focus on him and his words, nothing else. 

~~

Sitting in Kuina’s room, Chishiya sat in an armchair at the end of the coffee table, with Y/n by his side as she was growing tired. Her clinginess intensing with every second she stayed awake. 

“First Arisu will infiltrate the royal suite. Then he’ll search for the safe, and steal all the playing cards inside.”

A worried look on Arisu’s face. “And how will I get the code?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He replies looking down at the coffee table. “Ill let you know when you’re near the safe.” He slides a walkie-talkie to Arisu.

“I sure hope you’re right.” He says with an unsure look on his face. “Im taking Y/n with me.” he states causing everyone to look up shocked, Chishiya with a glare. “For precautions, you know just in case the walkie-talkie doesn’t work.” He shrugs.

“No.” Chishiya glares, Y/n stands nervously shuffling her feet behind him. 

“Why not? You’re sure of this plan right?” His eyebrow quirks. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us?”

“Fine.” He growls, his eyes darkening. “But you get caught and drag her into it. I’ll make sure sleeping with those bodies in the dumpster.”

~~

Sneaking into the office, Y/n can hear Chishiya’s voice on the walkie-talkie. Her eyes darted around, nervously as she knows the actual plan, well she knew the actual plan. Now that Arisu brought her along, she didn’t know what was gonna happen and that made her nervous.

Punching in the code, the safe beeps signaling that the code was wrong. Arisu now scared, his eyes wide, pulled at the safe hoping it would open.

“It’s not opening.” He pulled some more. “Chishiya.” His eyes looked over his shoulder at Y/n to see her taking steps back towards the door, her focus on him.

“Chishiya! You there?” He spoke again.

Y/n watched as Niragi, Aguni and their goonies walked into the room, their eyes falling on Y/n before she pointed to Arisu.

“Ya, I really gotta hand it to you. You got balls.” Niragi taunts.

Y/n’s eyes quickly found Chishiya, as she ran over to him. His clm exterior unbroken though she knew he was relieved by the quick kiss he placed on her temple as she hid her face in his neck.

“You’re safe. I’m right here. Don’t worry.” His whisper’s filled her ears, as she focused on his voice.

Slightly pushing her away, his arm falling to her waist. “Go back to our room. Ill be there in a few minutes.”

Nodding, she places a kiss on his cheek, before running off to their room.

~~

Snuggled in under the covers, she watched the door, waiting for Chishiya to walk in. Finally after what felt like forever, the door opened. 

Smiling, she watches her close the door and shrug off his white jacket, placing it on a chair, before pulling off his shirts as well just towing that on the ground in the pile with their other dirty clothes.

Her eyes fell on his bare body, though no muscles showed he was still slightly toned. Opening her arms, Chishiya smiled tiredly, lifting the cover and sliding in. Wrapping his arms around her hips and resting his head on her chest.

“ ‘m so tired.” He mumbled.

Giggling, she nodded. “Me too. We can go to bed now though baby. Just me and you.” Lifting his chin up she places a kiss on his lips.

Moving to pull away, his hand stops her as it slides to the back of her neck. Placing his lips on her’s roughly, she gasped slightly not expecting it.

Smiling into the kiss, she pulled away not out of air. “What was that all about.”

Chuckle slightly placed his head back on her chest. “Stupid kid, changing my plan. Made me nervous. I told them that he forced you along, but I didn’t know if they’d believe me. Was scared that Niragi would do something to you.” His voice muffled at the end as he buried his head in her chest.

Eyes wide, Y/n sat silent at his confession. Chishiya was never good with words and the fact that he said all of what he did was surprising.

Sighing happily she places a kiss on his head. “I love you.”

“ ‘m love you too.” His voice muffled once again, though she knew what he said, a goofy smile on her face as it was the first time he had ever replied.

“ ‘m so proud of you.” She mumbled into his hair, placing one more kiss before letting the exhaustion take over.

#chishiya shuntaro #aib chishiya #chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #nijiro murakami #alice in borderland #aib #chishiya x you #shuntaro chishiya

[vialovesyou]

𝗳𝗲𝘄 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗪 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗘𝗬

driving to drew's apartment this late was never ideal, especially since y/n was tired after a long shift having have had to stay longer to help a student land her jumps, which was incredibly hard since the student had two left feet. y/n’s head could have used some advil, and she would have been perfectly happy to stay home and sleep for twelve hours.

but when rudy called her, groaning and saying your boyfriend is wasted and won't shut up about you and you need to come pull him him to bed, she went. it was as simple as that, partially because drew was stubborn when sober and only got worse as the night went on (code for he won't listen to anyone but her )and partly because y/n got a sweet kick out of his clinginess and extra loving.

when y/n finally knocked on the apartment door, the sound of austin sighing finally as he swung open the door doesn't surprise nor offend her. madelyn and madison scurried over, welcoming her with hugs and jokes about how sorry they were that they had to call her while chase and rudy tend to the drunken blonde.

" it's alright " y/n reassured. " i don't mind "

the tv was on playing a re-run off star wars, as beer cans and empty solo cups littered the table. pink floyds's dark side of the moon played from a speaker nearby as monica approached. drew was reclined back on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes while his other tapped along to the song. monica crouched down next to him and could hear him humming the tune.

jd stood behind y/n, feeling a little helpless " he's been talking about you nonstop since he got, like, three shots deep "

" and as much as we love you guys together " madelyn added, leaning into chase's side. " he doesn't listen very well once he gets started "

y/n shot them a smile over her shoulder before speaking. " it's okay, i get it. you guys can go if you want, this might take a while " y/n hummed, causing everyone to bid there farewells before they left since they were exhausted. madelyn, madison, chase and jd all left to their respected apartments while austin and rudy went into their rooms as monica turned her attention back to the troublesome boy. " drew? time for bed "

" i told you to fuck off, madelyn. i just want to see my girl " he grumbles without moving an inch causing y/n’s heart to flutter at the nickname. " your girl? " she questioned, a teasing smile on her face.

" yeah, you know the beautiful one?"

" might ring a bell " she muttured, shifting so her legs were crossed in a basket beside him. " yeah, well, she's the most.... the most beautiful person in the history of... of forever. so get outta here and go flirt with chase or somethin' " he lazily waved her odd, mumbling something she didn't quite hear.

a smile fought it's way onto y/n’s face as she gently placed her hand on the smooth pane of his shoulder. " oh, but i wanted to flirt with you instead. how's that sound, hm? "

drew quickly pushed her touch away, seemingly still not recognising his own girlfriend. " it sounds like my girl is gonna come for you any second now, so watch it blondie. she might be small but fuck me she can be scary " drew slurred his words as he spoke, pulling a laugh from y/n’s lips. she gently took his wrist in her hand to remove his arm from his eyes and pressed a kiss where her fingertips touched him. his eyes stayed closed, as he jutted his chin in the opposite direction in protest.

" drew, baby, i'm not killing anyone any time soon " she spoke, leaning over his chest while running a hand through his hair. he opened one eye, suspicious of her claims but quickly realised it was her , and turned to look at y/n like he'll never get the chance to do it again, his expression swallowed by a smile. " when did you get here, darlin' " he asked, smooching kisses against the girls face causing her to scrunch her nose up.

" oh, just now " she answered, laughter lacing her words. " rudy called me over " she pressed a kiss to his forehead before sitting back up, her hand quickly engulfed by his.

" you should've come sooner " his other hand made it's way to her thigh, smoothing over her skin. " i was waiting for you by myself, and - " he abruptly sat up- " there's something i have to tell you " he whispered, casting a glance to his bedroom door. " it's top secret "

with him this close, y/n could smell the vodka on his breath. " yeah? what is it? " she asked, looping her arms around his neck as he pulled her onto his lap causing her to straddle him. her fingernails scratched at the nape of his neck, to which he instinctively responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and rubbing the palms of his hand along her back.

" this is top secret, classified information, sweetheart. you can't just get it for free. everything comes with a price !" he grinned slyly, tugging her closer. knowing drew, she already knew where this was headed but played along anyway " name it, then. i'm sure we can strike a deal somehow " y/n fed into him.

he mulled over his words before speaking " hear me out "

" i'm listening " y/n reassured, shifting her hips so she could sit more comfortably. " you " he pointed at her chest. " give me three -no, five kisses for the info up front" when y/n raised her eyebrows in suspicion, he continued. " and every follow up question is worth another kiss "

#outerbanks #drew starkey fluff #rafe cameron angst #drew starkey angst #obx #rafe cameron #drewstarkey #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #jjmaybankangst

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬' 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The morning air was crisp as you marched through the halls of Hogwarts, making your way towards the Transfiguration Courtyard. It was March 27th, 1978: James Potter's 18th birthday. You entered the empty courtyard, feeling thankful that you had pulled a jumper on over your pyjamas as the cold air nipped at your nose. You set your gift box down on a bench, taking a seat next to it and letting out a yawn. It was much too early for any student to be out and about, let alone out of bed, so the courtyard was peaceful and quiet.

That was, until a familiar, cheery voice broke the silence.

"Y/n!" James called out, jogging over to you. His glasses had fogged up from the cold air, causing him to stop a few feet away from you. He took his glasses off, wiping them down with his scarf before putting them back on. "Bloody freezing, yeah?" He approached you, pulling the Gryffindor scarf off of his neck and wrapping it around yours instead.

The sincere action made heat rise in your cheeks. You wondered how someone could be so energized at such an early hour. Not only was he wide awake, but he looked damn good. You could tell that he definitely didn't just roll out of bed; surprise, surprise, he had taken the time to style his hair. 

"Good morning, Potter." You grinned, standing up to conceal the gift box behind you. "Care to explain why you had me get out of bed so early?"

James paused for a moment before a frown spread across his face. "Have you forgotten something?"

You tried your best to act clueless, ultimately failing at the sight of the heartbreak written all over his face. "Okay, okay. Happy birthday, James."

He smiled widely, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin on your head. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon filled your nose, making you sigh happily. His signature scent had grown to be familiar and comforting. 

You were snapped back out of your thoughts by his voice scolding you. "You're so mean, you know that? Pretending to forget about my birthday. Unbelievable. I want that scarf back now." James pouted.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're also unbelievable, instructing me to wake up so early to meet you here just so you can get a gift." You pulled back slightly to look up at him.

James looked down at you against his chest and couldn't help but feel a flutter in his heart. "What if I just wanted to start my special day with my girlfriend? Is that so hard to believe, Y/n?"

"Your special day?" You scoffed. "It's just a birthday, James. Not your wedding."

"Our  wedding. And no, it isn't, but it's my 18th birthday! Let me live. Now, about that gift you mentioned..." James smirked, releasing you from his embrace.

You tried to shake off the giddiness you felt from his wedding comment, clearing your throat. "I was getting to that, but I suppose you can open it now." You approached the bench, taking a seat. James sat next to you, picking up the gift box and placing it in his lap.

"Go ahead, I know you'll explode if you have to wait another second." You watched James tear open the gift wrap with the expression of a child on Christmas morning. He then opened up the box, his face lighting up at the contents.

"You're kidding." He pulled out the pair of red Converse high tops, inspecting them carefully. "Y/n, these are perfect."

"You like them?" You sighed in relief.

"Like them? I love them." He kicked off his shoes, putting on his new pair and lacing them up. "How do I look?" He stood up, looking down at his feet.

"You look amazing, James."

"You aren't even looking at my shoes." He grinned cockily.

"I know." You smiled at him, standing up. "Now, where's my thank you?"

James pulled you into another embrace, kissing your head. "Thank you, love. I never want to take them off."

"Just don't get dress-coded." You chuckled, burying your face into his chest. The warmth of his body was a stark contrast against the brisk weather, heating up your body in no time.

"Now, can we find some place to get some more sleep before breakfast?" You asked tiredly.

James chuckled, rubbing your back. "Yeah, let's go. My birthday excitement has been satisfied for now, and I'm sleepy."

The two of you headed back inside the castle, James keeping his arm around your shoulders the whole way.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The two of you roamed the empty halls in search for a cozy spot to rest. James held you close, supporting the weight of your tired body.

The sound of stones shifting broke the silence, causing both of you to stop in your tracks and look to your left, where the sound was coming from. Both of your jaws dropped as you watched the wall form into a secret doorway.

"...Are we seriously sleepy enough to hallucinate?" James inquired, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I don't think so." You said, approaching the door and reaching out for the handle.

"Wait!" James exclaimed, to which you raised a brow. "What if this is a trap or something?" He questioned, stepping in front of you. "I'll open it."

Too tired to argue, you nodded and watched as he pushed the door open.

Inside was a small room, holding the appearance of a cozy bedroom with one large bed in the middle. 

"What is this place?" James stepped inside, examining the details of the room.

"This must be the Room of Requirement." You realized.

"No way. The Room of Requirement was kind enough to lend us a bed? How sweet." James chuckled, carefully taking his new shoes off before flopping himself onto the bed. He shifted onto his back, getting under the covers and patting the spot next to him.

You happily obliged, joining him in the bed and pulling the blanket up to your chin. "This must be the most comfortable bed I have ever laid in."

"Me too." James sighed, pulling you in by the waist. "Let's get as much rest as we can before breakfast, hm?" He burrowed his face in your neck, closing his eyes.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

That evening, you waited in the library for your date with James. That is, until Sirius barged in through the doors, receiving a loud shush from the librarian. "Sorry." He mumbled, scanning his eyes over the room before spotting you.

"Y/n!" He whisper-yelled, lightly jogging over to you.

"Sirius? What are you doing here? Trying to crash my date?" You questioned, shutting the book you were reading to pass the time. James was already 15 minutes late.

"Uh, about that date..." Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "James can't make it."

"What?" You were the one receiving a shush this time, causing you to lower your voice. "Why not?"

"Well, you see..." Sirius stifled a chuckle. "He told me to let you know that he's in detention for being out of dress-code during class. He said something about improper footwear."

#james potter #the marauders #marauders #maraudersera #prongs #james x reader #james potter x reader #james potter fic #marauders x reader #prongs x reader #harry potter #harry potter oneshots #james potter oneshots #hp #hp fanfic #hogwarts #seventh year #fluff #james potter fluff #hp fluff

[zoobus]

@dtwoh2

This ended up being super long so I decided not to harass OP's replies

(this is about my opinion that Elliot the billionaire from Breaking Bad S1E5 "Grey Matter" was not a generous, kindly rich friend offering Walt a way out with no strings attached)

First, let me say this: I know most people don't notice or care about fashion but BrBa actually did put notable effort in their costume design and it's because characters like Skyler are consistently well-dressed that made this point so glaring

When she's hosting, when she goes to the office, hell even her house robes are sophisticated, put together fits - I'm not sure how she affords those sumptuous silk kimonos she's always wearing but it hammers home Skye as an appearance-minded person, a woman who knows how to dress. Even with the shit camera quality, you can tell her hot pink baby shower dress was made for her.

And yet.

Walt and Skye go to that party in complementing loud, harsh, ugly blues for what they learn is a beige party - the literal exact opposite of blue.

Now, it'd be one thing if they'd known and worn beige outfits that were shabby in comparison and Walt got in his feelings about it. Or if they'd truly "missed the memo" as Walt snarks and come in normal-wear that was out of dress code - yep could see Walt assuming it was intentional and throwing a fit.

But this poor couple attending a billionaire's party for some reason thought they should wear gaudy blue, with Skye's dress in particular highlighting exactly how cheap it is. It's almost as if they were under the impression they had to wear a color a domesticated adult would be unlikely to already own and rarely looks good on a budget, doubly so if you're 8 months pregnant. Skye would NEVER wear that shiny ass prom dress with the ruched center seam, scratchy 100% polyester raschel lace shawl, and sequined evening bag in public unless she thought it was her only choice. She never wears anything like this again, not even in the same season. The only rational explanation is someone lied to them. The more I explain this, the more I realize why most people missed it.

Now for the less special interest type reasons:

Walt asks (then later confirms) the invite said "no gifts." You might say oh, maybe Elliot was trying to spare Walt's pride but if so, why make a point of sharing it like he did? Why even invite your broke prideful friend to this kind of party, like you can't think of any other way to meet, chat, and ask if he'll work for you?

Additionally, how odd that Walt's was the only invite that didn't say this was a beige party.

Really can't downplay how hard it is to swallow they forgot to tell the Whites not to show up in clown uniforms.

Elliot's loudly showing off his gifts, with the last being an autographed Eric Clapton Stratocaster® which on the low end today is a $2000 electric guitar, but can go to the tens of thousands. Then he spots his friend's meager, teensy little thing, smaller than his hand and LITERALLY POINTS WALT OUT so everyone knows for damn sure who did this. Elliot unwraps it and does this full body sigh. Hands dropped. Your dad getting another tie for father's day type reaction. Young Good Ramen. No this is great man. You can get 10 for 1.99.

Sorry, no it WAS malicious. Listen to his voice. Feel how long he held that unpleasant silence before forcing a chuckle. Holding eye contact throughout while the crowd darts their eyes and smirks. This isn't Harry Potter - you can't emphasize how shitty something is then magically negate it like "and that's why I love it hahaha!" Elliot made it clear where he thinks Walt stands. Beneath him.

The whole party is like this, a humiliating horror show of socializing out of your social sphere. We don't even know what their relationship was like before. The implication is that Walt separated from this guy before for a reason and the reason was probably in line with what we saw today.

Elliot isn't stupid. He knows Walt. He knows Walt's character. He knows their financial disparities. He knows Walt is sick. Presumably he's well aware of Walt's pride. An intelligent and well-meaning friend doesn't accidentally combo-hit the exact weak points that caused you to drift apart in less than an hour before asking hey how would you like to literally owe me your life? How would you like the kind of debt that can't be repaid? :) You're a smart man.

If Elliot really cared about saving Walt, he wouldn't have gone about it the way he did. If, however, he wanted to antagonize and flex on Walt, make him as uncomfortable as possible, keep in his wife's good graces by offering him a job, and end the night with two possible outcomes - either he accepts and gets richer or he rejects and elliot can say "Welp honey, your former lover and ex-fiance Walter White said no for some weird reason. oh well, I tried! :)"

Idk, I guess it could be a projection but the way Elliot talked to Walt reminded me of old friends whom, in retrospect, didn't even try to hide their disdain for me. Like wow how did I miss that.

I think Gretchen had honest intentions. Her husband didn't. I don't know what his deal was exactly but I'd exhaust all other resources before accepting this dude who publicly embarrassed me as my savior, livelihood, and future employer.

#breaking bad #brba #sorry but I genuinely do not understand the popular(?) read of Elliot as a benevolent and well-meaning friend #And Walt as a selfish prideful ass projecting malicious intent upon him #I mean Walt is that but he wasn't projecting this time #niche effortposts